Monday Morning Procedure for the Week-end Guest



Breakfast in bed and do not appear before eleven o’ clock.

A dependable old axiom:

Up before breakfast, bored before night.

The stay-abed guest is the hostess’ delight.


She speeds the parting guest:


“Quick, Pixie, the orange juice. Take it up and wake them.  They’ve got a plane to catch.  And there’s a flower for the tray.”

“No, they’ll come down.  I’ll set the table and cut the melon.”

Poached eggs on a muffin should do the trick.

On the table a bowl of pink wild Roses, slightly damp, poor things.

“Goodbye, my dears, goodbye.  It was lovely to see you.  Do come again soon.  Yes, Elf will get you there in time.  He never misses a plane.”

“Now Pixie, I’m going to the shower and then I’ll weed and weed and weed.  I ought to give the Dahlias their weekly manure today.  Did you ever see anything grow as fast as weeds?”

One pleasant thing about the departure of guests is the zest with which you return to your daily round.


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