"Aha!" said the host, "it seems that our friends are satisfied; I was sure that that rabbit stew would restore their good humor. So much the better! the result will be that the fowl will pass the more readily. We must make haste and serve it with the salad. Goton, give me the bottle of oil. That's it. Have you put the eggs on yet? on the top of the salad? Good! that's very good. This meal will bring us in enough to last a week."
Our man returned to the dining-room, where they had made up their minds to laugh instead of dining. He placed the fowl on the table and stood silent, with the air of a man who expects a compliment.
"On my word, monsieur le traiteur," said Edouard, trying to keep a sober face, "you treat us very strangely! What kind of a thing is a fricassée of cup-and-ball?"
"That we never had such a thing before, Monsieur Bonneau, and that we don't like it."
Master Bonneau was thunderstruck when he saw the cup-and-ball covered with gravy.
"Here," said Adeline, "take away your rabbit stew; what we found in it has taken away all desire to taste it."
"Madame, I am really distressed at what I see! But you must realize that it is not my fault. If rabbits eat cups-and-balls----"
"Ah! this is too much; and if your fowl is no better than the rest, we shall have to go elsewhere to dine."
The host left the room, without waiting to hear any more; he rushed back to the kitchen, crimson with rage, and began to pull Fanfan's ears, to teach him to put cups-and-balls in his stews.
"What on earth is the matter, my dear?" Madame Bonneau asked her husband, as she brought him the plate containing the remedy for burns.
"What's the matter? What's the matter? This little scamp is forever doing foolish things! He stuffs all sorts of trash into my stews; the other day I found two corks in a chowder; luckily it was for drunkards who took them for mushrooms; but to-day we have some people who are very particular, and he is responsible for their not tasting my rabbit stew; and that too, just at the moment when I carried them that unlucky fowl! The little scamp is as dirty as if he were employed in some low cook-shop! Wife, scrape your burn carefully, you still have some potato on it. Well! I must repair my reputation with the soufflé."