dBooks desire

Potin, you know, is the
finest dealer in groceries, fruit, game, and so on in the
world. I have a standing order with him for the best of--
everything that comes in. I'd hate to tell you what my
bill with Potin is every month--he only sends it to me
once a year. Really, I think I ought to be ashamed of
myself, but I reason that, if a man can afford it, he's
a fool to put anything but the best into his stomach.''
``You're right there!'' mumbled Presbury. His
mouth was full of turkey. ``You HAVE got a chef,
General!''
``He ought to cook well. I pay him more than most
bank-presidents get. What do you think of those joint
wagons, Mrs. Presbury?''
``They're very--interesting,'' replied she, a little
nervous because she suspected they were some sort of
vulgar joke.
``I knew you'd like them,'' said the general. ``My
own idea entirely. I saw them in several restaurants
abroad--only of course those they had were just ordinary
affairs, not fit to be introduced into a gentleman's
dining-room.


Pages:
74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98