“That’s an eel-pie in front of you, Doubleday,” I said.
Now at all the parties I had been to I had never before seen an eel-pie. I therefore flattered myself I had a novelty to offer to my guests.
“Eel-pie, eh?” said Doubleday; “do you catch them about here, then? Eel-pie, who says eel-pie? Don’t all speak at once. Bring forth the hot plates, my boy, and we’ll lead off.”
“It’s cold,” I faltered.
“Oh, goodness gracious! Cold eel-pie, gentlemen. You really must not all speak at once. Who says cold eel-pie? The Field-Marshal does!”
“No, he doesn’t,” replied the Field-Marshal, laughing.
“Flanagan does, then?”
“No, thank you,” said Flanagan.
“Well, you Twins; you with the cut on your chin. I wish one of you’d always cut your chin shaving, one would know you from the other. Any cold eel-pie?”
“Rather not,” said the Twin addressed.