er heard
from him, such as 'a gogo, frustratoire, rater, dorloter'. Who taught you
these words?"

"The good company in Paris, and women particularly."

We made some punch, and amused ourselves in eating oysters after the
voluptuous fashion of lovers. We sucked them in, one by one, after
placing them on the other's tongue. Voluptuous reader, try it, and tell
me whether it is not the nectar of the gods!

At last, joking was over, and I reminded her that we had to think of more
substantial pleasures. "Wait here," she said, "I am going to change my
dress. I shall be back in one minute." Left alone, and not knowing what
to do, I looked in the drawers of her writing-table. I did not touch the
letters, but finding a box full of certain preservative sheaths against
the fatal and dreaded plumpness, I emptied it, and I placed in it the
following lines instead of the stolen goods:

'Enfants de L'Amitie, ministres de la Peur, Je suis l'Amour, tremblez,
respectez le voleur! Et toi, femme de Dieu, ne crains pas d'etre mere;
Car si to le deviens, Dieu seal sera le pere. S'iL est dit cependant que
tu veux le barren, Parle; je suis tout pret, je me ferai chatrer.'

My mistress soon returned, dressed like a nymph. A gown of Indian muslin,
embroidered with gold lilies, spewed to admiration the outline of her
voluptuous form, and her fine lace-cap was worthy of a queen. I threw
myself at her feet, entreating her not to delay my happiness any longer.

"Control your ardour a few moments," she said, "here is the altar, and in
a few minutes the victim will be in your arms."

"You will see," she added, going to her writing-table, "how far the
delicacy and the kind attention of my friend can extend."

She took the box and opened it, but instead of the pretty sheaths that
she expected to see, she found my poetry. After reading it aloud, she
called me a thief, and smothering me with kisses she entreated me to give
her back what I had stolen, but I pretended not to understand. She then
read the lines again, considered for one moment, and under pretence of
getting a better pen, she left the room, saying,

"I am going to pay you in your own coin."

She came back after a few minutes and wrote the following six lines:

'Sans rien oter au plaisir amoureux, L'objet de ton larcin sert a combier
nos voeux. A l'abri du danger, mon ame satisfaite Savoure en surete
parfaite; Et si tu veux jauer avec securite, Rends-moi mon doux ami, ces
dons de l'