will find it particularly fine."

At this instant three sturdy waiters had just succeeded in depositing
safely upon the table an enormous dish, or trencher, containing what
I supposed to be the "monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen
ademptum." A closer scrutiny assured me, however, that it was only a
small calf roasted whole, and set upon its knees, with an apple in
its mouth, as is the English fashion of dressing a hare.

"Thank you, no," I replied; "to say the truth, I am not particularly
partial to veal a la St. -- what is it? -- for I do not find that it
altogether agrees with me. I will change my plate, however, and try
some of the rabbit."

There were several side-dishes on the table, containing what appeared
to be the ordinary French rabbit -- a very delicious morceau, which I
can recommend.

"Pierre," cried the host, "change this gentleman's plate, and give
him a side-piece of this rabbit au-chat."

"This what?" said I.

"This rabbit au-chat."

"Why, thank you -- upon second thoughts, no. I will just help myself
to some of the ham."

There is no knowing what one eats, thought I to myself, at the tables
of these people of the province. I will have none of their rabbit