With this they came to call us to Supper, and I followed my Guide into a Parlour richly furnished; but where I found nothing fit to be eaten. No Victuals appearing, when I was ready to die of Hunger, made me ask him where the Cloath was laid: But I could not hear what he answered, for at that instant Three or Four young Boys, Children of the House, drew near, and with much Civility stript me to the Shirt. This new Ceremony so astonished me, that I durst not so much as ask my Pretty _Valets de Chamber_ the cause of it; and I cannot tell how my Guide, who asked me what I would begin with, could draw from me these two Words, _A Potage_; but hardly had I pronounced them, when I smelt the odour of the most agreeable Soop that ever steamed in the rich Gluttons Nose: I was about to rise from my place, that I might trace that delicious Scent to its source, but my Carrier hindered me: "Whither are you going," said he, "we shall fetch a walk by and by; but now it is time to Eat, make an end of your _Potage_, and then we'll have something else:" "And where the Devil is the _Potage_?" answered I half angry: "Have you laid a wager you'll jeer me all this Day?" "I thought," replied he, "that at the Town we came from, you had seen your Master or some Bo[dy] else at meal, and that's the reason I told you not, how People feed in this Country. Seeing then you are still ignorant, you must know, that here they live on Steams. The art of Cookery is to shut up in great Vessels, made on purpose, the Exhalations that proceed from the Meat whilst it is a dressing; and when they have provided enough of several sorts and several tastes, according to the Appetite of those they treat; they open one Vessel where that Steam is kept, and after that another; and so on till the Company be satisfied.