"_But the fruit that falls without shaking
Indeed is too mellow for me._"
THERE are persons, as some of us can testify, who appear to be
horrified if a Manhattan cocktail is mentioned in the most casual
manner, and who are warranted to shy if they but get a whiff of a
Martini, but give them a chance to partake of an oyster cocktail and
you have added a substantial item to their sum of worldly pleasure.
Almost everybody likes an oyster cocktail when it is judiciously
mixed, but folk of the ilk above referred to do seem to have a
peculiar fondness for it. Now, is it because a course of total
abstinence has rendered their palates extremely sensitive to highly
seasoned impressions, or is it that the name has a witchery that
beguiles them into thinking that they are tasting a forbidden thing
without sacrificing a principle? I don't know. You tell.