The magician promised him still further favors in prospect; and told
him to look out now, for he was about to throw all the company into a
temporary fit of madness, which, no doubt, would be very amusing.

In consequence, all the company, who had heard every syllable of the
conversation, began to perform the most extraordinary antics, much to
the delight of Poinsinet. One asked a nonsensical question, and the
other delivered an answer not at all to the purpose. If a man asked for
a drink, they poured him out a pepper-box or a napkin: they took a pinch
of snuff, and swore it was excellent wine; and vowed that the bread was
the most delicious mutton ever tasted. The little man was delighted.

"Ah!" said he, "these fellows are prettily punished for their rascally
backbiting of me!"

"Gentlemen," said the host, "I shall now give you some celebrated
champagne," and he poured out to each a glass of water.

"Good heavens!" said one, spitting it out, with the most horrible
grimace, "where did you get this detestable claret?"

"Ah, faugh!" said a second, "I never tasted such vile corked burgundy in
all my days!" and he threw the glass of water into Poinsinet's face, as
did half a dozen of the other guests, drenching the poor wretch to the
skin. To complete this pleasant illusion, two of the guests fell
to boxing across Poinsinet, who received a number of the blows, and
received them with the patience of a fakir, feeling himself more
flattered by the precious privilege of beholding this scene invisible,
than hurt by the blows and buffets which the mad company bestowed upon
him.

The fame of this adventure spread quickly over Paris, and all the world
longed to have at their houses the representation of Poinsinet the
Invisible. The servants and the whole company used to be put up to the
trick; and Poinsinet, who believed in his invisibility as much as he did
in his existence, went about with his friend and protector the magician.
People, of course, never pretended to see him, and would very often
not talk of him at all for some time, but hold sober conversation about
anything else in the world. When dinner was served, of course there was
no cover laid for Poinsinet, who carried about a little stool, on
which he sat by the side of the magician, and always ate off his plate.
Everybody was astonished at the magician's appetite and at the quantity
of wine he drank; as for little Poinsinet, he never once suspected any
trick, and