The guest to whom the long beak pointed when the head stopped became the
possessor of all the heads, a feast fit for a king, which made his
neighbors look askance.

He took them one by one and toasted them over the candle. The grease
sputtered, the roasting flesh smoked and the lucky winner ate the head,
holding it by the beak and uttering exclamations of enjoyment.

And at each head the diners, raising their glasses, drank to his health.

When he had finished the last head he was obliged, at the baron's orders,
to tell an anecdote to compensate the disappointed ones.

Here are some of the stories.




THE WILL

I knew that tall young fellow, Rene de Bourneval. He was an agreeable
man, though rather melancholy and seemed prejudiced against everything,
was very skeptical, and he could with a word tear down social hypocrisy.
He would often say:

"There are no honorable men, or, at least, they are only relatively so
when compared with those lower than themselves."

He had two brothers, whom he never saw, the Messieurs de Courcils. I