The waiter stares and shrugs his shoulder—
“Monsieur is dead this many a day.”
“It is the lot of saint and sinner,
So honest Terrè’s run his race.”
“What will Monsieur require for dinner?”
“Say, do you still cook Bouillabaisse?”
“Oh, oui, Monsieur,” is the waiter’s answer,
“Quel vin, Monsieur, désire-t-il?”
“Tell me a good one.” “That I can, sir:
The Chambertin with yellow seal.”