But not necessarily, not necessarily, of course."
"Bologna it is very _ecclesiastic_." Mr. Bellini addressed my other
parent, recovering a smile. "We have produced here six popes. It is the
fame of Bologna."
"You seem to think a great deal of producing popes in Italy," momma
replied coldly. "I should consider it a terrible responsibility."
"Now do you suppose," said poppa confidentially, "that the idea of
trichinosis had anything to do with slackening the demand?"
Mr. Bellini threw his head back, and passionately replaced a section of
biscuit and cheese in the middle of his plate.
"I know nossing, any more than you! Why you speak me always that Bologna
sausage! _Pazienza!_ What is it that sausage to make the agreeable
conversation!"
"Sir," exclaimed the Senator with astonishment and equal heat, "you
don't seem to be aware of it, but at one time the Bologna sausage ruled
the world!"
Mr. Bellini, however, could evidently not trust himself to discuss the
matter further. He rose precipitately with an outraged, impersonal bow,
and left the table, abandoning his biscuit and cheese, his half finished
bottle of Rudesheimer and the figs that were to follow, with the
indifference of a lofty nature.
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