_A._ I know it, my good friend, much has been said, And many books been written, on the art Of cookery; but tell me something new, Something above the common, nor disturb My brain with what I've heard so oft before. _B._ Peace, and attend, you shall be satisfied— For I have raised myself, by due degrees, To the perfection of the art; nor have I pass'd the last two years, since I have worn The apron, with so little profit, but Have given my mind to study all its parts, T' apply that knowledge to its proper use; So as to mark the different sorts of herbs; By proper seas'ning, to give fish the best And highest relish; and of lentils too, To note the several sorts. But to the point: When I am call'd to serve a funeral supper, The mourners just return'd, silent and sad, Clothed in funereal habits—I but raise The cover of my pot, and every face Assumes a smile, the tears are wash'd away; Charm'd with the grateful flavour, they believe They are invited to a wedding feast—— _A._ What, and give such effect, from a poor dish Of miserable fish, and lentils?—— _B._ Ay; But this the prelude only, not worth noting; Let me but have the necessary means, A kitchen amply stored, and you shall see, That, like enchantment, I will spread around A charm as powerful as the siren's voice; That not a creature shall have power to move Beyond the circle, forcibly detain'd By the delicious odour; and should one Attempt to draw yet nearer, he will stand Fix'd like a statue, with his mouth wide open, Inhaling with each breeze the precious steam, Silent and motionless; till some good friend, In pity to his fate, shall stop his nostrils, And drag him thence by force—— _A._ You are indeed A master of the art—— _B._ You know not yet The worth of him you speak to—look on those Whom you see seated round, not one of them But would his fortune risk to make me his.—ANON. * * * * * DIPHILUS. (Book vii. § 39, p. 458.)