The Hunting Wasps 



forgotten anything? Yes, we have not men- 

 tioned the crowning side-dish, the onions, to 

 be eaten raw with salt. Our two Parisians 

 — for we have two among us, my fellow-bota- 

 nists — are at first a little startled by this 

 very invigorating bill of fare; soon they will 

 be the first to burst into praises. Are we all 

 ready? Then let us sit down. 



And now begins one of those Homeric 

 repasts which mark red-letter days in one's 

 life. The first mouthfuls are almost 

 frenzied. Slices of mutton and chunks of 

 bread follow one another with alarming 

 rapidity. Each of us, without communicat- 

 ing his apprehensions to the others, casts an 

 anxious glance at the victuals and asks him- 

 self: 



" If this is the way we are going on, shall 

 we have enough for to-night and to-mor- 

 row?" 



However, the craving is allayed; we began 

 by devouring in silence, we now eat and talk. 

 Our apprehensions for the morrow are like- 

 wise relieved; and we give due credit to the 

 man who o-rdered the menu, who foresaw 

 this hunger-fit and who arranged to cope with 

 it worthily. The time has come for us to 

 appreciate the victuals as connoisseurs. One 

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