The menu was particularly choice, the shades of countless canvas-back ducks, terrapin, and sheep having been called into requisition, and cooked by no less a person than Brillat-Savarin, in the hottest oven he could find in the famous cooking establishment superintended by the government.
Washington was on hand early, sampling the olives and the celery and the wines, and giving to Charon final instructions as to the manner in which he wished things served.
The first guest to arrive was Confucius, and after him came Diogenes, the latter in great excitement over having discovered a comparatively honest man, whose name, however, he had not been able to ascertain, though he was under the impression that it was something like Burpin, or Turpin, he said.
At eight the brilliant company was arranged comfortably about the board.
An orchestra of five, under the leadership of Mozart, discoursed sweet music behind a screen, and the feast of reason and flow of soul began.
"This is a great day," said Doctor Johnson, assisting himself copiously to the olives.
"Yes," said Columbus, who was also a guest--"yes, it is a great day, but it isn't a marker to a little day in October I wot of." "Still sore on that point ?" queried Confucius, trying the edge of his knife on the shade of a salted almond.
"Oh no," said Columbus, calmly.

"I don't feel jealous of Washington.

He is the Father of his Country and I am not.

I only discovered the orphan.
I knew the country before it had a father or a mother.

There wasn't anybody who was willing to be even a sister to it when I knew it.