A Black Bull — 504
At a coloured ball the following notice was posted on the door-post:—“Tickets, fifty cents. No gemmen admitted unless he comes himself.”
A New Dish — 505
Pete Johnson was a tall, green, raw-boned country negro, and knew nothing of city life or polished society. Recently he became tired of tilling the soil by the month, journeyed to the metropolis, and let himself as a waiter on board a steamer which plies up and down the Sound on the New York, Norwich, and Boston line. As is customary with new waiters, in order to train them to ease, and give them the necessary polish and experience, he was required at first to attend the officers’ tables exclusively. But one evening, after a few weeks’ service, there came a great rush of passengers, and, of course, the supper-room was thronged. Pete was sent to the public tables for the first time. He got along very well until a guest called for an omelet. This was a new dish to the green waiter, but he thought he understood the order correctly, and with his usual gravity, stepped up to the kitchen door and cried out, “An almanac!”