“Bravery in a poor cause, is the height of simplicity, my friend.—Count out your change. It must be French coin, not English, that you are to pay the man with.—Ah, that will do—those three coins will be enough. Put them in a pocket separate from your other cash. Now go, and hasten to the bridge.”
“Shall I stop to take a meal anywhere, Doctor, as I return? I saw several cookshops as I came hither.”
“Cafes and restaurants, they are called here, my honest friend. Tell me, are you the possessor of a liberal fortune?”
“Not very liberal,” said Israel.
“I thought as much. Where little wine is drunk, it is good to dine out occasionally at a friend’s; but where a poor man dines out at his own charge, it is bad policy. Never dine out that way, when you can dine in. Do not stop on the way at all, my honest friend, but come directly back hither, and you shall dine at home, free of cost, with me.”
“Thank you very kindly, Doctor.”
And Israel departed for the Pont Neuf. Succeeding in his errand thither, he returned to Dr. Franklin, and found that worthy envoy waiting his attendance at a meal, which, according to the Doctor’s custom, had been sent from a neighboring restaurant. There were two covers; and without attendance the host and guest sat down. There was only one principal dish, lamb boiled with green peas. Bread and potatoes made up the rest. A decanter-like bottle of uncolored glass, filled with some uncolored beverage, stood at the venerable envoy’s elbow.
“Let me fill your glass,” said the sage.
“It’s white wine, ain’t it?” said Israel.
“White wine of the very oldest brand; I drink your health in it, my honest friend.”