A BANQUET IN DESERTO. 
133 
mined jaw. The Prince’s frame, however, is built 
altogether on a larger scale, and his eyes—instead of 
being of a cold piercing blue—are soft and brown, with 
a very gentle expression. 
Though of course a little Barmicidal, the dinner 
went off very well, as every dinner must do where such 
merry companions are the convives. We had some 
difficulty about stowing away the legs of a tall philo¬ 
sopher, and to each knife—three individuals were told 
off; but the birds were not badly cooked, and the 
plum-pudding arrived in time to convert a questionable 
success into an undoubted triumph. 
On rising from table, each one strolled away in 
whatever direction his particular taste suggested. The 
painter to sketch; the geologist to break stones; the 
philosopher to moralise, I presume,—at least, he lighted 
a cigar,—and the rest to superintend the erection of the 
tents which had just arrived. 
In an hour afterwards, sleep—though not altogether 
silence—for loud and strong rose the choral service, 
intoned to Morpheus from every side—reigned supreme 
over the encampment, whose canvas habitations, huddled 
together on the desolate plateau, looked almost Crimean. 
