. Lucy and Their Majesties, a comedy in wax . r nostrils. Therewere capons of high gravy, saddles of venison,calvered salmon, custards planted with gar-ters, godwits, peafowl, pickled mullets,—ha,ha! those pickled mullets!—porpoise in armor,Georges on horseback, halibut engrailed, her-ons, cygnets, perch in foyle, venison pasties,hippocras jelly, and mainemy royal. By myfay, that was a feast! A train of pages, thefairest in the land, dressed in fantastic habitsof green and pink, waited upon us. There wasone bright wench whose sparkling eyes— Sir! cried Elizabeth, warningly. T is but a memory,
. Lucy and Their Majesties, a comedy in wax . r nostrils. Therewere capons of high gravy, saddles of venison,calvered salmon, custards planted with gar-ters, godwits, peafowl, pickled mullets,—ha,ha! those pickled mullets!—porpoise in armor,Georges on horseback, halibut engrailed, her-ons, cygnets, perch in foyle, venison pasties,hippocras jelly, and mainemy royal. By myfay, that was a feast! A train of pages, thefairest in the land, dressed in fantastic habitsof green and pink, waited upon us. There wasone bright wench whose sparkling eyes— Sir! cried Elizabeth, warningly. T is but a memory, Bess/ said Henry,with a laugh that was half a sigh. Canstcompass such a feast as that, Mistress Peck-ham? The bewildered woman, whose eyes hadgrown larger and larger as the dishes wereenumerated, mournfully shook her head. I dont think it can be managed in thishouse, your royal Majesty/ she s a am in soak, but it wont be readytill evening. Capons, and custards, and jel-lies, perhaps- Dont let it worry you, good Mrs. Peck-. Lydia £. MEW YvM& PUBLIC UBRARI A8TOR, LENOXILDEI^ FOUNDATIONS WONDERS WILL NEVER CEASE 16 — ham, said Mme. Tussaud. His Majestyspeaks of olden times, and I will wager mywhole exhibition that modern cooking beatsthe ancient. It stands to reason, with such anice range as you have there. Give us somebacon and eggs, some buttered toast, and afew pots of jam, and we shall manage verywell. Henry VIII smiled with delight. Baconand eggs! Buttered toast! Pots of jam! Itsounds bravely, Mme. la I could do your Majesty an omelet/ saidMrs. Peckham, taking heart. In the French style, mistress? Yes, your royal Majesty. T is well. Do thy best, and we will notforget thee. Henry knows how to rewardgood service. Reward her now, Henry, said Mme. Tus-saud. You were ever generous. So be it, said Henry. What wilt thouhave, mistress? A title—lands—money?Mrs. Peckhams breath was almost takenaway at these words. Nay, thou shalt havethem all. We cr
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