Life — September 4, 1913 — page 25: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Warm Weather Luncheon (As Ordered By Her.) | Fase so frightfully warm, I'll sit under this fan. Bring me- some really icy ice water, waiter, with real ice in it, please. What is it weather? And what is one to eat? You ought to know some nice chilly foods. Nothing at all solid or heavy, you understand, I absolutely will not be one of those frightfully misguided persons who go right on through mid- summer with dangerously stimulating meats and sauces, sweets and soups. Isn't it simply terrible how they do it, and yet they wonder at heat pros- trations and sunstroke. Even the sight of this menu card makes me a little faint. Why don’t they have just six or eight things, white and gold, celluloid cards, you know, and keep them iced? The lobster salad is good you say? I'm so afraid of canned lobster. I had a cousin once—ah, well—never mind. Of course, I know you wouldn't bring me canned lobster if you knew it was canned. Certainly not. But it is so difficult to be sure, don't you think?) They say they chop the canned kind and then put it back in artificial shells. True, lobster salad ts cool—but do you think it is exactly a luncheon dish? Wouldn't it make it seem ex- actly like the middle of the night? I am sure when dinner time came I one eats in warm BASEBALL TALK REACHING AFTER A FLY BA 3 Wacien= CROQUO—POLO THE NEW should be ordering eggs and toast and coffee. No, I don't mean to be funny —not at all. Don’t laugh, please. How are the clams? Are they quite cold—and very teeny, weeny, little specks so that you can just tell they are clams? And have them buried in chopped ice and have the fork iced, please. Cold ham? No; we had ham at home for breakfast. I didn’t choose it, but what is one to do? Our family just adores ham—that is, all but me! Of course, I shouldn't hate it so if we didn’t have it so often. I've not a thing personally against But in weather like this—one can't be too careful. Cold spring lamb is always safe, isn’t it?—and have it quite cold. With some of that curly salad—I always forget the name. Endive? Why, waiter, endive is very straight—anything but curly; I mean that crimpy, marcelled looking one. No. Please name them over very slowly. I am not troubling you too much, am I—or taking up your time? Lettuce—no. Artichoke—no. Alli- gator pear—oh, no. Grapefruit—dear me, no. Celery—no—no, Escarole— no. Beet—not at all. Dandelion—no. Chicory—oh, yes—yes—yes! That's it, A very light French dressing—and place the bowl in another bowl of ice, won't you? Rhine wine and seltzer—thank you, no—it tastes too seltzerish. I think PHILADELPHIA SPORT iced coffee and whipped cream, frothy cream, will do nicely. heavy. Bring me some of the pastry—a peach or an apricot tart— anything that is really good in that line. Not pineapple, of course, or anything silly like that. Bring me something that has some meaning to it. Anything clse—why let me see—it's so frightfully warm. Suppose—just after the clams—and before the other things, you bring me a broiled steak— quite thick— and some giant asparagus with Hollandaise sauce. That will do nicely. Have you a palm leaf fan about here any place, waiter? Kate Masterson. os —_ THE GHOST OF A CHANCE comicbooks.com