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The count in order to make the go possible seems to be an expert at the art of self-defence, himself; and here we have the Corbett-Sullivan fight done over into literature. The book ends with the broker and the princess doing a John Cecil Clay cover under the linden-trees on the Gorgonzola Walk. That winds up the love-story plenty good enough. But I notice that the book dodges the final issue.
Very soon after this the Queen had a little daughter, who was the most beautiful creature ever seen; all the Fairies of the North were invited to her christening, and warned against the malicious Gorgonzola.
There was always plenty of cheese of various kinds in the house: whole milk cheese carefully aged until its flavour was like that of English Stilton or Italian Gorgonzola; skim milk cheese stuffed with cloves and cardamom seeds; and dark brown goat milk cheese of a cloying sweetness that Keith detested. Cheese was more than a taste with Keith's father.
There was their fat waiter in front with a large covered cheese-dish. Behind him was another with two smaller ones, and a third with some yellow powder upon a plate was bringing up the rear. 'This is Gorgonzola, main, said the waiter, with a severe manner. 'And there's Camembert and Gruyere behind, and powdered Parmesan as well. I'm sorry that the Stilton don't give satisfaction.
We say, decidedly, "Yes," although good authorities declare that it may be put on a morsel of bread with a knife, and thus conveyed to the mouth. Of course we refer to the soft cheeses like Gorgonzola, Brie, cream-cheese, Neufchatel, Limburger, and the like which are hardly more manageable than butter.
He halted on the left bank of the Adda, encamping his army in the villages of Imago, Gorgonzola, and Cassano, and remained master of the battlefield, upon which we had left two thousand five hundred dead, one hundred pieces of cannon, and twenty howitzers. That night Souvarow invited General Becker to supper with him, and asked him by whom he had been taken prisoner.
I once overheard Fred saying that I was a Gorgonzola cheese-hound, and I have generally found Fred reliable in his statements. When I found that I was under discussion, I opened my eyes. Master was standing there, looking down at me, and by his side the man who had just said I was ugly enough. The man was a thin man, about the age of a barman and smaller than a policeman.
I would as soon think of endowing restaurants to enable young men to appreciate caviar, or old Gorgonzola, or game of a peculiarly ``high'' character, as of establishing courses dealing with Villon, Baudelaire, Swinburne, and the like; and when I hear of second-rate critics summoned across the ocean to present to universities which have heard Emerson, Longfellow, Henry Reed, Lowell, Whipple, and Curtis the coagulated nastiness of Verlaine, Mallarm<e'>, and their compeers, I expect next to hear of courses introducing young men to the beauties of absinthe, Turkish cigarettes, and stimulants unspeakable.
There is your toasted or Welsh cheese, and your cheese of Pont-l'eveque, and your white cheese of Brie, which is a chalky sort of cheese. And there is your cheese of Neufchatel, and there is your Gorgonzola cheese, which is mottled all over like some marbles, or like that Mediterranean soap which is made of wood-ash and of olive oil.
Then a dozen sugared hams, One small cabbage head, Ninety dozen pinky clams, Sixty loaves of bread. "'Seven quarts of French canned pease, And a pound or two Of your Gorgonzola cheese For my lunch will do." Then the waiter standing by In the usual way Asked him: 'Won't you also try Our hot mince today?"
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