eposing among the ice in large silver pitchers, flasks of carved
Venetian crystal with long necks seemed to promise something seductive.

The Nabob himself lay down on the camp bedstead prepared for him, his
heydukes drew the large spurred boots from his feet, one of the peasant
girls sat by his head stroking continually his sparse grey hairs, while
the other sat at the end of the bed rubbing his feet with bits of
flannel. Gyarfas, the poet, and Vidra, the jester, stood before him; a
little further off the heydukes; the greyhound was under the bed. And
thus, surrounded by gipsy, heydukes, jester, peasant-girls, and
greyhound, lay one of the wealthiest magnates of Hungary!

Meanwhile, the mouse was a-roasting. The innkeeper himself brought it
lying in the middle of a large silver dish, surrounded by a heap of
horseradish shavings, and with a bit of green parsley in its mouth, the
usual appurtenances of a very different animal.

Down it was placed in the middle of the table.

First of all, the Nabob offered it to the heydukes one by one. They did
not fancy it, and only shook their heads.

Then it came to the poet's turn.

"Pardon, gratia, your Excellency! I am composing verses on him who eats
it."

"Well, you then, Vidra! Come, down with it, quick!"

"I, your Excellency?" said Vidra, as if he did not quite catch the
words.

"Yes, you. What are you afraid of? While you were living in tents, one
of my oxen went mad, and yet you and your people ate him!"

"True; and if one of your lordship's hogsheads of wine went mad I would
drink it. That's another thing."

"Come, come, make haste! Do the dish honour!"

"But my grandfather had no quarrel with this animal."

"Then rise superior to your grandpapa!"

"I'll rise superior to him for a hundred florins," said the gipsy,
scratching his curly poll.

The Nabob opened the pocket of his dolman, and drew forth a large greasy
pocket-book, which he half opened, displaying a number of nice
blood-coloured banknotes.

The gipsy squinted with half an eye at the well-crammed pocket-book, and
repeated once more--

"For a hundred florins I don't mind doing it!"

"Let us see then!"

The gipsy thereupon unbuttoned the frock-coat which it was his master's
whim he should wear, contracted his rotund, foolish face into a squarish
shape, twitched the mobile skin of his head up and down once or twice,
whereby the whole forest of his hair moved backwards and forwards like
the to