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The Dwarf Nosey
by
“I am not inexperienced in these matters. My father gave my sisters and myself instructions in the art, as far as he thought best; your account of the quarrel you had with the old woman over the market baskets, your sudden transformation while inhaling the steam of that vegetable soup, taken in connection with some expressions of the old woman that you told me of, prove conclusively to me that you are bewitched by herbs; that is to say, if you can find the plant that the old woman used in your transformation, you can be restored to your former shape.”
This announcement was not very consoling to the dwarf, for where was he to find the plant? Still, he thanked the goose, and strove to be hopeful.
About this time the duke received a visit from a neighboring prince who was on friendly terms with him. He sent for the dwarf, and said to him: “Now is the time when you will have to prove your devotion to me, and your mastery of the art of cooking. The prince who visits me is accustomed to the very best, as you know, and is an excellent judge of fine cooking as well as a wise man. See to it, therefore, that my table is provided daily with such dishes as will cause his wonder to increase from day to day. And, on the penalty of my displeasure, you must not make the same dish twice, during his stay here. My treasurer will supply you with all the money you may want for this purpose. And even though you be forced to cook gold and diamonds in lard, do it! I would rather be ruined than put to the blush before him.”
Thus spake the duke; and the dwarf replied with a low obeisance: “It shall be as you say, my master; God willing, I will so provide that this prince of epicures shall be satisfied.”
The little cook put forth all his skill. He spared neither his master’s money nor himself. And he might be seen the livelong day in the midst of clouds of smoke and flame, while his voice sounded constantly through the kitchen, as he ordered the under-cooks and scullions about like a prince. (Sire, I might imitate the camel-drivers of Aleppo, who, in relating their stories to the travellers, make their heroes sit down to the most sumptuous banquets. They will use a whole hour in their description of the food with which the table is supplied, and thereby create such ardent longings and uncontrollable hunger in their hearers that the caravans are constantly halting for a meal, and the camel-drivers come in for a full share of the provisions so involuntarily opened. I say I might imitate them, but I will not.)
The duke’s guest had now been fourteen days with him, and had been well entertained. They ate not less than five times a day, and the duke was contented with the skill of his dwarf, for he saw satisfaction on the brow of his guest. But on the fifteenth day, it happened that the duke sent for the dwarf while they sat at table, and presented him to his guest, with the inquiry how the dwarf’s cooking had pleased him.
“You are a marvelous cook,” replied the prince, “and know what constitutes good cheer. In all the time I have been here, you have not given us the same dish twice, and every thing has been well prepared. But tell me why it is you have let so long a time pass without producing the queen of dishes, the Pastry Souzeraine?”
The dwarf was all of a tremble, for he had never heard of this queen of pastries; but still he recovered himself, and replied: “O Sire! I had hoped that the light of your countenance would be shed on this palace for many days yet; therefore I delayed this dish; for what could be a more appropriate compliment from the cook on the day of your departure, than the queen of the pastries?”