does such a thing again, not a one of us
will have a word to say in his behalf." But for my part, I was
mercilessly angry and could not help leaning over towards Agamemnon and
whispering in his ear, "It is easily seen that this fellow is criminally
careless, is it not? How could anyone forget to draw a hog? If he had
served me a fish in that fashion I wouldn't overlook it, by Hercules, I
wouldn't." But that was not Trimalchio's way: his face relaxed into good
humor and he said, "Since your memory's so short, you can gut him right
here before our eyes!" The cook put on his tunic, snatched up a carving
knife, with a trembling hand, and slashed the hog's belly in several
places. Sausages and meat-puddings, widening the apertures, by their
own weight, immediately tumbled out.

CHAPTER THE FIFTIETH.

The whole household burst into unanimous applause at this; "Hurrah for
Gaius," they shouted. As for the cook, he was given a drink and a silver
crown and a cup on a salver of Corinthian bronze. Seeing that Agamemnon
was eyeing the platter closely, Trimalchio remarked, "I'm the only one
that can show the real Corinthian!" I thought that, in his usual
purse-proud manner, he was going to boast that his bronzes were all
imported from Corinth, but he did even better by saying, "Wouldn't you
like to know how it is that I'm the only one that can show the real
Corinthian? Well, it's because the bronze worker I patronize is named
Corinthus, and what's Corinthian unless it's what a Corinthus makes?
And, so you won't think I'm a blockhead, I'm going to show you that I'm
well acquainted with how Corinthian first came into the world. When Troy
was taken, Hannibal, who was a very foxy fellow and a great rascal into
the bargain, piled all the gold and silver and bronze statues in one pile
and set 'em afire, melting these different metals into one: then the
metal workers took their pick and made bowls and dessert dishes and
statuettes as well. That's how Corinthian was born; neither one nor the
other, but an amalgam of all. But I prefer glass, if you don't mind my
saying so; it don't stink, and if it didn't break, I'd rather have it
than gold, but it's cheap and common now."

CHAPTER THE FIFTY-FIRST.

"But there was an artisan, once upon a time, who made a glass vial that
couldn't be broken. On that account he was admitted to Caesar with his
gift; then he dashed it upon the floor, when Caesar handed it back to
him.