"Curse me!" exclaimed the major, "I believe he can get anything we may
call for--raise it out of the ground by stamping his foot or ringing a
bell. Didn't I tell you?"
This exclamation was uttered in consequence of the appearance of a train
of well-dressed servants, five or six in number, bringing waiters with
dishes and decanters. They entered from the porch; but how did they get
into it? Certainly not from the woods without, else we should have seen
them as they approached the cage.
The major uttered a terrible invocation, adding in a hoarse whisper,
"This must be the Mexican Aladdin!"
I confess I was not less puzzled than he. Meantime the servants came
and went, going empty, and returning loaded. In less than half an hour
the table fairly creaked under the weight of a sumptuous dinner. This
is no figure of speech. There were dishes of massive silver, with huge
flagons of the same metal, and even cups of gold!
"_Senores, vamos a comer_" (Come, let us eat, gentlemen), said Don
Cosme, politely motioning us to be seated. "I fear that you will not be
pleased with my _cuisine_--it is purely Mexican--_estilo del pais_."
To say that the dinner was not a good one would be to utter a falsehood,
and contradict the statement of Major George Blossom, of the U.S.
quarter-master's department, who afterwards declared that it was the
best dinner he had ever eaten in his life.
Turtle-soup first.
"Perhaps you would prefer _julienne_ or _vermicelli_, gentlemen?"
inquired the Don.
"Thank you; your turtle is very fine," replied I, necessarily the
interpreter of the party.
"Try some of the _aguacate_--it will improve the flavour of your soup."
One of the waiters handed round a dark, olive-coloured fruit of an
oblong shape, about the size of a large pear.
"Ask him how it is used, Captain," said the major to me.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, gentlemen. I had forgotten that some of our
edibles may be strange to you. Simply pare off the rind, and slice it
thus."
We tried the experiment, but could not discover any peculiar improvement
in the flavour of the soup. The pulp of the aguacate seemed singularly
insipid to our northern palates.
Fish, as with us, and of the finest quality, formed the second course.
A variety of dishes were now brought upon the table; most of them new to
us, but all piquant, pleasant to the taste, and peculiar.
The major tried them all, determined to find out which he might like
best--a piece of knowledge that he said would serve him upon some future
occasion.
The Don seemed to take a pleasure in helping the major, whom he honoured
by the title of "Senor Coronel."
"_Puchero_, Senor Coronel?"
"Thank you, sir," grunted the major, and tried the puchero.
"Allow me to help you to a spoonful of _mole_."
"With pleasure, Don Cosme."
The _mole_ suddenly disappeared down the major's capacious throat.
"Try some of this _chile relleno_."
"By all means," answered the major. "Ah, by Jove! hot as fire!--whew!"
"_Pica! Pica_!" answered Don Cosme, pointing to his thorax, and smiling
at the wry faces the major was making. "Wash it down, Senor, with a
glass of this claret--or here, Pepe! Is the Johannisberg cool yet?
Bring it in, then. Perhaps you prefer champagne, Senores?"
"Thank you; do not trouble yourself, Don Cosme."
"No trouble, Capitan--bring champagne. Here, Senor Coronel, try the
_guisado de pato_."
"Thank you," stammered the major; "you are very kind. Curse the thing!
how it burns!"
"Do you think he understands English?" inquired Clayey of me in a
whisper.
"I should think not," I replied.
"Well, then, I wish to say aloud that this old chap's a superb old gent.
What say you, Major? Don't you wish we had him on the lines?"
"I wish his kitchen were a little nearer the lines," replied the other,
with a wink.
"Senor Coronel, permit me--"
"What is it, my dear Don?" inquired the major.
"_Pasteles de Moctezuma_."
"Oh, certainly. I say, lads, I don't know what the plague I'm eating--
it's not bad to take, though."
"Senor Coronel, allow me to help you to a _guana_ steak."
"A guana steak!" echoed the major, in some surprise.
"_Si, Senor_," replied Don Cosme, holding the steak on his fork.
"A guana steak! Do you think, lads, he means the ugly things we saw at
Lobos."
"To be sure--why not?"
"Then, by Jove, I'm through! I can't go lizards. Thank you, my dear
Don Cosme; I believe I have dined."
"Try this; it is very tender, I assure you," insisted Don Cosme.
"Come, try it, Major, and report," cried Clayey.
"Good--you're like the apothecary that poisoned his dog to try the
effect of his nostrums. Well,"--with an oath--"here goes! It can't be
very bad, seeing how our friend gets it down. Delicious, by Jupiter!
tender as chicken--good, good!"--and amidst sundry similar ejaculations
the major ate his first guana steak.
"Gentlemen, here is an ortolan pie. I can recommend it--the birds are
in season."
"Reed-birds, by Jove!" said the major, recognising his favourite dish.
An incredible number of these creatures disappeared in an incredibly
short time.
The dinner dishes were at length removed, and dessert followed: cakes
and creams, and jellies of various kinds, and blancmange, and a
profusion of the most luxurious fruits. The golden orange, the ripe
pine, the pale-green lime, the juicy grape, the custard-like cherimolla,
the zapote, the granadilla, the pitahaya, the tuna, the mamay; with
dates, figs, almonds, plantains, bananas, and a dozen other species of
fruits, piled upon salvers of silver, were set before us: in fact, every
product of the tropical clime that could excite a new nerve of the sense
of taste. We were fairly astonished at the profusion of luxuries that
came from no one knew where.
"Come, gentlemen, try a glass of curacoa. Senor Coronel, allow me the
pleasure."
"Sir, your very good health."
"Senor Coronel, would you prefer a glass of Majorca?"
"Thank you."
"Or perhaps you would choose _Pedro Ximenes_. I have some very old
_Pedro Ximenes_."
"Either, my dear Don Cosme--either."
"Bring both, Ramon; and bring a couple of bottles of the Madeira--_sello
verde_," (green seal).
"As I am a Christian, the old gentleman's a conjuror!" muttered the
major, now in the best humour possible.
"I wish he would conjure up something else than his infernal wine
bottles," thought I, becoming impatient at the non-appearance of the
ladies.
"_Cafe_, Senores?" A servant entered.
Coffee was handed round in cups of Sevres china.
"You smoke, gentlemen? Would you prefer a Havanna? Here are some sent
me from Cuba by a friend. I believe they are good; or, if you would
amuse yourself with a cigaritto, here are Campeacheanos. These are the
country cigars--_puros_, as we call them. I would not recommend them."
"A Havanna for me," said the major, helping himself at the same time to
a fine-looking "regalia."