Dinners and Luncheons by Paul Pierce (mystery books to read TXT) 📖
- Author: Paul Pierce
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The brightest wit can find us;
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven tonight,
And leave dull earth behind us!
—Thomas Moore.
Bon Voyage.
May every joy the traveler knows,
Be yours upon the trip,
May favoring winds fill out your sails
And safely speed your ship.
May rest and recreation bring
Their meed of health and strength
While under alien skies you roam,
Then homeward turn at length.
To those who have passed me on the highway and gave greeting,
To the possible friends who have come my way, whose eyes lingered as they fell on mine,
May they ever be eager with youth, and strong with fellowship
May they never miss a welcome or want a comrade.
—Marie McGee.
Here's to man, God's first thought.
Here's to woman, God's second thought
As second thoughts are best—
Here's to woman.
Drink, for you know not
Whence you came nor why;
Drink, for you know not why
You go, nor whence.
—Omar Khayyam.
Here's to the press, the pulpit and the petticoat, the three ruling powers of the day. The first spreads knowledge, the second spreads morals, and the third spreads considerably.
The Lord gave teeth to men, that they might eat,
And then, to use them on, he gave us meat;
But here's a health to that great man who took
And brought the two together—to the cook!
Here's a toast to the host who carved the roast; And a toast to the hostess—may none ever "roast" us.
Ladies' Toast.The soldiers of America.
Their arms our defense, our arms their reward;
Fall in, men, fall in.
Here's to the chaperone,
May she learn from Cupid
Just enough blindness
To be sweetly stupid.
—Oliver Herford.
If we drink to China, we drink the poison of the "Sick Man of the East;" if we drink to Italy, we put "The Boot" on the wrong foot; if we drink to Peru, we burn our lips on the equator; so let us drink to him who hath not harm in his heart, venom in his veins, nor flaw in his flag—Uncle Sam.
Let us toast our huddled little brothers of the frigid North—the Esquimaux. They need it.
Father O'Flynn.Far renowned for larnin' and piety,
Still I'd advance ye widout impropriety,
Father O'Flynn as the flower of them all.
Here's a health to you, Father O'Flynn,
Slainte and slainte and slainte agin.
Pow'rfulest preacher and tenderest teacher
And kindliest creature in ould Donegal.
To the stars and the stripes,
To the land of our birth,
The American girl—
The best things on earth.
Here's to the lying lips we meet,
For truthful lips are bores.
But lying lips are very sweet
When lying close to yours!
—Smart Set.
Drink to Life and the passing show,
And the eyes of the prettiest girl you know!
Drink, Drink, Drink!
Drink to the girl of your heart;
The wisest, the wittiest, the bravest, the prettiest;
May you never be far apart.
Here's to the girl—
With dash and whirl—
Who rides about in an auto;
Here's to the man
Who'll bridle her
To ride about as she "ought to."
Here's to love, the only fire against which there is no insurance.
Here's to the lasses we've loved, my lad,
Here's to the lips we've pressed;
For of kisses and lasses
Like liquor in glasses,
The last is always the best.
To Woman—When she is neither too young to be wise, nor too old to be careful.—Minnie Thomas Antrim.
To Woman—A paradox who puzzles when she pleases and pleases when she puzzles.—Minnie Thomas Antrim.
To the Finest Girl I Know.Here's to her whose presence is ever and always near,
Here's to her whose large brown eyes make life forever dear;
Here's to her whose fair white skin is clear as the whitest snow,
Here's to the sweetest of her sex—
The finest girl I know!
Here's to the rim of my lady's glass,
But tipped by her beautiful lip,
And here's to the thrill that must certainly pass
From the rim to the base of that fortunate glass
Whenever she takes a sip.
—Bayard Bacon.
Here's health to you and wealth to you,
Honors and gifts a thousand strong;
Here's name to you and fame to you,
Blessing and joy a whole life long.
But, lest bright Fortune's star grow dim,
And sometimes cease to move to you,
I fill my bumper to the brim
And pledge a lot of love to you!
I fill this cup to one made up
Of loveliness alone,
A woman, of her gentler sex
The seeming paragon.
Her health! and would on earth there stood
Some more of such a frame,
That life might be all poetry,
And weariness a name.
—Edward Coate Pinckney.
To my lady fair
I fill my cup!
To my lady fair
With the cheeks so rare
Where the dimples dare
To tarry;
To her footsteps bright
So like the flight
Of a swallow light
And airy—
To my lady fair
I fill my cup,
To my lady fair
I drink it up!—Bayard Bacon.
Oh, lovely woman! man's great bane
And joy! You ne'er can pall!
Source of all pleasure and all pain,
And—bless you! worth it all!
—Lewis.
