When this tasted right, he added a tablespoon of flour and let it boil again, and then added a half pint of Madeira and a pint of chicken soup stock. When the mixture had boiled down by half, he added the terrapin meats cut into cubes. The sauce, when it began to bubble, had one lemon wrung over it and an ounce of fresh butter dropped in. Then it was served at once.
Football players have died for dear old Rutgers, busted an arm for Army, and collapsed for ol' Cornell when fed with ogell-muggell.
The sight I remember the best of that dinner is Ogell-muggell (the man, not the little terrapin) standing up at the cries of “Speech! Speech!” and wiping his large mouth with the back of an honest hand. He looked at Mama and smiled.
“I ain't one for making speeches … not me. But I gotta say Mrs. Longstreet sure cooks up a tasty snack. I've et this ogell-muggell before, but it alas tasted of ketchup. This time it's the McCoy, and if anything I can ever do … why you just ask me, that's all!”
Mama smiled and stood up and said, after great effort on her part, “Just go in there tomorrow and win!”
Having sold out, Mama couldn't keep from sticking pins into herself. Everyone cheered, and Silver Dollar fell out of his chair and said he was going to run Mama for Congress (which he never did … a shame, since Mama photographed much softer than Clare Luce.)
Ogell-muggell began to cry, and said, “If it kills me (sniff) I'll do it. I'll win for you … if it kills me (sniff) … I'll murderlize 'em!”
And someone set a fresh bowl of ogell-muggell before him, and he wept and lapped and spooned all at once.
The next day he won the game with a wonderful seventy-two yard run and a drop kick. And next year he played for the college and got married; and when he was made All-American, he had a wife and two children and was a simple, honest fellow. I remember Papa and Mama and me sitting on the front porch watching Ogell-muggell running home from the football field Saturdays … his pay envelope unopened in his teeth and his arms full of liver and oatmeal and beer for the wife and kiddies. And he would wave a loaded arm at us and trot on home. Mama had long sincere tired from reforming sports.
Papa used to take Mama's arm, and Mama would say, “There goes the remains of a pretty good ice man….”
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