"A Court mantle," said the beggar, "does not appear to me very commodious for housework." And the young traveller could not refrain from laughing at this reflection. One of the lackeys having taken up a candelabrum, conducted the strangers through the vast apartments of the palace. They reached the dining-room. "Do you wish to sup, gentlemen?" "By all means," said the beggar; "there is nothing but a good meal which is not a vanity." He seated himself at table. But he had hardly tasted any of the dishes set before him, than he found them so fanciful, so salted, peppered, sugared, truffled, and mixed, that he would not partake of one of them; impossible to recognise the meat of a single animal, so highly was it seasoned. "What is this?" asked the old man--"rabbit?" "No, monsieur--they are lamb cutlets." "And this: lentil soup?" "No, monsieur; hare soup." It was a confusion, past all understanding. And yet more: everything served was cold, for the hot-water plates were all of malachite, and nobody dare pour hot water into them. "Faith," said the beggar, "I'd rather have an omelette on a pewter platter," and he handed to a servant in waiting his gilded plate. The servant in bowing to take it took no heed of the candles burning on the table, and forgot all about the plumes which adorned his head. They approached too near the flame, and a strong odour of burnt feathers announced that the plume was grilling. "A white _panaché_ does not appear to me to be convenient for waiting at table," said the beggar again; and again the young stranger could not refrain from laughing at this reflection. "The queen of this mansion, the Princess Vanita, is not here at present, is she?" asked the beggar. "No, monsieur," replied one of the lackeys; "she is, at this moment, with her favourite adorers, in a country the name of which I forget, but which is highly renowned for its wines." [Illustration: "SHE PULLED THEM BOTH DOWN UPON THEIR NOSES."] "Ah! I guess she is in France," said the beggar: "she will not soon be back." Perched on a rich rod, a handsome paroquet was screeching at some distance from the table: "Fly quickly! fly quickly! Don't stop in this palace!" Alméric went over to her. "Why should we fly?" he asked: "are you not happy here?" "Alas!--look at me," replied the paroquet; "I wished to be beautiful: I desired claws of gold, ruby wings; and now I am condemned to rest here all my life, motionless, as you see; for it is impossible to fly with wings made of rubies or to walk with feet made of gold." Near the window they observed a large cat. It did not stir from where it lay, and appeared to be very discontented. "What is the matter with you, puss?" inquired Alméric. "Excuse me," replied the cat, "is it a horse, a serpent, a donkey, a man, or a woman to whom I have the honour of speaking? I can't see; pray excuse me." "You are blind?" said Alméric, compassionately.