A friend of mine eating his mutton chops and finding some cottony shreds in his mouth questioned his cook standing by, when the latter replied, that as he had no tallow, he had used the waste ends of the burned candles. The sahib at once seized his chef and holding him by the neck forced all the remaining mess down his throat, for which he was summoned before the magistrate and had to pay a fine of twenty-five rupees. “But,” said my friend, “I would willingly have paid five times that amount for the satisfaction I got in making him swallow the rest of the stuff with the burnt wicks.”
We wanted none of that kind of cooking in our club. Our next experiment was in the making of tea and coffee, and after a number of trials succeeded in producing articles that few of our people had ever tasted the like before, a nectar like coffee not to be paragoned anywhere in the world. “And they in France of the best rank and station are most select and generous,” in making this delicious drink.
Anent the native coffee-making is this told by a khansaman. His Sahib, an English doctor, was always complaining that he did not get good black coffee, such as they made in France. His cook at his wit’s end, finally took some charcoal and grinding it to powder mixed it with the coffee. His Sahib was highly delighted, and boastingly invited his friends to drink his real French coffee. The servant very considerately never told the story until after his master’s death.
Our manager fell in with our ways and suggestions and took great pride in the science as well as the art of cookery, and in having everything in the best possible condition.
It is a saying among the Europeans in India, “If you wish to enjoy your dinner never look into the cook-house.” We reversed that order to “If you wish to enjoy our food see how it is cooked.” Our restaurant was well patronized, and it was of great benefit, morally as well as physically. It was not for the poor alone, though the prices were so low, for the better class, that is, the better well-to-do, did not disdain to favor us, as everything was better than most of them could get in their homes, and I doubt if the great Commissioner Sahib, or the Commanding General, had near as good.
The only vice we tolerated was the smoking of tobacco, and this was confined to the smoking-room or to the grounds outside. In respect to this habit, we thought it best not to stretch the bow of restraint too far, lest it break with its own tension, or we be like “The man that once did sell the lion’s skin while the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.” “We may outrun, by violent swiftness, that which we run at, and lose by overrunning.”
The upper apartments were reserved entirely for the women, and reached by a wide, marble staircase from the lower entrance hall. They had their dressing-room, reading and other rooms richly furnished. They had more than an equal share, for besides their own, they had the right of our lecture hall, the library and refectory, but we were pleased with all their encroachments, for they assisted us in every way. The walls of the lecture hall and refectory were bare until we selected some mottoes, which our feminine members, with their skillful taste and hands, ornamented, making them works of art. This was done, not in a day, but during many months of most laborious work, with rivalry and pride as to which should produce the finest work. Some of the mottoes were these:
“We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart throbs.