"Aye," said Ulenspiegel, "I know her, she is Flemish from Zotteghem, she lives in the rue Vinave-d'Isle, and the neighbours say that her mother sweeps the street, in front of the house, instead of her, and that her father irons her shifts."
But Lamme made no answer and said gleefully:
They came together to Lamme's house, near the Pont-des-Arches, and knocked at the door. A one-eyed serving woman came and opened to them. Ulenspiegel saw she was old, lean and long, flat and fierce.
"La Sanginne," said Lamme to her, "will you have this one to help you in your work?"
"Take him, then," said he, "and make him know and test the delights of your cookery."
La Sanginne then put three black puddings on the table, a quart of cervoise ale, and a big hunch of bread.
While Ulenspiegel ate, Lamme also munched a black pudding.
"Do you know," said he, "where our soul hath its habitation?"
"In our stomach it dwelleth," said Lamme, "to delve therein without ceasing and ever renew in our bodies the force of life. And what are its best companions? They are all good and choice eatables and wine of the Meuse over and above."
"Aye," said Ulenspiegel, "black puddings are agreeable company for the lonely soul."
"He wants more of them, give him some, la Sanginne," said Lamme.
La Sanginne gave him more, this time white puddings.
While he was eating largely, Lamme, grown pensive, said:
"When I die, my belly will die with me, and there below in purgatory, I shall be left fasting, carrying my paunch about with me all flabby and empty."
"The black seem to me better," said Ulenspiegel.
"You have eaten six," replied la Sanginne, "and you shall have no more."
"You know," said Lamme, "that you will be well treated here and will eat like myself."
"I will remember that word," said Ulenspiegel.
Ulenspiegel, seeing that he ate the same as Lamme, was happy and content. The black puddings had given him so high a spirit that on that day he made all the caldrons, pans, and cooking pots shine and glitter like so many suns.
Living well in this house, he delighted to haunt kitchen and cellar, leaving the garret to the cats. One day, la Sanginne had two fowls to roast and bade Ulenspiegel turn the spit while she went to the market to fetch herbs for the seasoning.