mansion, the frescoed ceilings, the chandeliers hung with pearls, the great blue vases, the dragon's smiles, the galleries of glass through which walked his mother and sisters; but most of all, he thought of his noble ancestors.
"What would Your Excellency be pleased to converse about?" he inquired after a few minutes, during which the Wild Man had been engaged in silent contemplation of the Gentle Boy's chubby cheeks.
"About good things to eat," promptly replied the Wild Man.
"Very well," politely replied the Gentle Boy. "There are a great many," he dreamily observed, staring into space.
"Tell me about some of the fine dishes in your father's kitchen. It is they who have made you."
The Gentle Boy looked complacently up and down himself.
"I hope in all humility," he said, "that I do honor to my father's cook's dishes."
The Wild Man laughed so boisterously that the trees rocked.
"There is iced seaweed jelly, for one thing," began the Gentle Boy, "and a ragout of water lilies, pork and chicken dumplings with bamboo shoots, bird's-nest soup and boiled almonds, ducks' eggs one hundred years old, garnished
