Addison, Thomas and I began toasting bread over the hot stove, but kept
a curious eye out for that "white monkey."

Of course it was figurative monkey. Aunt Olive put six quarts of milk in
a kettle on the stove, and as it warmed, thickened it slightly with
about a pint of corn-meal.

As it grew hotter, she melted into it a square of butter about half the
size of a brick, then chipped up fine as much as a pound of cheese, and
added that slowly, so as to dissolve it.

Last, she rapidly broke, beat and added a dozen eggs, then finished off
with salt and a tiny bit of Cayenne pepper, well stirred in.

For five minutes longer she allowed the kettleful to simmer on the
stove, while we buttered three huge stacks of toast.

The monkey was then ready. All hands gathered round with their plates,
and in turn had four slices of toast, one after another, each slice with
a generous ladleful of white monkey poured over it.

It was delicious, very satisfying, too, and gave one the sense of being
well fed, since it contained all the ingredients of substantial food. As
made by Aunt Olive, this white monkey had the consistency of moderately
thick cream. It slightly resembled Welsh rabbit, but we found it was
much more palatable and whole-some, having more milk and egg in it, and
far less cheese.

We liked it so well that we all wanted it for breakfast the next
morning--and that was fortunate, since we had little else, and were
exceedingly loath to lose a day's time sending teams down home, or
elsewhere, for more meat, beans and potatoes.

There were several families of French-Canadians living at clearings on
Lurvey's Stream, three miles below the lake; and since I was the
youngest and least efficient axman of the party, they sent me down there
every afternoon to buy milk and eggs, for more white monkey. Of cheese
and butter we had a sufficient supply; and the yellow corn-meal which we
had brought for the teams furnished sheetful after sheetful of
johnny-cake, which Aunt Olive split, toasted, and buttered well, as a
groundwork for the white monkey.

And for five days we ate it as we toiled twelve hours to the day,
chopping, hauling and sawing birch!

We had a slight change of diet on the fourth day, when Aunt Olive cooked
two old roosters and a chicken, which I had coaxed away from the
reluctant French settlers down the stream.

But it was chiefly white monkey every day; and the amount of work which
we did on it was a tribu