Delectations

Summer’s Lease ALEC WAUGH

At the Tangier Yacht Club, on Friday which is the Moslem Sunday, they always serve a cous-cous. On the first Thursday in September, as I was leaving the club in the afternoon, I said to the steward, “I’ll be down to lunch tomorrow for the cous-cous?” The steward shook his head. ‘‘No, not tomorrow, sir. It’s not worth the chef’s while any longer, not enough people here.” Ah, I thought, the first sign of fading summer. It gave me an odd quiver. There is a curious fascination about watching the summer die. Win- ter is still a long way off. “The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” has its special charm, a bitter-sweet dis- tillation of short-lived delights, and summer dies in so many different ways in different places. It was, in- deed, to see how it dies in Tangier that I was staying on there into Oc- tober. :

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Alec Waugh

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Summer’s Lease ALEC WAUGH

At the Tangier Yacht Club, on Friday which is the Moslem Sunday, they always serve a cous-cous. On the first Thursday in September, as I was leaving the club in the afternoon, I said to the steward, “I’ll be down to lunch tomorrow for the cous-cous?” The steward shook his head. ‘‘No, not tomorrow, sir. It’s not worth the chef’s while any longer, not enough people here.” Ah, I thought, the first sign of fading summer. It gave me an odd quiver. There is a curious fascination about watching the summer die. Win- ter is still a long way off. “The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” has its special charm, a bitter-sweet dis- tillation of short-lived delights, and summer dies in so many different ways in different places. It was, in- deed, to see how it dies in Tangier that I was staying on there into Oc- tober. :