THE COOKERY OF THE TROUT 257 



with contemptuous civility, sent down to the kitchen, 

 and we have more than a suspicion that they never 

 reappeared. The fact is that in these lands of pisca- 

 torial abundance, the hosts swear by their viviers, and 

 we rather think they are right. The vivier ' is an 

 artificial tank or a great wooden chest moored in the 

 stream by heavy stones. The sides of the chest are 

 pierced with holes, and the water flows freely through. 

 It is regularly supplied by anglers or poachers in the 

 pay of the establishment. The fresh-caught trout are 

 brought in from the neighbouring waters in barrels 

 with a convex side fitting to the shoulders. In these 

 viviers the prisoners are fed or gorged with chopped 

 livers and other kitchen refuse. It is the stuffing of an 

 Alsatian goose without the pain or the liver disease, for 

 the fish in tip-top condition seem always voraciously 

 on the feed. When they are wanted for table, the 

 cook takes a survey and makes his selection. It is 

 said that the practice was bequeathed by the monks, 

 and if so, the gastronomist is indebted to them for 

 the legacy. Pleasant recollections we have of meals 

 and merry picnics at the hotel at the Eaux Chaudes, 

 where, looking down on the pool in the Gave de Gabas 

 from the balcony of the sa//e-ti~manger, you saw your 

 dinner, as the Scotch say, in superb vitality. Yet 

 those anchored viviers had their mishaps like our 



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