March 14, 1857

14 March 1857


Let the world fly off its axle any hour in the twenty-four, save the breakfast hour. Ruffle me not then, and I promise to out-Socrates Socrates, though it should rain tribulations all the rest of the day. If I am to have one glimpse of sunshine until nightfall, let it be then. A plague on him or her who sits down to coffee (all hail coffee!) with a doleful phiz. The witches fly away with that female who presents herself in curl-papers, or introduces herself with a yawn. Unassoiled be that grocer, who offends my proboscis with a doubtful egg; garroted be that dairy-man who waters my milk; kneaded be that fat podge of a baker who is tardy with his hot rolls.

Tell me no disagreeables—be not argumentative over our Mocha; discourse not of horrid murders, not yet dabble in the Black Sea of politics. Tell me not the price of any article I am eating, neither inquire of me prematurely, what I will have for my dinner. Let thy "Good morning." have heart in it, and touch thy lips to my eye-lids as thou passest to thy seat. If thou hast a clover-blossom, or a babe, set it before me; and dream not, because my heart's incense rises silently as its perfumed breath, that I praise not God for the sweet morning.

Source Text:

Fanny Fern, "Breakfast," The New-York Ledger (14 March 1857): [4]

To cite this project:

Fanny Fern, "Breakfast," Fanny Fern in The New York Ledger, Ed. Kevin McMullen (2018)