Here's to the tongue of woman : it never wears out.
" Here's to our wives, who fill our lives
With little bees and honey;
They break life's shocks, they mend our socks,
But don't they spend our money ! "
Toasts 105
" Here's to the prettiest,
Here's to the wittiest,
Here's the truest of all who are true;
Here's to the neatest one,
Here's to the sweetest one,
Here's to them all in one— here's to you ! "
Here's to our wives and sweethearts !
May our sweethearts become our wives,
And our wives ever remain our sweethearts."
KENTUCKY
" Here's to old Kentucky —
The place where I was born —
Where the corn is full of " kernals
And the " Colonels " full of corn."
WOMEN
" Here's to the women — God bless 'em, _ ^
You can't live with 'em and you can't live without em.
DAME FORTUNE
"Here's to Dame Fortune: May you never meet
her daughter — Misfortune."
TO A CHAPERON.
" Here's to the chaperon,
May she learn from Cupid
Just enough blindness
To be sweetly stupid."
— Oliver Hereford.
106 Toasts
A STIRRUP CUP
TO
" MERRYLEGS "
" Here's to one, though ripe in years,
Brought many pleasures, never tears.
His virtues such that were they named,
Men, having less, might feel ashamed.
Steady — tried and trustful, true,
Willing — honest — noble, too.
From 'ole Kentucky's' border line
Where Girls and Horses both are fine.
Here's to him, and when he dies
May he, like Pegasus, arise.
May clover fields above be no
Whit less sweeter than below.
May he stand
Beyond the stars
And greet us from
God's meadow bars.
Here's to Merrylegs, a friend
Whose heart is faithful to the end."
— Isabel S. Mason.
" I fill this cup to one made up
Of loveliness alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex
The seeming paragon —
Her health ! and would on earth there stood
Some more of such a frame,
That life might be all poetry,
And weariness a name."
— Edward Coate Pinkney.
Toasts 107
TO OUR MOTHERS
We have toasted our sweethearts,
Our friends, and our wives ;
We have toasted each other,
Wishing all merry lives.
Don't frown when I tell you
This toast beats all others,
But drink one more toast, boys —
A toast to— Our Mothers ! "
UEC I9 190f
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Page 26
Presented as published in 1907. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
Here's to the tongue of woman : it never wears out.
" Here's to our wives, who fill our lives With little bees and honey; They break life's shocks, they mend our socks, But don't they spend our money ! "
Toasts 105
" Here's to the prettiest, Here's to the wittiest, Here's the truest of all who are true; Here's to the neatest one, Here's to the sweetest one, Here's to them all in one— here's to you ! "
Here's to our wives and sweethearts ! May our sweethearts become our wives, And our wives ever remain our sweethearts."
KENTUCKY
" Here's to old Kentucky — The place where I was born — Where the corn is full of " kernals And the " Colonels " full of corn."
WOMEN
" Here's to the women — God bless 'em, _ ^
You can't live with 'em and you can't live without em.
DAME FORTUNE
"Here's to Dame Fortune: May you never meet her daughter — Misfortune."
TO A CHAPERON.
" Here's to the chaperon, May she learn from Cupid Just enough blindness To be sweetly stupid."
— Oliver Hereford.
106 Toasts
A STIRRUP CUP
TO
" MERRYLEGS "
" Here's to one, though ripe in years,
Brought many pleasures, never tears.
His virtues such that were they named,
Men, having less, might feel ashamed.
Steady — tried and trustful, true,
Willing — honest — noble, too.
From 'ole Kentucky's' border line
Where Girls and Horses both are fine.
Here's to him, and when he dies
May he, like Pegasus, arise.
May clover fields above be no
Whit less sweeter than below.
May he stand
Beyond the stars
And greet us from
God's meadow bars.
Here's to Merrylegs, a friend
Whose heart is faithful to the end."
— Isabel S. Mason.
" I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon —
Her health ! and would on earth there stood Some more of such a frame, That life might be all poetry, And weariness a name."
— Edward Coate Pinkney.
Toasts 107
TO OUR MOTHERS
We have toasted our sweethearts,
Our friends, and our wives ; We have toasted each other,
Wishing all merry lives. Don't frown when I tell you
This toast beats all others, But drink one more toast, boys —
A toast to— Our Mothers ! "
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