h was a delicate dish prepared
in the Turkish manner. This consisted of a reasonable quantity of
mustard, salt, cinnamon and ginger, nutmegs and cloves, with a couple
of tablespoonfuls of cayenne pepper, to give the whole a flavor; and
Poinsinet's countenance may be imagined when he introduced into his
mouth a quantity of this exquisite compound.

"The best of the joke was," says the author who records so many of the
pitiless tricks practised upon poor Poinsinet, "that the little man used
to laugh at them afterwards himself with perfect good humor; and lived
in the daily hope that, from being the sufferer, he should become
the agent in these hoaxes, and do to others as he had been done by."
Passing, therefore, one day, on the Pont Neuf, with a friend, who had
been one of the greatest performers, the latter said to him, "Poinsinet,
my good fellow, thou hast suffered enough, and thy sufferings have made
thee so wise and cunning, that thou art worthy of entering among the
initiated, and hoaxing in thy turn." Poinsinet was charmed; he asked
when he should be initiated, and how? It was told him that a moment
would suffice, and that the ceremony might be performed on the spot. At
this news, and according to order, Poinsinet flung himself straightway
on his knees in the kennel; and the other, drawing his sword, solemnly
initiated him into the sacred order of jokers. From that day the little
man believed himself received into the society; and to this having
brought him, let us bid him a respectful adieu.

THE DEVIL'S WAGER.

It was the hour of the night when there be none stirring save churchyard
ghosts--when all doors are closed except the gates of graves, and all
eyes shut but the eyes of wicked men.

When there is no sound on the earth except the ticking of the
grasshopper, or the croaking of obscene frogs in the poole.

And no light except that of the blinking starres, and the wicked and
devilish wills-o'-the-wisp, as they gambol among the marshes, and lead
good men astraye.

When there is nothing moving in heaven except the owle, as he flappeth
along lazily; or the magician, as he rides on his infernal broomsticke,
whistling through the aire like the arrowes of a Yorkshire archere.

It was at this hour (namely, at twelve o'clock of the night,) that two
beings went winging through the black clouds, and holding converse with
each other.

Now the first was Mercurius, the messenger, not of gods (as the heathen