The cabbage has experienced the process which is impending over this palace--it has been warmed up." "Warmed-up cabbage is better than freshly-cooked, but the fire over which we must try to make this palace enjoyable again, burns too hotly and must be too vigorously stirred.

The best things have been all taken out, and cannot be replaced." "Like the sausages, I have fished out of my cabbages," laughed the sculptor.

"After all I cannot invite you to be my guest, for it would be a compliment to this dish if I were now to call it cabbage with sausages.

I have worked it like a mine, and now that the vein of sausages is nearly exhausted, little remains but the native soil in which two or three miserable fragments remain as memorials of past wealth.

But my mother shall cook you a mess of it before long, and she prepares it with incomparable skill." "A good idea, but you are my guest." "I am replete." "Then come and spice our meal with your good company." "Excuse me, sir; leave me rather here behind my screen.