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pineapple, orange peel, lemon juice, pickled peaches, sundry
other fruits and various berries, both fresh and preserved;
and the whipped-up white of an egg, and for a crowning
atrocity a flirt of allspice across that expanse of pallid
meringue. When I could in some degree restrain my weep–
ing, I told hi!Il things. "Brother," I told him, between sobs,
"brother, all this needs is a crust on it and a knife to eat it
with, and it would be a typical example of the supreme
effect in pastry of your native New England housewife's
breakfast table. But, brother," I said, "I didn't come in here
for a pie," I mentioned a julep; and you, my poor erring
brother, you have done
:_~is
to me! Go," I said, "go and sin
no more or, at least, sin as little as possible."
For myself I like best the New Orleans julep and the
Kentucky julep of which latter, however, there are at least
three standard versions. I was present in a New Orleans
club on a historic time when a very prominent Wall Street
banker, who had come down there to celebrate Mardi Gras
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