Dejeuner

"Dejeuner" in a Sentence (16 examples)

On a sudden, it seemed that a thousand bugles broke the blue air, and they were summoned to a dejeuner in four crimson tents, worthy of Sardanapalus.

After going round the garden we returned to the house, where we found a dejeuner set out in the drawing-room, consisting of caviare, cheese, &c., and, of course, liqueurs.

Then at 9:30 we had dejeuner, which means a regular dinner.

After the service the wedding party drove to Government House Cottage, the residence of the bride’s parents, where the dejeuner was served, and in the afternoon the happy pair left for Melbourne for their honeymoon, the bride travelling in a dress of navy blue serge with jacket to match, and a blue hat ornamented with “Guards-red” birds.

Arrived at Monte Carlo we had dejeuner at Hotel des Londres, and at once went through the gardens, to the Casino grounds.

Next morning we started to a small place called a La Cluse, where we had dejeuner, and soon after took front seats on the Diligence that was to rattle along the pass to Chamonix.

WEDDING Dejeuners, Ball Suppers, Banquets, Coming of Age, or other celebrations estimated for.

He wants the frankness (now) of manner which alone could carry a man in his position through an hour’s dejeunering with squab citymen who had no notion of what it would be proper to say to him.

As during my stay at Phalsburg I have been dejeunering and dining with the German commandant and officers, the contrast between their mode of thought and that of my French friends is very striking.

“Got up—washed—breakfasted—dejeunered—dined—smoked—went to bed.”

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No epicures were enlisted in the party which dd^([sic]) homage tonight to Tour d’Argent duck, only plain Americans, who swore by plain beefsteaks and never met in Paris without questioning one another in an illiterate and scoffing way, “Have you dejeunered?” to show their contempt for the customs of the country.

“Here, waiter,” cried the Johnnie who had dejeunered daringly at 12, “take this bill to the manager and tell him it’s an imposition. Why, you’ve charged more for one poached egg on toast than for an entire portion of those eggs that you scramble.”

So many times has J. F. Sartori, the wide-awake president of the Security National Bank, knocked about Europe, bracing himself of a foggy morning on London sole and bacon, dejeunering in elegant Paris, sipping small blacks in Vienna, and dining amid the tapers of Rome or Venice, that I saw, as a matter of fact, the origin of the Security’s artistic clock. the most striking architectural adornment on Spring street: […]

Still holding your arm, and rejecting with wild gesticulations your suggestion that a cab might–er–drop you somewhere near the Batignolles, he would hurry you across that thoroughfare, where the chauffeurs are more murderous than they are here, and by uphill streets whose names you never, never could remember, land you panting in the little porch of the Cafe de l’Athene, where you found that wild Irishman P. J. waiting. Here you dejeunered, and listened chiefly to P.J. telling Victor just how much Verlaine was over-rated.

He offhandedly invited the stodgy Germans to drop into breakfast with Premier Herriot and himself, to talk over matters, a sort of thing the Germans do not understand—breakfasting or dejeunering, we mean.

I dejeunered at 12. Then rest and sleep (much needed).

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