What's a siuisn^o tree ? there's a question ! What's an apricot-tree 1" 



" A tree that bears apricots." 



'• Well ?" 



"Woll!" 



" AVcU ! why, the sausage-tree is a tree that boars sausages." 



" Pouh ! nonsense! Porkbutchers make sausages." 



'• I know very well that porkbutchers make sausages ; porkbutchers make sausages, it 

 is true ; but what sort of sausages ? It is just the same as little Eulalie, who lives near 

 you; she makes flowers; but in stuifs or wools. Are you astonished that because 

 Eulalie makes roses, that rose-bushes should produce them likewise? Eulalie makes 

 artificial flowers." 



"What! do porkbutchers then make artificial sausages?" 



" Exactly so, my good friend ; but the sausages of the porkbutchers are like the 

 roses of Eulalie to nature, what the false is to the true. If you had ever eaten the 

 fruit of the sausage-tree, you would never allow your teeth to touch the gross imitation 

 that you have hitherto eaten." 



" Ah ! but, now tell me, are there really any sausage-trees ?" 



At this mark of wavering incredulity the friends only deigned to reply by 

 shrugging up their shoulders, and continued to talk among themselves about the sau- 

 sage-tree, without appearing to be willing to admit incredulity any longer into their con- 

 versation. 



" Is it the garlick variety which is in the king's garden?" asked one. 



" Yes," replied the other. 



" Ah, that's the most rare of all." 



" But the tree had very little fruit on it this year. You are aware that the sausage- 

 tree originally comes from a hot climate ; and the winters here try it severely ; part of 

 the blossoms were destroyed by the late frosts." 



" It is a pity we cannot get one, to convince our sceptical friend here." 



"I could easily get one, because I am intimate with the head gardener; but I don't 

 think it worth the trouble to convince him ; I hate these upstart minds, that are so dis- 

 dainful of the beliefs of the vulgar ; who aim at producing an effect by giving faith to 

 nothing ; who appear to take men for simpletons, amongst whom they form a brilliant 

 and solitary exception." 



" But," says our hero, " I ask nothing better than to believe when I am convinced 

 by proofs." 



"Proofs! Havel not already told you that shirts were sown and reaped? Do you 

 not know that cotton grows upon a cotton-tree, and that sugar is the produce of a reed ? 

 Perhaps you don't believe that." 



" I ask your pardon ; yes, I do." 



"I will be bound you doubt that hemp is the seed of ropes, or that snuff is the seed of 

 the ideas which we sow in our brain through the nose. Or perhaps you do not believe 

 that peaches grow upon peach-trees ; you prefer believing, no doubt, that porkbutchers 

 make peaches ?" 



" No, I don't say that." 



"Neither do you believe, I suppose, that rose-bushes produce roses; you think that all 

 roses are made by Mademoiselle Eulalie, do you not ?" 

 Not at all. I know very well — " 

 " Y"ou really know nothing at all. Do you know that gunpowder is the seed of 

 death ? Do you know that apples come from trees ? But you say you will believe 



