By that time Gargantua’s great head was nodding, and before the cards were shuffled again, he was stretched out on the floor fast asleep. About five o’clock he rubbed his great eyes open, and calling his friends, dashed out, mounted his horse and rode away to see a rabbit-catching just outside of Paris.
By supper-time, Gargantua had forgotten entirely about his Latin, his new tutor, and the reason why he had been sent to Paris. His mind was on the good supper and all the games they could play before midnight. His great fork flew from plate to mouth, and back again from mouth to plate. And between gulps he roared out his favorite song, while all his friends beat time on the table with their knives:
“One, two, three, four!
Much to eat and maybe more:
Five, six, seven, eight!
Polish platter, polish plate:—”
Just an instant Gargantua paused for breath, when suddenly a new voice, brisk and decisive, took up the refrain:
“Nine, ten!—Finish then!
Now for knowledge, gentlemen.”
Gargantua stopped, mouth agape, with a whole pudding poised on his fork. That was a new ending to the song, and there just inside the opened door, stood the singer,—Master Ponocrates!