"Oh, my God, doctor," suddenly exclaimed the canon, expanding his wide nostrils over and over again, "what is that appetising odour I scent there?" "That is the exhibition of the industry pursued by my nephew Michel, my lord canon; these things are just out of the oven; see what a golden brown they have, how dainty they are!" And Doctor Gasterini pointed out to the canon, the most marvellous specimens of pastry and bakery that one could possibly imagine: immense pies of game, of fish and of fowl, delicious morsels of baked shell-fish, fruit pies, little tarts with preserves and creams of all sorts, smoking cakes of every description, meringues with pineapple jelly, burnt almonds and sugared nuts, nougats mounted in shape of rocks, supporting temples of sugar candy, graceful ships of candy, whose top of fine spun sugar, resembling filigree work of silver, disclosed a dish of vanilla cakes, floating in rose-coloured cream whipped as light as foam. The list of wonderful dainties would be too long to enumerate, and Canon Dom Diégo stood before them in mute admiration. "The dinner hour approaches, and I must go to my stoves, to give the finishing touch to certain dishes, which my pupils have begun," said Doctor Gasterini to his guest. "But to prove to you the importance of this appetising branch of industry, I will limit myself to a single question." And addressing his nephew Michel, he said: "My boy, tell the gentleman how much the stock of pastry you exhibit in the street of La Paix has cost." "You ought to know, uncle," replied Michel, smiling affectionately at Doctor Gasterini, "for you advanced the money necessary for the expenditure." "My faith, boy, you have reimbursed me long ago, and I have forgotten the figures. Let us see. It was--" "Two hundred thousand francs, uncle. And I have done an excellent business. Besides, the house is good, because my predecessor made there twenty thousand a year income in ten years." "Twenty thousand income!" cried Dom Diégo in astonishment, "twenty thousand!" "Now you see, my lord canon, how capital is created by eating hot pies and plum cake with pistachios. But would you like to see something really grand? For this time we are discussing an industry which affects not only the interests of almost all the counties of France, but which extends over a great part of Europe and the East,--that is to say, Germany, Italy, Greece, Spain, and Portugal. An industry which puts in circulation an enormous amount of capital, which occupies entire populations, whose finest products sometimes reach a fabulous price,--an industry, in short, which is to gluttony what the soul is to the body, what mind is to matter. Wait, Dom Diégo, look and reverence, for here the youngest are already very old." Immediately, through instinct, the canon took off his hat, and reverently bowed his head. "I present to you my nephew Theodore, commissary of fine French and foreign wines," said the doctor to the canon.