ed in time: there may be a wreath of immortelles on the
figure to give it a more decidedly Frenchified air. The walls will be of
a dark rich paper, hung round with neat gilt frames, containing plans
of menus of various great dinners, those of Cambaceres, Napoleon,
Louis XIV., Louis XVIII., Heliogabalus if you like, each signed by the
respective cook.

After the stranger has looked about him at these things, which he does
not understand in the least, especially the truffles, which look like
dirty potatoes, you will make your appearance, dressed in a dark dress,
with one handsome enormous gold chain, and one large diamond ring; a
gold snuff-box, of course, which you will thrust into the visitor's paw
before saying a word. You will be yourself a portly grave man, with
your hair a little bald and gray. In fact, in this, as in all other
professions, you had best try to look as like Canning as you can.

When Pogson has done sneezing with the snuff, you will say to him,
"Take a fauteuil. I have the honor of addressing Sir Benjamin Pogson, I
believe?" And then you will explain to him your system.

This, of course, must vary with every person you address. But let us
lay down a few of the heads of a plan which may be useful, or may
be modified infinitely, or may be cast aside altogether, just as
circumstances dictate. After all I am not going to turn gastronomic
agent, and speak only for the benefit perhaps of the very person who is
reading this:--

"SYNOPSIS OF THE GASTRONOMIC AGENCY OF THE HONORABLE GEORGE GOBBLETON.

"The Gastronomic Agent having traversed Europe, and dined with the best
society of the world, has been led naturally, as a patriot, to turn
his thoughts homeward, and cannot but deplore the lamentable ignorance
regarding gastronomy displayed in a country for which Nature has done
almost everything.

"But it is ever singularly thus. Inherent ignorance belongs to man; and
The Agent, in his Continental travels, has always remarked, that the
countries most fertile in themselves were invariably worse tilled than
those more barren. The Italians and the Spaniards leave their fields to
Nature, as we leave our vegetables, fish, and meat. And, heavens! what
richness do we fling away, what dormant qualities in our dishes do
we disregard,--what glorious gastronomic crops (if the Agent may
be permitted the expression)--what glorious gastronomic crops do we
sacrifice, allowing our goodly meats and fishes to lie fallow! 'C