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Updated: May 18, 2025
There was more of pathos in this than Murray imagined. There had been no beef on the Merryman table for many moons. "Murray, did you ever eat tripe?" "My dear child " "It sounds dee-licious when Toby Veck has it on a cold morning. And there's the cricket on the hearth and the teakettle singing. I'd love to hear a kettle sing like that, Murray; wouldn't you?" But Murray wouldn't.
"'No guests admitted unless in costume' . . . m-m-m-m . . . 'The Sultan Haroun-al-Raschid' . . . Oh, I see! We can rig up in anything we choose, so that it looks sort of Turkish. Dee-licious! I know what to do with my rose-colored cloak right now!" "My shawl will be stunning," rejoiced Elinor. "They've both come to us in the very nick of time.
"Do you think people are splendid and grand and magnificent because they live in palaces and wear " "Goodness gracious!" The big blue eyes surveyed the speaker with uncertainty. "Are you one of them, too?" "One what?" "Damanarkists. Mr. Leimberg is one. He hates people who live in palaces and wave wands and have dee-licious things to eat. He don't believe in it. Mr.
James appeared like magic with a tray, glasses, and tiny serviettes, and the Colonel's elixir was passed to the company. "To your beautiful eyes, Mrs. Poundstone," was Pennington's debonair toast as he fixed Mrs. P.'s green orbs with his own. "Poundstone, your very good health, sir." "Dee-licious," murmured Mrs. Poundstone. "Perfectly dee-licious. And not a bit strong!"
"Don't say one word!" said Mrs. Lloyd, sympathetically. "But it sounds dee-licious!" she added consolingly, and little Mrs. Carew went contentedly home to a hot and furious session in her kitchen; hours of baking, boiling and frying, chopping and whipping and frosting, creaming and seasoning, freezing and straining. "I don't mind the work, if only everything goes right!" Mrs.
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