Washington Telegraph

THREE MINUTES BY THE WATCH
Blunders by Irish waiters, of the most curious and laughable character, are as common as bricks; but the most laughable one we have heard of since the waiter scooped out the inside of the watermelon and served up the beautiful green rind in a little dish, occurred at one of our principal hotels a few days since to a very particular English "gent" with a very short tailed coat, a large number of plaids on his pants, a considerable amount of drab cloth gaiters, a remarkably small cane and particularly yellow gloves. He had just arrived from the great commercial emporium of Great Britain and Ireland, via New York, and a number of other small towns and villages. He approached the breakfast table, prepared to make a decided impression upon the American public, and give them a pretty fair idea of an English gentleman in full dress, and after selecting the most desirable situation possible for the accomplishment of his purpose, beckoned a waiter to him and stuck his eyeglass in his eye—not the waiter's eye, but his own individual organ. After surveying him for a moment addressed him with—“Are there any English waiters here?”
“I wish, sir?” inquired the waiter.
“English waiters, don't you hear me?”
“Oh yes, sir; Of course, I do. Plenty of them, sir. What 'ud you plaze to take to breakfast, sir!”
“You're not an English waiter, sir!” replied the “gent.”
“Oh yes, sir; I don't speak devil a word besides English exceptin' Irish; but I'm a loyal subject of Queen Victoria.”
“Well then, if I can't get an English servant to wait on me, I must take an Irish one.”
“Yes, sir.” said the loyal subject of her Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria.
“Well then, get me a couple of eggs and boil them precisely three minutes—got a bubble more, and a cup of coffee—beef steak, very rare, and some toast.”
“Yes, sir,” said the waiter and started off.
“And recollect, three minutes for the eggs,” said the gent calling him back.
“Yes, sir,” said the waiter.
The gent adjusted himself to the best advantage, and awaited the arrival of the eggs. On cracking the shells they were as hard as a pudding, and with the utmost indignation he pounced upon the waiter and inquired of him if he had “not directed him to cook them just three minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the waiter—I did, sir. I counted 'em myself.”
“But! didn't you look at the clock!”
exclaimed the gent, with as much surprise as if he had just heard that Louis Philippe had suggested the propriety of divorcing Albert from Victoria, and marrying her to one of his own sons,
“Devil a one sir,” said the Irishman—
“devil a one to look at! What'ad I be after lookin' at the clock for all the time?”
“Oh, this is too much, positively!” said the gent. “Here you stupid fellow, take my watch and go into the kitchen, and boil me a couple of eggs just three minutes with it.”
“Yes, sir,” said the waiter taking the watch,
“Do you understand now, sir?” inquired the gent.
“Of course, sir,” was the reply and off he started.
At the expiration of the three minutes appeared the waiter with the breakfast, and on the plate with the eggs the watch was deposited. As the gent was about to take up the watch the waiter stopped him by exclaiming—“Take care, sir; you'll burn your fingers—it's hot, sir”
“It's hot?” inquired the gent.
“The watch, sir!”
“The watch!” echoed the gent.
“Yes sir sure didn't you tell me to bile the case with it three minutes, and didn't I do it?”
“What!” said the horror stricken gent, starting up—“he boiled the watch!”
“Yes, sir—three minutes”
The gent, like the watch, was completely done, and seizing his gold lever, he made a speedy exit, uttering curses loud and deep, and tossing his watch from hand to hand, as a boy does a hot potato to cool it.
Reporter.