Half Full Glass Of Water | dreamingfordreams.com

…little present. Are you fond of roast mutton?””Yes, ma’am,’ I replied, feeling very hungry all of a sudden, for the smell of all those good things I have told you about, sir, really made my mouth water.”And tripe? She went on”.”Again I answered, ‘ Yes”.”Then that is all right,’ she said, with a sigh of relief.” My husband and I ordered what we fancied you would most appreciate a good, homely fare and plenty of it so don’t be afraid to have a second helping. Now, Willie dear, let us begin”.”Well, sir, we all sat down. It was by far the” queerest meal I have ever had, and I cannot say I enjoyed it, for the meat was tough and the vegetables half raw. But there was no help for it.When I had got one plateful down and was congratulating myself that I could now give my jaws…

…as I beat and prodded it against the jagged edges of my teeth. But all to no purpose; my head remained full and my stomach empty.”A whole lifetime seemed to pass in this tantalising, agonising manner, and then into the room, in Indian file, stalked all my friends and relations, each carrying in their hands a champagne glass. My uncle, who had been dead and buried at the very least thirty years, headed the procession. Walking solemnly up to me, he took hold of my nose, twisted it round like a tap, and down through my foaming mouth poured the whiskey. As soon as his glass was full he raised it above his head, and exclaimed in a sepulchral voice, ‘ Health! Health! Health!’ to which all the company in chorus responded ‘ Amen! Amen! Amen!’ One after another my relatives and friends followed his example, and twisted my nose…