This section is from the book "The Steward's Handbook And Guide To Party Catering", by Jessup Whitehead. Also available from Amazon: Larousse Gastronomique.
"The Major-General in charge of the militia here (San Francisco), after reading the interview which a reporter had with the captain of the salvation army, coneluded that he ought to show him some military courtesies, and so invited him to dinner. 'Hallelujah! How d'ye do?'said the visitor on entering a fashionable restaurant, in response to the invitation; and as he looked round and saw nothing but water on the table, he smiled approvingly. 'And you drink water, too, general?' said the Salvationist. 'Most frequently,' was the reply. ' Here's to your health, brother soldier!' And the mundane and spiritual officers pledged each other. The first course was terrapin soup, with about a bottle of good old Madeira in it. It was a new dish to the Salvationist, and he brightened up considerably after the third plateful, and asked all about the habits of terrapin. 'Hallelujah! but it's comforting and warming.' ' Only a very plain repast,' replied the M.-G., as the waiter brought on a roast hare with currant jelly and Burgundy sauce. ' Delicious eating, a hare,' said the cap'ain, 'and magnificent sauce this. We poor soldiers of the church seldom fare like this. Gimme some more sauce.
And what exquisite coffee!' he continued, as he swallowed a cup of black coffee with a glass of cognac in it, and passed it to the waiter to refill it 'so proud to meet a man like you, general, in this city! Such noble example! Going to write to headquarters to-night. Splendid omelette that, too, looks as if it had been on fire.' 'Try a preserved peach,' said the general, helping his guest liberally to some brandied peaches; 'they are very soothiug - and just one more cup of coffee before you go.' 'Hallelujah! general, don't care if I do. Shay, genrul, dontyherfeel shleepy?' And the good man bowed his head on the table, and was dreaming in three minutes that he was leading a crusade in Chicago and had converted 14,000 gamblers. When he woke up he did not feel well, and his host was facing him, blowing a fragrant Havana. 'Accept my carriage home, captain,' he said as he led him into a four-bit coupe and told the driver where to take him. The captain did not preach that night, and he has been wondering ever since whether there was not something queer about that coffee".