dish of the place made up for it. It is composed of _poussins_--that
is, very baby chickens--raw oysters, and cream and truffles. You get a
hot bit of chicken into your mouth and think it is all right, and then
your tongue comes against an iced oyster, and the mixture is so
exciting you are stimulated all the time; and you drink a very fine old
Burgundy with it, which is also a feature of the place. I am sure it
ought to poison us, as oysters aren't in for another month, but it is
awfully good.

[Sidenote: _Chevaux au Galop_]

One of the strange officers is so amusing; he looks exactly like the
young man the Marquise de Vermandoise was walking in the Bois with, but
it could not be he, as she seemed so surprised to see him at the
_Foire_, and said they had not met for ages. The Comte sat on my other
side; he said I would be greatly amused at the booths presently, and
was I afraid of _Montagnes Russes_? That is only an ordinary
switchback, Mamma, so of course I am not afraid. There were Tziganes
playing while we dined, and it was all more amusing than anything I
have done here yet. When we had drunk our coffee we started down the
_Foire_. There were hundreds of people of every class, but not one
drunk or rude or horrid.

The first entertainment was the _Chevaux au Galop_, a delightful
merry-go-round with the most fiery prancing horses, three abreast, and
all jumping at different moments. The Marquis helped me up, and Jean
got on the other side; we all rode except the Comtesse and the old
Baron. It was _too_ lovely; you are bounced up and down, and you have
to hold on so tight, and every one screams, and the band plays; and I
wish you could do it, Mamma. I am sure the thorough shaking would