"Joseph," said the dear old man, "bring us a bottle or two of the yellow seal--_you_ know--Bin F." The servitor drew near to his master, and in a stage whisper exclaimed: "You can't afford it, sir!" "What's that?" roared the indignant old man. "You can't afford it, sir--Hawthornden's won th' Leger!" "Good Gad!" A pause--and then, "Well, never mind, Joseph, we'll have up the yellow seal, all the same." One of the writer's last Christmas dinners was partaken of in a sweet little house in Mayfair; and affords somewhat of a contrast with the meal quoted above. We took our appetites away with a salad composed of anchovies, capers, truffles, and other things, a Russian sardine or two, and rolls and butter. Thence, we drifted into _Bouillabaisse_ (a tasty but bile-provoking broth), toyed with some _filets de sôle à la Parisienne_ (good but greasy), and disposed of a _tournedos_, with a nice fat oyster atop, apiece (_et parlez-moi d'ça!_). Then came some dickey-birds _sur canapé_--alleged to be snipe, but destitute of flavour, save that of the tin they had been spoiled in, and of the "canopy." An alien cook can _not_ cook game, whatever choice confections he may turn out--at least that is the experience of the writer. We had _cressons_, of course, with the birds; though how water-cress can possibly assimilate with the flesh of a snipe is questionable. "Water-creases" are all very well at tea in the arbour, but don't go smoothly with any sort of fowl; and to put such rank stuff into a salad--as my hostess's cook did--is absolutely criminal. To continue the Mayfair banquet, the salad was followed by a _soufflée à la Noel_ (which reminded some of the more imaginative of our party of the festive season), some cheese straws, and the customary ices, coffee, and liqueurs. On the whole, not a bad meal; but what would old Father Christmas have said thereto? What would my revered progenitor have remarked, had he been allowed to revisit the glimpses of the moon? He did not love our lively neighbours; and, upon the only occasion on which he was inveigled across the Channel, took especial care to recross it the very next day, lest, through circumstances not under his own control, he might come to be "buried amongst these d----d French!" The following _menu_ may give some idea as to how _Royalty_ entertains its guests. Said _menu_, as will be seen, is comparatively simple, and many of the dishes are French only in name:--