The majordomo returned with this note, which accompanied another dish:
"Salt marsh rails roasted on toast à la Sardanapalus.
"Eat only the legs and rump of the rails; do not cut the leg, take it by the foot, sprinkle it lightly with salt, then cut it off just above the foot, and chew the flesh and the bone.
"Masticate _largo_ and _fortissimo_; eat at the same time a mouthful of the hot toast, coated over with an unctuous condiment made of the combination of snipe liver and brains and fat livers of Strasburg, roebuck marrow, pounded anchovy, and pungent spices.
"Drink two glasses of Clos Vougeot of 1817.
"Pour out this wine with emotion, drink it with religion."
After this roast, worthy of Lucullus or Trimaleyon, and enjoyed by the canon with all the intensity of unsatisfied hunger, the majordomo reappeared with two side-dishes that the menu announced thus:
"Mushrooms with delicate herbs and the essence of ham; let this divine mushroom soften and dissolve in the mouth.
"Drink a glass of the wine Côte-Rôtie 1829, and a glass of Johannisberg of 1729, drawn from the municipal vats of the burgomasters of Heidelberg.
"No recommendation to make for the advantage of the wine, Côte-Rôtie; it is a proud, imperious wine, it asserts itself. As for the old Johannisberg, one hundred and forty years old, approach it with the veneration which a centenarian inspires; drink it with compunction.
"Morsels à la duchesse with pineapple jelly.
"Drink two or three glasses of champagne dipped in ice, dry Sillery the year of the comet.
"Cheese from Brie made on the farm of Estonville, near Meaux. This house had for forty years the honour of serving the palate of Prince Talleyrand, who pronounced the cheese of Brie the king of cheeses,--the only royalty to which this great diplomatist remained faithful unto death.
"Drink a glass or two of Port wine drawn from a hogshead recovered from the great earthquake of Lisbon.
"Bless Providence for this miraculous salvage, and empty your glass piously.
"N. B. Never fruits in the morning; they chill, burden, and involve the stomach at the expense of the repose of the evening; simply rinse the mouth with a glass of cream from the Barbadoes of Madame Amphoux, 1780, and take a light siesta, dreaming of dinner."