uantities, and should these not be all that are really necessary, I
trust that the taste of these gentlemen is not sufficiently refined to
discover the deficiency."

At these words the dwarf danced with joy, blessed the day on which he
had purchased the goose, and set about making this queen of pies. He
first made a trial in miniature, and lo! the flavour was exquisite, and
the master-cook, to whom he gave the small pie to taste, praised once
more his great skill.

The following day he prepared the pie on a larger scale, and, after
having garnished it with flowers, sent it hot as it came from the oven
to table. After which he dressed in his best and went to the
dining-hall. On entering, he found the steward engaged in carving the
pie, and presenting it on silver dishes to the duke and his guest. The
duke swallowed a large piece, turned his eyes upward, saying "ha! ha!
ha! justly is this called the queen of pies; but my dwarf is also a
king of cooks. Is it not so, my friend?"

His guest took a small morsel, tasted it carefully, and smiled somewhat
scornfully and mysteriously.

"The thing is made pretty well," replied he, pushing his plate away,
"but it is not quite the Souzeraine, as I well imagined."

At this the duke frowned with indignation, and turned red, saying, "You
hound of a dwarf, how dare you do this to your lord? I will have your
big head cut off as a punishment for your bad cooking."

"Ah, my lord," said the dwarf trembling, "for Heaven's sake have
compassion on me; I have made that dish, indeed, according to the
proper receipt, and am sure that nothing is wanting."

"'Tis a lie, you knave," replied the duke, giving him a kick, "'tis a
lie; else my guest would not say there was something wanting. I will
have you yourself cut up and baked in a pie."

"Have compassion on me!" exclaimed the dwarf, shuffling on his knees up
to the prince, and clasping his feet; "tell me what is wanting to this
pie and why it does not suit your palate: let me not die for a handful
of meat or flour."

"This will not avail you, my good Nose," replied the prince, laughing;
"even yesterday I thought you would not be able to make this dish as
well as my cook. Know there is wanting a herb called
Sneeze-with-pleasure, which is not even known in this country. Without
it this pie is insipid, and your master will never eat it in such
perfection as I do."

At this the duke flew into a rage, and cried with flashing eyes: