At supper, the doctor and his friend and two ladies were the only guests. Just what part the “horse-slayer” had had in its preparation was not obvious, since he had, after caring for the horse, only sat with a pipe in his mouth and his heels elevated on the bar-room stove, or following to the sitting-room, and continually plied the doctor with questions. However, the supper was ample, thanks to “Dolly.”
“Is there anything more wanted?” inquired the table girl,—a round-faced, round-headed country specimen in neat calico.
“Yes,” replied the doctor, “we would like some napkins, seeing there are none on the table.”
Away hastened the girl, who, quickly returning, asked in very primitive simplicity,—
“How will you have them cooked?”
“O, boiled, if you please,” replied the doctor, without changing a muscle about his sober-looking face.
The girl disappeared at full trot, followed by jeers of laughter from the gentlemen present, and suppressed titters from the ladies.
In a few moments “Dolly” made her appearance, and after searching in vain through the side-table drawer and a cupboard in the dining-room, she said they had none in the house, and intimated that the table girl could not be induced to return, after being laughed at for her ignorance of what a napkin was, and that “herself would wait upon the guests.”
When the doctor returned, the “horse-slayer” called out that the napkin doctor was coming, upon which the terrified table-girl ran away and hid.
My informant says, “You’re only to say, any time, ‘Here comes that napkin doctor,’ and the table girl nearly goes wild, dropping everything, and hiding away in her chamber till assured it is only a false alarm.”