Food Is All Those Substances Which, Submitted

At The Table Of A Gentleman Living In The Chausee D'antin Was Served Up An Arles Sausage Of Enormous Size. "will You Accept A Slice?" The Host Asked A Lady Who Was Sitting Next To Him; "you See It Has Come From The Right Factory."it Is Really Very Large," Said The Lady, Casting On It A Roguish Glance; "what A Pity It Is Unlike Anything."

The Spanish Ladies Of The New World Are Madly Addicted To Chocolate, To Such A Point That, Not Content To Drink It Several Times Each Day, They Even Have It Served To Them In Church.

The Senses Are The Organs By Which Man Places Himself In Connexion With Exterior Objects.

Those Who Have Been Too Long At Their Labor, Who Have Drunk Too Long At The Cup Of Voluptuousness, Who Feel They Have Become Temporarily Inhumane, Who Are Tormented By Their Families, Who Find Life Sad And Love Ephemeral......they Should All Eat Chocolate And They Will Be Comforted.

I Will Only Observe, That That Ethereal Sense - Sight, And Touch, Which Is At The Other Extremity Of The Scale, Have From Time Acquired A Very Remarkable Additional Power.