It is nineteen minutes after one on a summer night. And if only I
felt a bit hungry this is what I should wish--spread out on a damask
cloth before me in a few gold-medallioned Chinese dishes, with no
forks or knives: first of all, two thin _foie-gras_ sandwiches, four
grilled snails and maybe a little alligator pear: on top of those,
two truffles: on top of those, two slim onions: on top of those, two
thin salted biscuits: on top of those, a bit of Camembert cheese: on
top of that, two cigarettes: on top of all a hollow-stemmed glass of
sparkling Burgundy.
I’m not hungry, but it is comforting to think how delightful that
supper would taste if I were. Food is a so magic rich gusty gift
bestowed on the human race: and is besides a profoundly delicious
Idea.
I like food better to imagine than even to eat. If I were hungry I
think I could obtain that chaste supper item for item, and eat it:
swallow it down magic and all, and thus vanquish it magic and all,
and there an end. So I am glad I am not hungry. It is much more
delectable to sit here and think that if I were--
_if_ I were--
a Hollow-stemmed Glass of Sparkling Burgundy.
two cigarettes.
a Bit of Camembert Cheese.
two Thin Salted Biscuits.
two Slim Onions.
two Truffles.
two Thin _Foie-Gras_ Sandwiches: Four Grilled Snails: and maybe a
Little Alligator Pear.
If I were a bit hungry: oh, the idea of a little supper! It would
then be blestness, benediction--fruit of the very garden of Paradise!
_A mountebank’s cloak_