In addition to the opportunities which presented themselves to me to exercise my slight of hand at the Hotel, which might be compared to a sea open to all sorts of fishermen, I had my master’s private house, which, though indeed but a small river, in which it was not likely to take fish of any considerable size, yet afforded me one day tolerable good sport. My master regaled some of his friends, all good bottle-companions and fond of good cheer like himself, with a collation one afternoon, treating them with andouilles and hams, which caused them to drink three times as much as usual. During this entertainment I was at the Hotel, and when I had finished my work, returned home to see if I was wanted. The visitors were already gone, and I found the parlour intolerably hot and full of dust, the cloth still on the table, and the floor strewed with empty bottles, most of them broken. My master, whom I did not see, but whom I heard plain enough, was snoring on his bed so loud as to make the whole house ring with the noise; and my mistress, who was about as sober as her husband, lay by him sleeping as sound as a top. I contemplated for some moments the remains of this debauch, when I happened to cast my eyes on a silver goblet which stood on the table, and resolved to steal it. I was certain that nobody had seen me come in, and I could leave the house again equally unobserved. This reflection was sufficient to determine me: “with your leave, Mr. Goblet,” whispered I, putting it into my pocket, “you shall pay me for these broken bottles;” then closing the door softly after me, I placed my booty in a safe place, and returned to the Hotel as though nothing had happened. Towards evening my master came into the kitchen, somewhat recovered of his debauch, but in so peevish a humor, that he complained of the merest trifles, and immediately began to quarrel with me for having a faggot too much on the fire. I made no answer, but accompanied him home after supper, where he immediately went to bed. As to his wife, she had so comfortable a nap, that she was now as composed as usual, except that she appeared dull and vexed about something. I enquired the cause with as much effrontery as if I had been entirely ignorant of it. She informed me that she could not find the goblet, telling me, at the same time, that it was not the value of the thing that she regretted, but the passion that her husband would be in when he missed it, from whom she should never hear the last of it.