Pray give them a place on your shelf. Pray accept a little volume, of
which I have a duplicate, that I may return in equal number to your
welcome presents. I think I am indebted to you for a sonnet in the
"London" for August.
Since I saw you I have been in France, and have eaten frogs. The nicest
little rabbity things you ever tasted. Do look about for them. Make Mrs.
Clare pick off the hind-quarters, boil them plain, with parsley and
butter. The fore-quarters are not so good. She may let them hop off by
themselves.
Yours sincerely,
CHAS. LAMB.
[1] The Northamptonshire peasant poet. He had sent Lamb his "The Village
Minstrel, and other Poems."
LXX.
TO MR. BARRON FIELD.
_September_ 22, 1822.
My Dear F.,--I scribble hastily at office. Frank wants my letter
presently. I and sister are just returned from Paris! [1] We have eaten
frogs. It has been such a treat! You know our monotonous general tenor.
Frogs are the nicest little delicate things,--rabbity flavored. Imagine
a Lilliputian rabbit! They fricassee them; but in my mind, dressed
seethed, plain, with parsley and butter, would have been the decision of
Apicius.... Paris is a glorious, picturesque old city. London looks mean
and new to it, as the town of Washington would, seen after _it._ But
they have no St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey. The Seine, so much
despised by Cockneys, is exactly the size to run through a magnificent
street; palaces a mile long on one side, lofty Edinburgh stone (oh, the
glorious antiques!) houses on the other.
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