I remember, however, one of those drinkers of “reddened water,” who used to maintain that a few drops of wine almost infinitely diluted gave the taste of the grape-juice far more delicately and exquisitely than the unalloyed grape-juice itself. The reader may try the experiment, if he likes. Let him take a glass of water, and just redden it with claret. If he fails to appreciate the exquisite taste of the beverage, it will, at least, inflict no injury on his constitution. Unless, indeed, as the old bacchanalians affirmed, water brings on the dropsy; for what saith the good Maistre Jean Le Houx, the gentle singer who immortalised the _Vau de Vire_? “_On m’a deffendu l’eau, au moins en beuuerie De peur que je ne tombe en une hydropisie Je me perds si j’en boy En l’eau n’y a saueur. Prendray je pour breuuage Ce qui n’a poinct de goust? Mon voisin qui est sage Ne le faict, que je croy._” [Sidenote: French total Abstainers between Meals.] In France there is a large class of total abstainers _between meals_. These observe rigorously the rule of never drinking except at meal-times. They have a set phrase by which they are known, their shibboleth. This phrase is “_Je ne bois jamais rien entre mes repas_.” They are not teetotallers, as they drink at _déjeuner_ and dinner, but between these periods they observe a strict abstinence, like the Mahometans in the Ramadan fast between the rising and the setting of the sun. They pretend that they are never thirsty, but I do not believe them; it is merely the pride of their sect. [Sidenote: French Gormandism.] [Sidenote: The Solace of dull Lives.] [Sidenote: France the Land of good Living.] [Sidenote: Importance of the _menu_.]