If you are unfortunate enough to find anything disgusting in your food--a hair in the soup, a coal in the bread, a worm in the fruit, or a fly in your coffee--do not loudly exclaim, or disturb the appetite of others by mention of your mishap. Remove the disgusting object quietly, or change your cup or plate without remark. The French poet, Delille, tells of an interview between himself and Marmoutel, which rather humorously points out how table etiquette may change. Delille and Marmoutel were dining together, in the month of April, 1786; and the conversation happened to turn upon dinner table customs. Marmoutel observed how many little things a well-bred man was obliged to know, if he would avoid being ridiculous at the table of his friends. "They are, indeed, innumerable," said Delille, "and the most annoying fact of all is, that not all the wit and good sense in the world can help one to divine them untaught. A little while ago, for instance, the Abbe Cosson, who is Professor of Literature at College Mazarin, was describing to me a grand dinner to which he had been invited at Versailles, and to which he had sat down in the company of peers, princes, and marshals of France. "'I'll wager now,' said I,'that you committed a hundred blunders in the etiquette of the table.' "'How so?' replied the Abbe, somewhat nettled. 'What blunders could I make? It seems to me that I did precisely as others did.' "'And I, on the contrary, would stake my life that you did nothing as others did. But let us begin at the beginning, and see which is right. In the first place, there was your table napkin--what did you do with that when you sat down to table?' "'What did I do with my table napkin? Why, I did like the rest of the guests: I shook it out of the folds, spread it before me, and fastened one corner to my button-hole.' "'Very well, _mon cher_, you were the only person who did so. No one shakes, spreads, and fastens a table napkin in that manner. You should have only laid it across your knees. What soup had you?' "'Turtle.' "'And how did you eat it ?' "'Like every one else, I suppose. I took my spoon in one hand and my fork in the other.' "'Your fork? Good heavens! None but a savage eats soup with a fork. But go on. What did you take next?' "'A boiled egg.' "'Good. And what did you do with the shell?' "'Not eat it, certainly. I left it, of course, in the egg-cup.' "'Without breaking it through with your spoon?' "'Without breaking it.' "'Then, my dear fellow, permit me to tell you that no one eats an egg without breaking the shell, and leaving the spoon standing in it. And after your egg?' "'I asked for some _boulli_.' "'For _boulli_!' It is a term that no one uses. You should have asked for beef; never for _bouilli_. Well, and after the _bouilli_?' "'I asked the Abbe de Badenvillais for some fowl.'