"The _Trois Frères_" said Müller, with the air of one who deliberates on the fate of nations, "has the disadvantage of being situated in the Palais Royal, where the band still continues to play at half-past five every afternoon. Now, music should come on with the sweets and the champagne. It is not appropriate with soup or fish, and it distracts one's attention if injudiciously administered with the made dishes," "True. Then shall we try the _Moulin Rouge_?" Müller shook his head. "At the _Moulin Rouge_" said he, gravely, "one can breakfast well; but their dinners are stereotyped. For the last ten years they have not added a new dish to their _carte_; and the discovery of a new dish, says Brillat Savarin, is of more importance to the human race than the discovery of a new planet. No--I should not vote for the _Moulin Rouge_." "Well, then, Véfours, Véry's, the Café Anglais?" "Véfours is traditional; the Café Anglais is infested with English; and at Véry's, which is otherwise a meritorious establishment, one's digestion is disturbed by the sight of omnivorous provincials, who drink champagne with the _rôti_, and eat melon at dessert." Dalrymple laughed outright. "At this rate," said he, "we shall get no dinner at all! What is to become of us, if neither Véry's, nor the _Trois Frères_, nor the _Moulin Rouge_, nor the _Maison Dorée_...." "_Halte-là!"_ interrupted the student, theatrically; "for by my halidom, sirs, I said not a syllable in disparagement of the house yelept Dorée! Is it not there that we eat of the crab of Bordeaux, succulent and roseate? Is it not there that we drink of Veuve Cliquot the costly, and of that Johannisberger, to which all other hocks are vinegar and water? Never let it be said that Franz Müller, being of sound mind and body, did less than justice to the reputation of the _Maison Dorée_." "To the _Maison Dorée_, then," said Dalrymple, "with what speed and appetite we may! By Jove! Herr Franz, you are a _connoisseur_ in the matter of dining." "A man who for twenty-nine days out of every thirty pays his sixty-five centimes for two dishes at a student's Restaurant in the Quartier Latin, knows better than most people where to go for a good dinner when he has the chance," said Müller, philosophically. "The ragoûts of the Temple--the _arlequins_ of the _Cité_--the fried fish of the Odéon arcades--the unknown hashes of the _guingettes_, and the 'funeral baked meats' of the Palais Royal, are all familiar to my pocket and my palate. I do not scruple to confess that in cases of desperate emergency, I have even availed myself of the advantages of _Le hasard_." "_Le hasard_." said I. "What is that?"