isted upon the benefits to be derived from the extraction of gelatine
from bones. A great number of equally learned men simply scouted the
idea as preposterous, notably Dr. Gannal, the well-known authority on
embalming. His opposition went so far as to prompt him to submit his
family and himself to the "ordeal," as he called it. At the end of a
week, all of them were reduced to mere skeletons; and then, but then
only, Dr. Gannal sent for his learned colleagues to attest the effects.
The drowning man will proverbially cling to a straw; consequently, some
Parisians took to gelatine, undeterred by the clever lampoons, one of
which I quote:

"L'inventeur de la gelatine,
A la chair preferant les os,
Veut desormais que chacun dine
Avec un jeu of dominos."

They, however, did so with their eyes open, and as a last resource; not
so those who were imposed upon, and induced to part with their money for
cleverly imitated calves' heads, which, as a matter of course, merely
left a gluish substance at the bottom of the saucepan, to the
indignation of anxious housewives and irate cooks, one of whom took her
revenge one day by clapping the saucepan and its contents on the head of
the fraudulent dealer, and, while the latter was in an utterly
defenceless state, triumphantly stalking away with two very respectable
fowls. The shopkeeper had the impudence to seek redress in a court of
law. The judge would not so much as listen to him.

Another curious feature of the siege was the sudden passion developed by
cooks for what I must be permitted to call culinary literature. As a
rule, the French cordon-bleu, and even her less accomplished sisters,
do not go for their recipes to cookery-books; theirs is knowledge gained
from actual experience: but at that period such works as, "Le Livre de
Cuisine de Mademoiselle Marguerite," "La Cuisiniere Pratique," etc.,
were to be found on every kitchen table. The cooks had simply taken to
them in despair, not believing a single word of their contents, but on
the chance of finding a hint that might lend itself to the provisions
placed at their disposal. I refrain from giving their criticisms on the
authors: the forcibleness of their language could only be done justice
to by such masters of realism as M. Zola. I have spoken before now of
the uniform good temper of the Parisians under the most trying
circumstances; I beg to append a rider, excluding cooks, but especially
female ones. "C'est com