'Why, the paintings on his walls!--Ah! there is, indeed, the hand of a Zeuxis!' 'You flatter me, my Clodius; indeed you do,' quoth the aedile, who was celebrated through Pompeii for having the worst paintings in the world; for he was patriotic, and patronized none but Pompeians.

'You flatter me; but there is something pretty--AEdepol, yes--in the colors, to say nothing of the design--and then for the kitchen, my friends--ah! that was all my fancy.' 'What is the design ?' said Glaucus.

'I have not yet seen your kitchen, though I have often witnessed the excellence of its cheer.' 'A cook, my Athenian--a cook sacrificing the trophies of his skill on the altar of Vesta, with a beautiful muraena (taken from the life) on a spit at a distance--there is some invention there!' At that instant the slaves appeared, bearing a tray covered with the first preparative initia of the feast.

Amidst delicious figs, fresh herbs strewed with snow, anchovies, and eggs, were ranged small cups of diluted wine sparingly mixed with honey.

As these were placed on the table, young slaves bore round to each of the five guests (for there were no more) the silver basin of perfumed water, and napkins edged with a purple fringe.