Mrs. Merdle Ordereth The Second Course.

Come, John, Jane, and Susan, the soup take away,
And bring in the turbot, the sheep's head and bass;
And have you got lobster and salad to-day?
And see that the celery's all right in the glass.

Now fish--Colonel Dinewell, which fish will you try?
And how shall I dress it to suit your nice taste?
For sauce to the fish is as love to the sigh,
Imperfect, it's worthless, and both prove a waste.

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Horatio Alger, Jr. was a prolific 19th-century American author, best known for his many young adult novels about impoverished boys who rise from humble backgrounds to lives of middle-class security and comfort through hard work, determination, courage, and honesty. His works, which typically feature a rags-to-riches narrative, were immensely popular and instilled the American Dream ideal. Alger's stories were a reflection of the societal values of his time. However, despite his success as a writer, he lived a rather modest life and never married.

Horatio Alger, Jr.

The Object Aimed At.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

St. Nicholas.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

The Invitation.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

He Imploreth Merry For Other Unfortunate Beings.

Horatio Alger, Jr., Simple Poetry

English

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Mrs. Merdle Discourseth Of Things Eatable.

Now Colonel, to husband you need not be winking,
While wiping the soup with a smile from your lips;
I know just as well as he does how you're thinking
The soup is as tasteless as though made of chips.

You need not deny it, and swear that no better
Concocted was ever in London or Paris;
Remember the praises you gave in your letter
Of cooking and eating you wrote to Miss Harris.

Now, Colonel, don't offer a word more to flatter--
The soup may be so-so, but wait for the meat;
And after you've seen the last dish, plate, or platter,
You'll own then, I'm certain, we've nothing to eat--
That is compared, as described to Miss Harris,
With all the best tables you eat at in Paris.

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Mrs. Merdle Discourseth Again On Dinner.

But you are not eating, and I fear that the fish,
Or else 't is the gravy's not done to your wish.

You're starving while waiting for something to eat--
Thank fortune I told you how poorly we live--
I hope John now will give us a piece of roast meat,
Or else such a dinner you'd never forgive.

Why yes, Merdle, look, there is beef on that dish--
Jane Hill, don't you see, there's a plate here to shift--
That John is now bringing--'t is all he can lift--
And Colonel, that turkey, you know 't is my wish--
You know that Excelsior's your motto in carving--
As nothing more now we shall have on the table
"We'll eat and give thanks this day that we're able
To keep our poor bodies entirely from starving.

Now Susan's this all that you've been able to pick up?
...

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Mrs. Merdle Discourseth Of Hygiene And Fish Sauce.

But this is concocted by rules so complete;
Though piquant, is healthy and easy digested;
And if you will note it as slowly we eat,
The contents I'll give for our friends interested.

Imprimus: in fish stock, an onion we stew,
And anchovy essence two spoonfuls we add;
With butter, horse-radish, and lemons a few;
Mushrooms, too, in ketchup is not very bad;
And pickle of walnuts with onions chopped fine,
To which there is added some old sherry wine.

My doctor, so queer, when I suffer distress,
Inquires what I've latterly foolishly eaten,
And swears that to swallow this 'horrible mess,'
Would entitle a dog like a dog to be beaten.

But la! such a doctor knows nothing of women's complaints,
And talks Latin nonsense about 'regular diet;'
And thinks ...

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Mrs. Merdle, Having "Nibbled A Little" For Two Hours At Dinner, Retireth From The Table Unsatisfied.

"Impatient--oh yes--just the way with you men!

I never have time to half finish my eating
Ere Merdle is done; such a fidget is then,
He'd starve me I think rather 'n miss of a meeting
Where brokers preside o'er the fate of the stocks,
As Pales presided o'er shepherds and flocks.

Now while you are smoking--what nonsense and folly--
I'll go to my room.--don't say No, for I must--
Put on a new dress, with assistance of Molly,
And then with a little strong tea and a crust,
My strength I may hope for a walk will be able
As far as the gate, and a very short ride,
To give me a relish again for the table--
What else do we live for in this world beside?"

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Mrs. Merdle Discourseth Of Wishes And Her Sufferings.

'If wishes were horses'--I've heard when a girl--
'If wishes were horses, the beggars would ride'--
If wishes were pheasants, I'd wish with a skirl
Till cooked ones came flying and sat by my side.

A fig, then, for doctors, their tinctures and drugs;
Good eating would cure me, with plenty of game;
And as for pill boxes, and bottles, and jugs,
I wouldn't know one, when I saw it, by name.

Oh, dear! such a load now my stomach oppresses,
While eating these trifles, attempting to dine--
I'm sure 'taint the turkey--it must be my dresses--
And if so 't will ease them to sip sherry wine.

'Tis sad, though, to be such a sad invalid--
Dear me, Colonel Dinewell, you've done eating meat--
Your doctor, like mine, I hope hasn't forbid,
That you shouldn't have, as...

Horatio Alger, Jr.

Mrs. Merdle At Home.

She Discourseth of Nothing to Eat and the Cost thereof.

Why Merdle--why did you bring Dinewell to-day?
So very, though welcome, so quite unexpected!

For dinner, if any, I'm sure I can't say,
Our servants with washing are all so infected.

If any's provided, 't is nothing but scraps
Of pot-luck or pick up of some common fare;
Or something left over from last week perhaps,
Which you've brought a friend, and an old one, to share.

I never, I'm sure now, so much was ashamed,
To think he'll discover--what's true to the letter--
We've nothing, or next to't that's fit to be named,
For one who is used every day to what's better.

But what can you expect if you come on a Monday?
Our French cook's away too, I vow and declare--
But if you would see ...

Horatio Alger, Jr.