"I say, we'll drop that. Let's come to a good honest roast. Shoulder of lamb, say--but we can't manage mint sauce. There's no vinegar."
"With respect, sir, in intelligent anticipation I provide for that. I put quantity of Bill's honey in ferment, and made acidulous liquid passable imitation of vinegar; pious fraud."
"Plenty of vegetables, of course."
"Croquettes de pomme de terre, choux-fleurs à la Lulu, topinambours à la crême."
"Look here, I can't spell that crack-jaw. What, in plain English, are topinambours?"
"In vulgar tongue, sir, Jerusalem artichokes; but you will agree that final syllable of artichokes is ominous and forbidding, especially to ladies."
"Well, I've had enough of it. Finish the menu yourself. I've no doubt everything will be all right."
John went out and strolled round the farm. It presented a different appearance: four or five new wooden huts, neatly thatched, erected for the accommodation of the visitors expected, stood near the bungalow. John was at present the only white man on the farm, Mr. Halliday having returned to Nairobi with the rest of the rescue-party to make some purchases, and Ferrier to meet his sister and get attention to his wounded thigh. The evening before, a messenger had come in advance, to announce that the visitors would arrive next day: Mr. Halliday was returning with Mrs. Burtenshaw, her family, and the Ferriers. Said Mohammed was determined "to do credit to the establishment," as he put it; he would show the guests "that the resources of civilization were not dead letter in African wilds."
As the day drew on, John became restless. He had the floor of the bungalow scrubbed twice; set Lulu to scour the pans in the dairy for the third time; and got Coja to cut his hair. He was in some agitation of mind as to what he should wear. He looked out a white shirt, collar, and tie, and a suit of clothes he had not worn since he left England. His unaccustomed fingers struggled with his collar-stud until he was in despair, and when he had knotted his tie he found that he had no clips, and the wretched thing threatened to ride up to his chin.
He was standing at the door of the bungalow, thus arrayed, and feeling ridiculously got up, when he saw Ferrier galloping up on a pony.