A NARRATIVE.
Take a distant village—follow with high-road—introduce and boil down pedlar, gut his pack, and cut his throat—hang him up by the heels—when enough, let his brother cut him down—get both into a stew—pepper the real murderer—grill the innocent for a short time—then take them off, and put delinquents in their place (these can scarcely be broiled too much, and a strong fire is particularly recommended). When real perpetrators are done, all is complete.
If the parties have been poor, serve up with mint sauce, and the name of the enriched sufferer.
BIOGRAPHY OF KINGS.
Lay in a large stock of “gammon” and pennyroyal—carefully strip and pare all the tainted parts away, when this can be done without destroying the whole—wrap it up in printed paper, containing all possible virtues—baste with flattery, stuff with adulation, garnish with fictitious attributes, and a strong infusion of sycophancy.
Serve up to prepared courtiers, who have been previously well seasoned with long-received pensions or sinecures.
DRAMATIC RECIPES.
FOR THE ADELPHI.—VERY FINE!
Take a beautiful and highly-accomplished young female, imbued with every virtue, but slightly addicted to bigamy! Let her stew through the first act as the bride of a condemned convict—then season with a benevolent but very ignorant lover—add a marriage. Stir up with a gentleman in dusty boots and large whiskers. Dredge in a meeting, and baste with the knowledge of the dusty boot proprietor being her husband. Let this steam for some time; during which, prepare, as a covering, a pair of pistols—carefully insert the bullet in the head of him of the dusty boots. Dessert—general offering of LADIES’ FINGERS! Serve up with red fire and tableaux.
FOR MESSRS. MACREADY AND CHARLES KEAN.
Take an enormous hero—work him up with improbabilities—dress him in spangles and a long train—disguise his head as much as possible, as the great beauty of this dish is to avoid any resemblance to the “tete de veau au naturel.”
[Illustration: A TETE A TETE.]
Grill him for three acts. When well worked up, add a murder or large dose of innocence (according to the palate of the guests)—Season, with a strong infusion of claqueurs and box orders. Serve up with twelve-sheet posters, and imaginary Shaksperian announcements.
N.B. Be careful, in cooking the heroes, not to turn their backs to the front range—should you do so the dish will be spoiled.
FOR THE ROYAL VIC.
(A Domestic Sketch.)