Drink to fair woman, who, I think,
Is most entitled to it;
For if anything could ever drive me to drink,
She certainly could do it.—B. Jabez Jenkins.
Here's to woman, lovely woman—
Gladdest in her gladness when she's glad;
Saddest in her sadness when she's sad;
But her gladness when she's glad,
And her sadness when she's sad,
Aren't in it with her badness when she's bad.
I've toasted your eyes of blue, Marie,
I've toasted your hair of brown;
I've toasted your name with joyous glee
To every man in town.
I've done my best, so here's my plea.
Fair lady of winsome frown,
Could you decide to make for me
My toast of golden brown?
A slice of love; a piece of joy;
A chunk of adoration;
A sliver of unfailing health,
And bridal concentration;
An atom of the groom's content;
The sweetness of the bride—
And may the crumbs of comfort
With both of them abide.
She has planted a family tree that branches forever; let us drink to the dew of its roots and sip the April showers on its buds, and the golden sun that shall never cease to shine on its ripening fruit.
To a Bride.Happy is the bride whom the sun shines on,
And happy today are you;
May all of the glad dreams you have dreamed
In all of your life come true;
May every good there is in life
Step down from the years to you.
Here's to the stork,
A most valuable bird,
That inhabits the residence districts
He doesn't sing tunes,
Nor yield any plumes,
But he helps out the vital statistics.
—Portland Oregonian.
Here's hoping that the little tot
We christened at the water
May live to take another name
And name another daughter.
We haven't all had the good fortune to be ladies; we have not all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when the toast works down to babies, we stand on common ground—for we've all been babies.—Samuel L. Clemens (Mark Twain).
When the old Bachelor Announces his Engagement:To the hour he found his courage;
To the smile that won his heart
With a little look of sweetness
And a dainty Cupid dart;
To the bachelor's broken pledges;
To the venial little sin
That he cannot do without her—
To the girl that took him in.
Bring frost bring snow,
Come winter; bring us holly
Bring joy at Christmas,
Off with melancholy.
Sing ho, sing hey
For the holiday.
Sing hey for good Christmas cheer
But quaff one glass
To the days that pass
The last of the grand Old Year.
Here's to the old year, drink boys, drink.
Here's to the days that have fled.
Old friends, old wine, old memories;
Drink to the joys that are dead.
Here's to the New Year stretching ahead,
To the days that are blithesome and gay,
May the joys of the old be the joys of the new,
Its sorrows fade gently away.
Here's good-bye to the old year—
Here's regret.
It has done the best it could—
Let's not forget.
Here's greeting to the New Year—
Hold out a hand.
Let's do the best that we know how—
Make a good stand.
A basket of Parma violets or of valley lilies makes a delightful gift to carry home to the children of the family after it has beautified a woman's luncheon table. Pale daffodils are exquisite in a grass green frame, and so on.
The bottom of each basket is fitted out with a tin plate filling it exactly. Upon this is placed the damp moss which keeps the blossoms fresh throughout the meal. The flowers are arranged in upright position to look exactly as if growing out from the wicker-work receptacle.
Centerpieces are either very low or very high. There seems to be no intermediate stage. A number of fashionable women whose table fashions are watched and copied still cling to the low bed of flowers which allows one to see the face of the vis-a-vis.
A charming centerpiece which smart florists are suggesting is of white hyacinths and violets. The violets used are either of the pale double varieties or the large single flower—usually the latter.
Violets and hyacinths are not mingled. Either one-half of the centerpiece is formed of each with its own foliage, or large clusters of each are massed together. There is no scattering of the single blossoms.
As for the rose basket. It is entirely lovely. It is in use everywhere. It has one fault. It is sure to cut off one side of the table from the eyes of the other half. Women who must have what is newest use it for every kind of social entertaining—dinners, luncheons—wherever a table is used. More conservative hostesses have one for a wedding breakfast or other affair where there is no question of cutting off the view of any guest.
These baskets are really among the daintiest bits of table furniture that the florists have yet devised. Usually the body of the basket is more or less shallow. The handle curving over it is very high and carried out in some artistic design of wicker-work.
Long rose sprays are loveliest for filling these baskets. When well arranged the sprays appear to spring from the body of the basket, to climb wildly upward along the handle and to meet at the top in a mad tangle of spicy blossoms.
For decorations for a summer luncheon have a large gilt basket of white sweet peas in the center of the table and tiny baskets of gilt wicker filled with white sweet peas at each plate. For ice cream have a boat of plain vanilla filled with luscious fresh strawberries. Red raspberries, ripe peaches or any desired fruit can be used to fill the boat. A pretty conceit would be to have the lower part of the boat of pistachio to represent the sea and the upper part
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