p-knot of a peewit, and then, seizing the horrible animal by that
part of its body which was furthest from its head, and thereby raising
it into the air, pulled an ugly, acidulous face, shook his head,
constrained himself to a desperate resolution, opened his mouth, shut
his eyes, and in an instant the mouse had disappeared.

The gipsy could not speak, but one of his hands involuntarily clutched
his throat, for it is no joke to swallow a four-legged animal at a gulp;
but his other hand he extended towards the Nabob, gasping with something
like a sob--

"The hundred florins!"

"What hundred florins?" inquired the humorous gentleman. "I said I'd
give you a hundred florins? Nonsense, sir. You should thank me for
providing you with such a rare dish which your grandfather never ate,
I'll be bound to say, and would have paid for the chance of it."

It was a screaming joke, no doubt; yet suddenly the merriment ceased,
for the gipsy all at once began to turn blue and green, his eyes
threatened to start out of his head, he sank down on his chair unable to
speak, but pointed convulsively to his distended mouth.

"Look, look, he's choking!" cried several voices.

The Nabob was terribly alarmed. The joke had taken a decidedly serious
turn.

"Pour wine into his throat to wash it down," he exclaimed.

The heydukes speedily caught up the flasks, and began to fill up the
gipsy's throat with half a bottle at a time to assist the downward
progress of the worthy mouse. After a long time the poor fellow began
to breathe hard, and seemed to recover slightly; but his eyes rolled
wildly, and he was gabbling something unintelligible.

"Well, take your hundred florins," said the frightened Nabob, who could
scarcely contain himself for terror, and wished to comfort and
compensate the gipsy on his return from Charon's ferry-boat.

"Thank you," sobbed the latter, "but there's no need of it now. It is
all up with Vidra; Vidra is dying. If only it had been a wolf that had
killed poor Vidra; but a mouse--oh, oh!"

"Don't be a fool, man! You'll take no harm from it. Look! here's another
hundred. Don't take on so; it has quite gone now! Hit him on the back,
some one, can't you? Bring the venison on now, and make him swallow some
of it!"

The jester thanked them for the thump on the back, and when they set the
venison before him, he regarded it with the doubtful, ambiguous
expression of a spoiled child, who does not know whether to laugh o