Aurore, a strong, square-built, rosy-faced,
broad-grinning widow of thirty, was off in a
twinkling.

"What are you whispering there?" asked
Margaret, joining us.

"Madame says, that if you wish to see
sweet-water productions, we must not delay;
else, what you are most curious about will be
gone. Come, it is not a dozen steps, and the
sun and the air are quite pleasant." We
were not long tripping to the market. The
first person we saw was Aurore.

"Ah! Aurore, back again so soon? I 'm
sure your mistress does not want to look into
your basket now. Make haste home, and get
our breakfast ready. Now, Margaret, observe
carefully; this row of ladies have the monopoly
of fresh-water fish. There is plenty of
it, and they bring nothing else; do they,
Madame?"

"These do not; further on is la marée, the
fish from the sea, a great many kinds today.
All our waters are ver-ree pois-sonous, ver-ree
feeshee—tres, tres poissonneuses."

"It is a pity they bring eels not bigger
than worms to market. It is too Chinese.
And 'tis not pleasant to see those hags flaying
them alive, by way of pastime, when they
have no customers to serve. One fine fellow,
there, seems inclined to have a battle with
his flayeress, but she has grasped him inexorably
round the neck. Ladies, have you any
nice frogs this morning?"

"They are sold, Monsieur; all, all sold;"
said the hags in chorus, led off by Aurore's
mamma.

"What a pity!" said Margaret, "I should
so like to have seen the creatures: and yet,
now I think of it, I am glad; because,
perhaps"—

"Perhaps I should have asked Madame
Dubois to buy them? But we will make
sure next market-day, eh, Madame?"

Madame smiled, and turned away her head.
After a moment, she quietly observed that if
we liked eels, she would buy the one with
which the old woman was wrestling like a
fury. We nodded assent, and the bargain
was made. It would be a breach of confidence
to tell how much she paid; but while
we were looking on, the town mattrass-beater
came up, and bought three nice little tench
for eight sous.

"There is more intolerance," said I, "in
eating and drinking, than there is even in
religion; because every religious sect
includes within itself several bigotries of the
mouth, and persecutions of the stomach. Not
a few people condemn all fish, because, say
they, it is nothing but congealed water;
others abominate fresh-water fish alone,
simply, according to Madame, through the
want of knowing how to arrange them; eels
are detested for their serpent-like form, and"—

"Are you above all such prejudices, Sir? I
remember the things you have said about
oatcake and bad pasteboard: that portmanteaus
and human stomachs should not be lined with
the same materials."

"No, I confess it, I am not. For yonder,
on that board, is a heap of offal, sold for food,
which makes me shudder when I look at it.
Observe those dog-fish, uglier than toads;
worse when they are skinned, with a wisp
of straw stuffed into their throats. We only
catch them to throw them on our dunghills.
I do not think I could remain at table
where one was served; and yet they are very
largely consumed here. Manure with us, is
food for the French. Do you like dog-fish,
Madame Dubois? And how do they cook
them before poisoning themselves with such
filth?"

"But, do I like the chiens de mer, the
roussettes? Not much when they are so;"
with a gesture which there was no mistaking.
"They boil them like skate, and you would
not know the difference."

A grimace and a twist of the mouth on my
part.

"I have a large one salted, hung up in our
magazine; and when I can't eat anything for
breakfast, I cut a piece off this, and grill it.
You may smell it all over the house; such
an odeur!"

"Then I hope, Madame, while we are with
you, you'll have the goodness to eat your dog-
fish raw."

Madame said nothing, but started as if she
had suddenly beheld an assassin in the very
act of murder.

"At home, you know," said Margaret, "our
sailors often eat their red-herring uncooked.
I have seen them breakfasting on the jetty, or
in their boats, with a thick slice of bread,
and the raw fish under their thumb.
Everybody likes anchovies; and I myself am
particularly fond of a pickled herring fresh out
of the barrel."

"Properly seasoned, it is excellent," said I.
"But when I was in Germany, if I called for
a plate of ham, they always asked whether I
preferred it cooked, or raw."

"And which did you choose?" inquired
Madame, aghast.

"Oh! sometimes one, and sometimes the
other."

"Monsters! Cannibals!" she hissed
between her teeth. Then recovering herself;
"but Monsieur likes to laugh; civilised
people do not practise such abominations as
those. Are the English and the Germans
nothing but savages, anthropophagi?"

At this moment Margaret became suddenly
alarmed. "Let us get out of the way of those
two quarrelsome men," said she. "The people
are crowding around them, and I fear they'll
soon come to blows."

"Blows! not they. They have no more
intention of fighting than you and I have.
Listen to them, if you can follow their furious
gabble. They're making a bargain; and, for
the fun of the thing, are trying by turns
which can dive lowest into the depths of