Alfred de Rosann — page 110: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ALFRED DE ROSANN. ** Let him come in, then,” cried the uncle. The visiter was accordingly desired to enter ; and Mr. Clayton instantly recognised Champignon, “the _ best cook in Europe.” 1Ot “Pray be seated, and acquaint me with your business,” said Mr. Clayton, rather sharply; for the larder yet teemed with patés de foie gras and cer- velas sans ail.* “I hope my presence is no intrusion,” said Cham- pignon, seating himself on the edge of a chair, and drawing from his coat-pocket a large roll of papers, which he laid upon the table: “ but I recollected that M. De Rosann appeared to be somewhat acquainted with you,” he continued, addressing Mr. Clayton, “if _ one might judge from the way you walked together, as close as two pigeons in a pie, or a couple of capons on a spit—”’ “Well, what then?”? cried Mr. Clayton, impatient- ly, while Eloise was ready to die of curiosity to know what the gastronomer could want with De Rosann. “TI recollected your apparent intimacy together,” proceeded Champignon; “and having occasion to write to M. De Rosann, I have ventured to trouble you for his address.’’ ‘“And what the devil have you to say to M. De Rosann?”’ inquired Mr. Clayton, surveying the com- ical countenance of the gastronomer with. a severe glance, which so terrified the unfortunate wretch that he made a bound upon his chair, and missing the edge fell heavily on the floor. This circumstance restored Mr. Clayton to his usual good humour ; and he said something consolatory to poor Champignon to give him courage, while Eloise offered him a glass of liqueur, which he accepted with many thanks, de- claring that it was almost as good as his own, and that he would send up a bottle the moment he returned home. “You asked me what I had to say to M. De Ro- 8 Bologna sausages without garlic. g* (C©) 0)(0)(0) S (E@)