"Have you any chicory?" he said to the man.

"Yes, sir."

"Bring me some."

Soon the proprietor returned with a small can of chicory.

"Is that all you have?" asked Grevy.

"We have a little more."

"Bring me the rest."

When he came again, with another can of chicory, Grevy said:

"You have no more?"

"No, sir."

"Very well. Now go and make me a cup of coffee."

As already told, Louis XV had a great passion for coffee, which he made
himself. Lenormand, the head gardener at Versailles, raised six pounds
of coffee a year which was for the exclusive use of the king. The king's
fondness for coffee and for Mme. Du Barry gave rise to a celebrated
anecdote of Louveciennes which was accepted as true by many serious
writers. It is told in this fashion by Mairobert in a pamphlet
scandalizing Du Barry in 1776:

His Majesty loves to make his own coffee and to forsake the cares
of the government. One day the coffee pot was on the fire and, his
Majesty being occupied with something else, the coffee boiled over.
"Oh France, take care! Your coffee _f---- le camp_!" cried the
beautiful favorite.

Charles Vatel has denied this story.

It is related of Jean Jacques Rousseau that once when he was walking in
the Tuileries he caught the aroma of roasting coffee. Turning to his
companion, Bernardino de Saint-Pierre, he said, "Ah, that is a perfume
in which I delight; when they roast coffee near my house, I hasten to
open the door to take in all the aroma." And such was the passion for
coffee of this philosopher of Geneva that when he died, "he just missed
doing it with a cup of coffee in his hand".

Barthez, confidential physician of Napoleon the first, drank a great
deal of it, freely, calling it "the intellectual drink."

Bonaparte, himself, said: "Strong coffee, and plenty, awakens me. It
gives me a warmth, an unusual force, a pain that is not without
pleasure. I would rather suffer than be senseless."

Edward R. Emerson[356] tells the following story of the Cafe Procope.
One day while M. Saint-Foix was seated at his usual table in this cafe
an officer of the king's body-guard entered, sat down, and ordered a cup
of coffee, with milk and a roll, adding, "It will serve me for a
dinner." At this, Saint-Foix remarked aloud that a cup of coffee, with
milk and a roll, was a confoundedly poor dinner. The officer
remonstrated. Saint-Foix reiterated his remark, adding that nothing he
could say to t