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Updated: June 5, 2025
Grapewine invites us to a Christmas dinner, which, of course, we could not attend " "Why not?" exclaims Mrs. Totty, eagerly. "Which it would do gross injury to our principles to attend," continued Mr. Totty; "and I will call on him, with our refusal, this morning, myself." Mrs.
"Let us have a Christmas banquet, my dear," Mr. Grapewine steadily rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Who?" said Mrs. Grapewine. "Why, Totty and his wife, and Colonel Killiam, and and Dr. Tuggle and lady, and old Mrs. Gildenfenny and and " Mr. Grapewine snored. "Who?" said Mrs. Grapewine, somewhat loudly. "And and Pill." "Who's Pill?" said she. "Why oh, I mean your poor cousin Pillet.
We are all together, and to-morrow is Christmas-Day. Thank God." Read by the Landlord. "A jolly negation, who took upon him the ordering of the bills of fare." Lamb. "My dear," said Mr. Grapewine, over the dinner-table, about a fortnight before Christmas, "how many days to Christmas?" Mrs.
It is the preparation, the deferred hope, which render a good dinner one of the completest luxuries of life. The hungrier one is, the more prolonged the satisfaction of the palate. I don't think I have ever been hungry to the fullest extent of my capacity in my life." "Trip across Sahara!" interpolated Mrs. Grapewine.
"Don't you see that our stomachs will yearn for these strong delicacies, and, going unsatisfied, will relish them the more when we at last attack them?" "No!" "You have something to propose then, my dear. What is it? What have you to propose?" "Turkish bath!" "What a woman you are. A Turkish bath! How, Mrs. Grapewine, can a Turkish bath tickle a man's appetite? How can a Turkish "
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