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"Don't you remember that morning you came to Wayne Hall for breakfast and asked anxiously if there would be waffles?" teased Mrs. Gray. "It was at the time Grace and I went to Overton to set Harlowe House to rights." "Oh, yes! So it was." Elfreda looked owlishly innocent. "That was the time you got my waffle number. It seems a long while since then, doesn't it, Grace?" "Yes."
She's the skirmish line scouts videttes whatever you please to call 'em. There's no-one up yet none of the family over to our place. We are hungry, Cal. I hope this is waffle morning?" Caleb smiled at him, less impersonality in the mirth.
The morning paper lay unread before Philon Miller on the breakfast table and even the prospects of steaming coffee, ham, eggs and orange juice could not make him forget his last night's visitors. On the closed-circuit Industrial TV screen glowed the words, Food Preparation Center breakfast menu for July 24, 2052. No. 1, orange juice, coffee, ham and eggs. No. 2, waffle, coffee....
"I am not cross. And Preston, please! don't!" Daisy's fork fell; but she took it up again. "What is the matter, then, Daisy?" Daisy did not answer; she went on eating as diligently as she could. "Is it that foolish business of the song?" whispered Preston. "Is that the trouble, Daisy?" "Please don't, Preston!" "Well I won't, till you have had another waffle. Sugar and cream, Daisy?" "Yes."
The man who was both cook and waiter remembered afterwards that Farnum called for coffee, sausage, and a waffle. Before the editor left the waffle house it was the morning of the twenty-third. He had never felt less sleepy. Nor did a book and a pipe before his gas log seem quite what he wanted.
He showered and lugged the Filson bag down to the restaurant where he ate a waffle with strawberries, drank coffee and two glasses of water. He assessed the situation. You're in Seattle, Joe. Airport. Take bus? Save money. It was a smiley morning. The waitress and the desk clerk were in good moods. The trolley driver was singing. The sun was shining; that must have had something to do with it.
The June Holiday Home was one of those sumptuous stations where indigent gentlewomen assemble to await the coming of the last train. Breakfast was always served precisely at seven o'clock, and certain dishes appeared as regularly as the days. This was waffle morning on the Home calendar; outside it was known as Thursday.
With a laugh Stoner accepted this explanation, and then announced that he was hungry for his breakfast. This time Mallow spoke up. "I'm bally-hooing for a new joint; Fulton's Fancy Waffle Foundry. Follow me and I'll try to wedge you in. But you'll have to eat fast and pick your teeth on the sidewalk, for we need the room."
It was growing late, so they all went to a waffle shop for their supper. In the shop a woman sat before an open fire. On the fire was a big waffle iron. She made the waffles, put sugar and butter on them, and passed a plate of them to each one. Oh, how good they were! When they had eaten their waffles, Father and Mother Vedder and the Twins went back to the canal and put on their skates.
Instead of a hot-bread I have the greatest hot-bread artist in the world at my house, bar none! waffle, sausage, kidney-stew, lamb-chop, fried-egg and so forth sort of breakfast, I cut that meal down to some fruit, a couple of pieces of dry, hard toast, two boiled eggs and coffee. I cut out the luncheon altogether. No more luncheon for me!
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