“You may be very wise, Posey Wyesdale, but trust me, a man has no eyes for either you or your gown, if after a long ride or much calling he finally, in an evil hour, succumbs to your invitation to lunch and you give him a mouthful of chicken and one slice of wafer-like bread and butter, the mighty whole washed down with a cup of weak tea or thin wine; rather would he (curled darling though he be) return to the primitive custom of his forefathers and feed the inner man at the much-despised mid-day dinner on steaming slices of venison or beef, while he slaked his thirst in a bumper of British beer. But as O'Gormon said to Castenelli, on dining with him on that same evening: "Faith, all that was on the table of Lady Wyesdale wouldn't add to the hips of a grasshopper."”
A cook of roughly the same moment, setting down the same dish.
fresh homemade bread; butter the cut end of the loaf thinly, then hold it against the side with the left hand and arm, and with a sharp, thin knife, cut an even slice not more than an eighth of an inch thick; a little practice, and a steady grasp of bread and knife, will enable any one to produce regular whole slices; fold each one double, with the butter inside; and cut as many as you require; serve them on a clean napkin, and send them to the table with any other of the above relishes. 32.
Sources: The passage is from Annie G. (Annie Gregg) Savigny, A Heart-Song of To-day, free to read in full at Project Gutenberg. The recipe is from Corson, The Cooking Manual of Practical Directions for Economical of 1877, also free in full. Both are in the public domain in the United States. The binding above is ours — forest cloth, grapes stamp.