THE COOKERY OF THE RABBIT 229 



of the rabbit. For Mr. Petulengro and his other 

 gypsy pals seldom take their strolls abroad without 

 snares in their pockets : and where they bivouac the 

 buries are laid under contribution. They have no 

 objection to the pheasant or the fowl, but the rabbit 

 in their menus ranks rather above the hare, and, in 

 fact, comes only second to the hedgehog. 



The rabbit followed the Saracen — or preceded 

 him — into Sicily and Southern Italy ; for we have 

 seen that he was imported as a foreign delicacy in 

 the time of the old Romans. We can sympathise 

 the more cordially with Borrow at Pegoens, that we 

 remember a famous stew unexpectedly served to us at 

 Calatafimi, when the Sicilian muleteer had gone on 

 an unsuccessful foray, and came back with nothing 

 but sausages and black bread. Fleas and mosquitos 

 were busy that night, but, thanks to that supper, after 

 the weary ride, sleep set them at defiance. We have 

 seldom seen the rabbit in Naples. He was a luxury 

 beyond the reach of the Lazzaroni, who live through 

 the summer chiefly on water-melons, and in winter 

 on the untempting circular pizze, apparently less 

 nutritious than stale ship-biscuit. But he figures 

 ostentatiously in the Roman markets, which are even 

 more interesting to the naturalist and the student of 

 national tastes than to the gourmet. The descendants 



