I showed them afterwards, casts of old statuary, some pictures, which are not without merit, my guns, my musical instruments, and several fine editions of the French and foreign classics.

They did not forget the kitchen in their voyage of discovery.  I showed them my economical furnace, my turnspit by clock-work, my roasting apparatus, and my vaporiser.  They were much surprised, as every thing in their house was done in the style of the regency.

Just as we were about to enter the room, the clock struck two.  “Peste!” said the Doctor, “the dinner time and Jeannette awaits us; we must go, not because I wish to eat, but I must have my bowl of soup like Titus diem PERDIDI.”  “My dear Doctor,” said I, “why go so far? what is here?  Send some to my cousin and remain here, if you will, and accept my apology for a somewhat hasty dinner and you will delight me.”

There was an ocular consultation on the matter between the two brothers, and I at once sent a messenger to the Faubourg St. Germain.  I also told my cook what I wished.  After a time, in part with his own resources and from the neighboring restaurants, he served us up a very comfortable little dinner.

It was a great gratification to me, to see the sang Froid and quiet nerve with which my kinsmen sat down, unfolded their napkins and began.  They met with two surprises which I did not anticipate; I gave them parmesan with soup, and a glass of dry Madeira.  These two novelties had just been introduced by M. De Tallyrand, the first of our diplomatists, to whom we are indebted for so many shrewd expressive words, and whom public attention has always followed with marked interest even when he had retired.

Dinner passed very comfortably, and as far as the substantiate and the accessories were concerned, my friends were as agreeable as they were merry.

After dinner, I proposed a game of piquet, which they refused, preferring, as the Captain said, il far NIENTE of the Italians, and we sat around the fireplace.

In spite of the pleasures of the far NIENTE, I have often thought that nothing enlivens conversation more than any occupation which distracts but does not absorb all coversation.

Tea was a novelty to the French at that time.  They however took it; I made it in their presence, and they took it with greater pleasure, because, hitherto they had only looked on it as a remedy.

Long observation had informed me, that one piece of complaisance ever brings on another, and that after one step there is no choice but to continue in the same route.

“You will kill me,” said the Doctor.  “You will make me drunk,” said the Captain.  I made no reply, but rang for rum, sugar, and lemons.  I made some punch, and while I was preparing some, excellent well buttered toast was also prepared.

My cousins protested that they could not eat a morsel more; but, as I was familliar with the attraction of this simple preparation, I insisted, and the Captain having taken the first slice, I had no hesitation in ordering more.