Monsieur de la Betise entered into a generous rivalry with his wife; and, to shed an atmosphere of local truth about the place, busied himself in decorating the room with cabbage leaves and other emblems of the festive season.

At last it was time to dress for dinner. Monsieur de la Betise put on a historical costume, borrowed from the portraits of George IV. The pantaloons were made of the best white kid, in order that he might look like the "first gentleman of Europe" as much as possible; whilst Madame attired herself in the becoming costume of Queen Elizabeth. And all their guests, out of compliment to their hosts, came likewise in English historical characters. The effect of this grand tableau vivant can be much better conceived than described.

The dinner passed off bat slowly; though there was no scarcity of every kind of English beer. There was the ale from Edinburgh, and the stout front Dublin, and the far-famed porter from London, with other varieties, such as the generous half-and-half, and the friendly bitter of the celebrated Bass, and others too numerous to mention. These were served round, as in England, in wine-glasses; but they did not seem to exhilarate the company much. The goose and rosbif were cut up into little knobs, and handed round, according to the rule practised in all English circles, to each guest, but were removed without a single word of commendation. At last the moment for the grand event of the evening had arrived ! Desire lodged upon every lip; curiosity lurked in the corner of every eye. The entire assembly was sitting upon the tiptoe of expectation (if so familiar an expression may be allowed upon so solemn an occasion), when the door was thrown open - not a breath was heard - and in marched the servants, proudly bearing the glory of England: the celebrated dish, whose generous character it is, unlike most human characters, only to yield greater and greater goodness the oftener it is brand(i)ed; the universal guest on Christmas day at every English table, who is always received with cheers the instant of his arrival - the ever-welcome English Plum-Pudding !

The Plum-Pudding was placed before Madame de la Betise, who, all smiles of conscious triumph, proceeded to pour it out, and to send it round, with a kindly intimation that "there was plenty more in the tea-urn."

The guests proceeded to taste the pudding, when it was universally pronounced "delicious." Still their faces did not express much relish; but Monsieur de la Betise was extremely loud in its praises. He had already emptied one cup, and sent up for a second; but no one seconded his enthusiasm, much less followed his example. A dead silence ensued for several minutes. At last, a captain of dragoons, bolder than the rest, ventured to remark, that " he hardly thought his was sweet enough," and asked for some sugar; Charles the Second recommended " a little cream;" whilst Oliver Cromwell called aloud to the servant "to take away the filthy stuff!"

Tasting The French

Plum Pudding.

There was a universal consternation, relieved by a few laughs, followed by a long-frozen silence. The ice at last was broken by the timid observation of Mary Queen of Scots, that "the pudding was far from bad, but she did not see any plums."

Whereupon the lid was removed, and the plums were found to be all at the bottom of the tea-urn!

More consternation; but Madame de la Be-tise, with great presence of mind, assured her dear friends that it was perfectly correct. The plums were always kept to the last. In the nobleman's family with whom she had the honour of living in Whetstone Park (great sensation) - the plums were always reserved for a famous game towards the latter part of the evening, which game was called snapdragon. Would any of her dear mends like to try a hand at it?

The proposition was received with cheers. A large basin was procured and tilled,according to Madame* instructions, and the flame was applied.

Poor Monsieur de la Betise's face began to light up.

The company arranged themselves round the table, ana proceeded to enter with warmth into the burning spirit of the game.

Cut the guests, finding that snapdragon was a game at which they only burnt their fingers and got no plums, gradually retired from it, with a generally expressed opinion that "the end of the English Plum-Pudding, if anything, was worse than even the beginning."

Monsieur de la Betise, however, was the most forward in the game; and the more he burnt his fingers, the louder he shouted, "Oh! It is very much beautiful! Yes."

The captain of dragoons, again bolder than the rest, or more accustomed, probably, than his companions, to standing British fire, thrust his hand right into the midst of the flaming washhand-basin. Not approving of the sensation, however, he withdrew his fingers hastily, and, in so doing, upset the bowl. The spirit ran like wildfire along the carpet, and the uproar that ensued defies alike drawing and description. The women shrieked, and ran out of the room to faint upon the staircase. The men rushed about for wet towels and blankets, and the fire was soon extinguished.

When the smoke had cleared away, a brilliant thought flashed upon Monsieur de la Betise. Looking philosophically at one of the wet towels, he advanced to Madame. " My dear, in boiling the Plum-pudding," he inquired softly, "did you put all the things into the saucepan?"

"I did - every one."

"And nothing else?"

"Not a single thing else, I can assure you."

"I thought as much," was her husband's answer. "Ladies and gentlemen," he then said, turning to his disconcerted guests, " I am very sorry our English Plum-Pudding was not better; but I am sure it would have turned out very differently if Madame had not forgotten to boil it in a cloth."

Whether the guests were satisfied with this explanation for the loss of their dinner, our simple story cannot tell; but at all events, Monsieur and Madame de la Betise were cured of their Anglo-maniac folly. They were content, ever afterwards, to talk, and dress, and eat, as other French persons do. They sold their bouledogue, King Charles, and cats; and never, as long as they lived, did they try another experimental dinner in English style of cookery.