erling. The whole establishment was instantly in an uproar; search was
every where made for the precious root, but it was not to be found. Great
was the merchant's distress of mind. The search was renewed, but again
without success. At last some one thought of the sailor.

The unhappy merchant sprang into the street at the bare suggestion. His
alarmed household followed him. The sailor, simple soul! had not thought
of concealment. He was found quietly sitting on a coil of ropes,
masticating the last morsel of his "_onion_". Little did he dream that he
had been eating a breakfast whose cost might have regaled a whole ship's
crew for a twelvemonth; or, as the plundered merchant himself expressed
it, "might have sumptuously feasted the Prince of Orange and the whole
court of the Stadtholder." Anthony caused pearls to be dissolved in wine
to drink the health of Cleopatra; Sir Richard Whittington was as foolishly
magnificent in an entertainment to King Henry V.; and Sir Thomas Gresham
drank a diamond dissolved in wine to the health of Queen Elizabeth, when
she opened the Royal Exchange; but the breakfast of this roguish Dutchman
was as splendid as either. He had an advantage, too, over his wasteful
predecessors: _their_ gems did not improve the taste or the wholesomeness
of _their_ wine, while _his_ tulip was quite delicious with his red
herring. The most unfortunate part of the business for him was, that he
remained in prison for some months on a charge of felony preferred against
him by the merchant.

Another story is told of an English traveller, which is scarcely less
ludicrous. This gentleman, an amateur botanist, happened to see a
tulip-root lying in the conservatory of a wealthy Dutchman. Being ignorant
of its quality, he took out his penknife, and peeled off its coats, with
the view of making experiments upon it. When it was by this means reduced
to half its size, he cut it into two equal sections, making all the time
many learned remarks on the singular appearances of the unknown bulb.
Suddenly, the owner pounced upon him, and, with fury in his eyes, asked
him if he knew what he had been doing? "Peeling a most extraordinary
onion," replied the philosopher. "_Hundert tausend duyvel!_" said the
Duchman; "it's an _Admiral Van der Eyck_." "Thank you," replied the
traveller, taking out his note-book to make a memorandum of the same; "are
these admirals common in your country?" "Death and the devil!" said the
Dutchman, se