FUN WITH CUSTOM-HOUSE OFFICIAL. 257 



" Yes," I replied, laughing ; " of course it is not 

 empty ; but there is nothing you need look at." 



" Yes," he said, applying his nose to the wicker 

 work, while he continued to smile : " there is meat." 

 " No ! " I persisted ; *' not a bit — there are bones." 

 '^ Bones ! oh no ! what use are bones." 

 ^^ Bones, and nothing but bones," I rejoined, un- 

 doing the lid, and exposing the ghastly skulls of wild 

 boars — " bones, as I told you (we were all laughing). 

 And now," I continued, '* since you have given me 

 the trouble of showing them to you, perhaps you'll 

 confess there's nothing left to pick." 



" Oh no, Monsieur, not anything " — civilly laugh- 

 ing, and aiding me to refill the basket: a porter 

 behind me whistling the " Death of the Wild Boar," 

 to let me know he was a sportsman. 



Soon after this I reached my comfortable quarters, 

 which I beg to recommend to all my friends, the 

 Hotel Biron, in the Rue Lafitte. I had been out, and 

 was returning to my hotel, when I passed the Cafe 

 de Paris. Through the superb glass windows I saw 

 dinner going on, well-dressed gardens in attendance, 

 the rooms beautifully lit up, and round the corner 

 came, from the regions below, an exquisite smell of 

 the best French cookery. How can I do better, I 

 said to myself, than dine here ? No sooner said than 



s 



