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Updated: May 6, 2025
The ladies went to the kitchen, where they made quick and grateful noises. Pretty soon Uncle Henry came round a lovely corner and said try a tumbler of this here grape wine, which he poured from a pressed-glass pitcher; so I tried it and gave him a town cigarette, which he tucked between his beautiful white moustache and his beautiful white whiskers.
Folks ought to appreciate lovely things, but just the same, they got to be practical and they got to look at things in a practical way." Smiling, passing each other the pressed-glass pickle-dish, seeing Mrs.
But now, because he was in such a fever to please the Carters, Father fairly slashed their last loaf of bread, and slapped in the lettuce, while Mother was drawing tea. In two minutes he was proudly entering with the service-tray. He set it down before the Carters; he fussed with a crumb on the table-cloth, with the rather faded crimson rambler in the ornate pressed-glass vase. Mrs.
A red-and-white pressed-glass punch bowl, purchased out of Nicholas's aged fourteen pig-bank savings. An enlarged crayon of her twins from a baby picture. A patent rocker which she kept in the kitchen. Another chair capable of metamorphosis into a ladder. And Mosher's cup. From this Mosher drank with gusto.
Two more of him were also genii of the basement dining-hall, two low rooms made into one and entirely bisected by a long-stemmed T of dining-table, and between the lace-curtained windows a small table for two, with fairly snowy napkins flowering out of its water-tumblers, and in its center a small island of pressed-glass vinegar-cruet, bottle of darkly portentous condiment, glass of sugar, and another of teaspoons.
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