for a
month." "Quelle potage voulez vous, monsieur?" inquired the _garcon_ at
last, tired of waiting while he studied the _carte_ and looked the words
out in the dictionary. "_Avez-vous_ any potted lobster?" "Non," said the
_garcon_, "potage au vermicelle, au riz, a la Julienne, consomme, et
potage aux choux." "Old shoe! who the devil do you think eats old shoes
here? Have you any mock turtle or gravy soup?" "Non, monsieur," said the
_garcon_ with a shrug of the shoulders. "Then avez-vous any roast
beef?" "Non, monsieur; nous avons boeuf au naturel--boeuf a la sauce
piquante--boeuf aux cornichons--boeuf a la mode--boeuf aux choux--boeuf
a la sauce tomate--bifteck aux pommes de terre." "Hold hard," said
Jorrocks; "I've often heard that you can dress an egg a thousand ways,
and I want to hear no more about it; bring me a beef-steak and pommes
de terre for three." "Stop!" cried Mr. Stubbs, with dismay--"I see you
don't understand ordering a dinner in France --let me teach you. Where's
the _carte?_" "Here," said Mr. Jorrocks, "is 'the bill of lading,'"
handing over the book.--"Garcon, apportez une douzaine des huitres, un
citron, et du beurre frais," said the Yorkshireman, and while they were
discussing the propriety of eating them before or after the soup, a
beautiful dish of little green oysters made their appearance, which were
encored before the first supply was finished. "Now, Colonel," said the
Yorkshireman, "take a bumper of Chablis," lifting a pint bottle out of
the cooler. "It has had one plunge in the ice-pail and no more--see what
a delicate rind it leaves on the glass!" eyeing it as he spoke. "Ay, but
I'd rayther it should leave something in the mouth than on the side
of the glass," replied Mr. Jorrocks; "I loves a good strong generous
wine--military port, in fact--but here comes fish and soup--wot are
they?" "Filet de sole au gratin, et potage au macaroni avec fromage de
Parmesan. I'll take fish first, because the soup will keep hot longest."
"So will I," said Mr. Jorrocks, "for I think you understand the
thing--but they seem to give werry small penn'orths--it really
looks like trifling with one's appetite--I likes the old joint--the
cut-and-come-again system, such as we used to have at Sugden's in
Cornhill--joint, wegitables, and cheese all for two shillings." "Don't
talk of your joints here," rejoined the Yorkshireman--"I told you
before, you don't understand the art of eating--the dexterity of the
thing cons