"What an odious custom!" whispered the little Dutch Minister, smacking
his lips, however, with an air of tolerable content.

"Why," said I, prudently, "all countries have their customs. Some
centuries ago, a French traveller thought it horrible in us Englishmen
to eat raw oysters. But the English were in the right to eat oysters;
and perhaps, by and by, so much does civilization increase, we shall
think the Russians in the right to drink brandy. But really [we had now
sat down to the entertainment], I am agreeably surprised here. All the
guests are dressed like my own countrymen; a great decorum reigns
around. If it were a little less cold, I might fancy myself in London
or in Paris."

"Wait," quoth the little Dutchman, with his mouth full of jelly broth,
"wait till you hear them talk. What think you, now, that lady next me
is saying?"

"I cannot guess: but she has the prettiest smile in the world; and there
is something at once so kind and so respectful in her manner that I
should say she was either asking some great favour, or returning thanks
for one."

"Right," cried the little Minister, "I will interpret for you. She is
saying to that old gentleman, 'Sir, I am extremely grateful--and may
Saint Nicholas bless you for it--for your very great kindness in having,
the day before yesterday, at your sumptuous entertainment, made me so
deliciously--drunk!'"

"You are witty, Monsieur," said I, smiling. "/Se non e vero e ben