on, was changing the season of the year;
already the grain, painted with gold, had gathered warmth from the room,
and was slowly melting; already the grasses were growing yellow and the
leaves were turning crimson and were falling; you might have said that an
autumn wind was blowing; finally those trees, gorgeous an instant before,
now stood naked, as if they had been stripped by the winds and the frost;
they were sticks of cinnamon, or twigs of laurel that counterfeited pines,
being clad in caraway seeds instead of needles.

The guests, as they drank their wine, began to tear off the branches,
stumps, and roots, and to chew them as a relish. The Seneschal walked
about the centrepiece, and, full of joy, turned triumphant eyes upon the
guests.

Henryk Dombrowski feigned great amazement, and said:--

"My friend the Seneschal, are these Chinese shadows? Or has Pinety208
given you his demons as servants? Do such centrepieces still exist among
you, here in Lithuania, and do all men feast in this ancient fashion? Tell
me, for I have passed my life abroad."

"No, Your Excellency the General," said the Seneschal with a bow, "these
are no godless arts! This is only a reminder of those famous banquets that
used to be given in the mansions of our ancient magnates, when Poland
enjoyed happiness and power! All that I have done I learned by reading in
this book. You ask me whether this custom has been preserved everywhere in
Lithuania. Alas, new fashions are already creeping in even among us! Many
a young gentleman exclaims that he cannot stand the expense; he eats like
a Jew, grudging his guests food and drink; he is stingy with the Hungarian
wine, and drinks that devilish, adulterated, fashionable Muscovite
champagne; then in the evening he loses as much money at cards as would
suffice for a banquet for a hundred gentlemen and brothers. Even--for what
I have in my heart I will to-day speak out frankly; let not the
Chamberlain take it ill of me--when I was getting that wonderful
centre-*piece from the treasure room, then even the Chamberlain, even he
made fun of me, saying that this was a tiresome, antiquated
contrivance--that it looked like a child's plaything and was unfit for such
famous men as we have with us to-day! Judge!--even you, Judge, said that it
would bore the guests! And yet, so far as I may infer from the amazement
of the company, I see that this is fine art, that it was worthy of being
seen! I doubt whether a like