ed?" laughed the duke, "and were you waiting for the day of my
death, before you should compliment me in the same manner? For you have
never placed this pastry before me. But think of some other parting
dish: for you must set this pastry on the table to-morrow."

"It shall be as you say, master!" answered the dwarf, as he went out.
But he was very much disturbed in mind, for he knew that the day of his
disgrace and misfortune was at hand. He had not the slightest idea how
to make the pastry. He therefore went to his chamber and wept over his
hard fate. Just then the goose, Mimi, who had the run of his chamber,
came up to him and inquired the cause of his sorrow. "Cease to weep,"
said she, on learning of the incident of the pastry. "This _entree_ was
a favorite dish of my father's, and I know about how it is made. You
take this and that, so and so much, and if there should happen to be
any little thing left out, why, the gentlemen will never notice it."
The dwarf, on hearing Mimi's recipe, jumped for joy, blessed the day on
which he had bought the goose, and ran off to make the queen of the
pastries. He first made a small one by way of experiment, and lo, it
tasted finely, and the master of the kitchen, to whom he gave a morsel,
heartily praised his skill. On the following day, he baked the pastry
in a larger form, and after decorating it with a wreath of flowers,
sent it, hot from the oven, to the duke's table. He then donned
his best suit of clothes, and followed after it. As he entered the
dining-room, the head carver was in the act of cutting the pastry and
serving it up to the duke and his guest, with a silver pie-knife. The
duke took a large mouthful of the pastry, cast his eyes up at the
ceiling, and said as soon as he had swallowed it: "Ah! ah! ah! They are
right in calling this the queen of the pastries; but my dwarf is also
king of all cooks--isn't that so, dear friend?"

The prince helped himself to a small piece, tasted and examined it
attentively, and then, with a scornful smile, pushed the plate away
from him, exclaiming: "The thing is very cleverly made, but still it
isn't the genuine Souzeraine. I thought it would turn out that way."

The duke scowled, and reddening with mortification, cried: "Dog of a
dwarf! How dare you bring this disgrace on your master? Shall I have
your big head taken off as a penalty for your bad cookery?"

"Alas, master, I prepared the dish in accordance with all the rules of
ar