One of them told me she had seen an
Englishman once before, a few months back; but he only had one eye, and
she seemed to think I was out of order in possessing two. At length the
soup came, and the first attempt upon it proved it to be utterly
impossible. The landlady was called in, and this fact was announced to
her. 'What to do, then?--it was a good soup, a soup which the people of
Die loved,--it was a soup the household eat morning and night.' All the
same, it was not a soup the present Englishman could eat, and some other
sort of food must be provided, for she declined to furnish soup without
garlic and fat. She suggested an omelette; but a natural generalisation
from all I had so far seen drew an untempting picture of the probable
state of the frying-pan, and I declined to face the idea until I was
convinced there was nothing else to be had. But, alas! notwithstanding
the righteous indignation with which the landlady met my request that
the omelette might not be all fat, the manipulation of the eggs
eventuated in a dish even more impracticable than the soup, flooded with
unmentionable grease, and so at last the cold mutton became a necessity.
Pages:
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344