Post by debreos on Mar 7, 2020 20:10:19 GMT
“What was it yesterday?” The manservant had stopped, resting his tray on the window ledge while he addressed the porter coming out of the rear entrance of Hunters with a set of dirty plates on his tray.
“A Rice soup with croutons, followed by entrees of Fowl wings a la Marechale and Sweetbreads en papillot, removed with Brie and black bread,” returned his fellow, resting his tray in turn. “And tonight?”
“Asparagus au beurre to start, followed by Turkey giblets in consommé and Larded breasts of mutton with chicory, with pears in red wine to finish. How he manages to put it all away I don’t know.” He picked his tray up again. “I’d better get it to him before it cools. Are you feeding him again tomorrow?”
“No, I think it is the turn of le Pomme d’Or tomorrow night.” The porter picked up his tray of crockery again. “Just as well – our cook is beginning to run out of recipes for new meals. I think she was going to talk to her mother today to see whether she had anything of interest.”
“Why is he spending so much on different meals every night?” asked the first manservant, as he stepped under the porch of Hunters trade entrance.
“None of your business!” reproved the groom who was sitting there, drinking cider. “As long as he has the cash, who cares? Although he did tell me to make sure his tack was ready for use at the end of February – I think he’s off to the Front.”
“That explains it!” exclaimed the porter, stopping short. “He’s a Captain in the Picardy Musketeers, isn’t he?”
“So what?”
“Well, given their record over the last few months, I think he’s following that old adage – eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die!”