' The _maitre de
chambre_--M'sieu' Jean he is clever--scooped the third cupful from the
bottom of the pail, and very politely, with a big bow, handed it to the
Visitor; who took it, touched it to his lips, turned perfectly green, and
cried out 'Impossible!' M'sieu' Jean, we all thought--the Directeur and
the Surveillant and the _maitre de chambre_ and myself--that he was going
to vomit. He leaned against the wall a moment, quite green; then
recovering said faintly--'The Kitchen.' The Directeur looked very nervous
and shouted, trembling all over, 'Yes, indeed! We'll see the cook about
this perfectly impossible coffee. I had no idea that my men were getting
such coffee. It's abominable! That's what it is, an outrage!'--And they
all tottered downstairs to The Cook; and M'sieu Jean, they searched the
kitchen; and what do you think? They found ten pounds of coffee and
twelve pounds of sugar all neatly hidden away, that The Cook had been
saving for himself out of our allowance. He's a beast, the Cook!"
I must say that, although the morning coffee improved enormously for as
much as a week, it descended afterwards to its original level of
excellence.
The Cook, I may add, officiated three times a week at a little table to
the left as you entered the dining-room.
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