“Oh! I am one of your subscribers; when will it appear?”
“Not before next season.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yes, sir but it is my intention to make an entire new work of it, and very different to any culinary work previously published. By that I do not mean to say it will be better, and perhaps not so good as many of them; but it will contain a large number of new receipts, written in a style which, I flatter myself, will tend very much to simplify the present system.”
“Let me see this receipt, but I require my spectacles—here they are.—‘La Crême de la Grande Bretagne, Macédoine;’ but it is French, I am sorry for that.”
“Why, sir?”
“Because my cook is English, and it will be very difficult for him to make, as he understands so little of French.”
“Oh, sir, if that is his only preventive, it would be a pity to deprive you of having it, so here is an English translation of it. You are welcome to both, sir.”
“‘The Cream of Great Britain,’ oh! thank you! thank you! I will read it at home, and then give it to him; but is it practicable at this season of the year?”
“Quite as practicable at one season as another, for it is partly composed of flowers which bloom in all seasons.”