hness's Minister to know
whether he would give me service in the Duchy; I thought of purchasing
an estate there. I was given to understand that I should get a
chamberlain's key and some post of honor did I choose to remain, and
I even wrote home to my brother Tom in England, hinting a change in my
condition.

At this juncture the town of Hamburg sent his Highness the Grand Duke
(apropos of a commercial union which was pending between the two States)
a singular present: no less than a certain number of barrels of oysters,
which are considered extreme luxuries in Germany, especially in the
inland parts of the country, where they are almost unknown.

In honor of the oysters and the new commercial treaty (which arrived
in fourgons despatched for the purpose), his Highness announced a grand
supper and ball, and invited all the quality of all the principalities
round about. It was a splendid affair: the grand saloon brilliant with
hundreds of uniforms and brilliant toilettes--not the least beautiful
among them, I need not say, was Ottilia.

At midnight the supper-rooms were thrown open and we formed into little
parties of six, each having a table, nobly served with plate, a lackey
in attendance, and a gratifying ice-pail or two of champagne to egayer
the supper. It was no small cost to serve five hundred people on silver,
and the repast was certainly a princely and magnificent one.

I had, of course, arranged with Mademoiselle de Schlippenschlopp.
Captains Frumpel and Fridelberger of the Duke's Guard, Mesdames de
Butterbrod and Bopp, formed our little party.

The first course, of course, consisted of THE OYSTERS. Ottilia's eyes
gleamed with double brilliancy as the lackey opened them. There were
nine apiece for us--how well I recollect the number!

I never was much of an oyster-eater, nor can I relish them in
naturalibus as some do, but require a quantity of sauces, lemons,
cayenne peppers, bread and butter, and so forth, to render them
palatable.

By the time I had made my preparations, Ottilia, the Captains, and the
two ladies, had wellnigh finished theirs. Indeed Ottilia had gobbled up
all hers, and there were only my nine in the dish.

I took one--IT WAS BAD. The scent of it was enough,--they were all bad.
Ottilia had eaten nine bad oysters.

I put down the horrid shell. Her eyes glistened more and more; she could
not take them off the tray.

"Dear Herr George," she said, "WILL YOU GIVE ME YOUR OYSTERS?"

**