Page:Stewart Edward White--The Rose Dawn.djvu/47

Rh the Colonel's own hand. Sing Toy and two younger replicas had charge of serving them.

At the Colonel's right sat Allie, for was she not the guest of honour? At his left billowed Mrs. Judge Crosby. Mrs. Doctor Wallace was across the way, and so the Colonel found himself surrounded with dignity, substantial importance, and what would have been certain stodginess had it not been for his own inexhaustible and genuine desire that everyone have a good time. He plied them with courtesy, with food, with drink, with rather elaborate old compliments, pretending to believe that remote yesterdays were but just around the corner. And every few moments he would remark with an air of discovery on the excellence of some dish, and would send for the cook thereof.

"These are real camp soda biscuits," he told Mrs. Crosby. "Just the kind you will get on rodeo. I wonder who made them? Who made these biscuits, Ynez?" he asked a Spanish girl who passed. "Find out, and ask the one who cooked them to stop here a moment. You won't mind, will you?" he flattered Mrs. Judge. "So you made these soda biscuits!" he said a moment later, as a lazy, awkward American cowboy stood before him twisting his broad hat. "Well, you are an artist, and I wanted Mrs. Peyton to see you and tell you so."

"Indeed, they are delicious. Better than I could do myself. And you know I am quite a cook," said Mrs. Peyton briskly.

"Yes, ma'am," said the cowboy. "You'd do a heap better always if you use a Dutch oven 'stead of a stove."

He retired hot with embarrassment, outwardly stolid, and inwardly "tickled to death."

In like manner a farmer's wife was complimented on her jelly—though in her case the Colonel gallantly hunted her up to tell her so. Indeed the Colonel was always popping up and moving about to exchange a few words with his guests at the other tables. But also some things had been contributed by those sitting at the Colonel's own table.

"Mrs. Mainwaring," the Colonel called down the line to a little middle-aged Southern woman. "Nobody north of the Mason and Dixon can make beaten biscuits. That has been