bove. I trust ye be grateful, Lad, for the gift the Lord
has gi'n ye; for, though yer tongue knows leetle of speech, yit yer
fingers can bring sech sounds out of that fiddle as a man might wish to
have in his ears when his body lies stiffenin' in his cabin, and his
sperit is standin' on the edge of the Great Clearin'. Yis, Lad, ye must
sartinly play for me when my eyes grow dim, and my feet strike the trail
that no man strikes but once, nor travels both ways."

At this point the announcement of supper was made; and the company
streamed towards the tables. The repast was of that bounteous character
customary to the houses located in the woods, in which the hearty
provisions of the forest were brought into conjunction with and
re-enforced by the more light and fanciful _cuisine_ of the cities.
Among the substantiate, fish and venison predominated. There was
venison roast, and venison spitted, and venison broiled; venison steak
and venison pie; trout broiled, and baked, and boiled; pancakes and
rolls; ices and cream; pies and puddings; pickles and sauces of every
conceivable character and make; ducks and partridges; coffee and tea
whose nature, I regret to say, was discernible only to the eye of faith.
In the midst of this abundance, the Old Trapper was entirely at home. He
ate with the relish and heartiness of a man whose appetite was of the
highest order, and whose courage mounted to the occasion.

[Illustration: "_Even the waiters, as they came and went, caught the
infection._"]

"I tell ye, Henry," said the old man, as he transferred a duck to his
plate and proceeded to carve it with the aptness of one who had
practical knowledge of its anatomy, "I tell ye, Henry, the birds be
gittin' fat; and I sartinly hope the flight this fall will be a good un.
Don't be bashful, Lad, in yer eatin'," he continued, as he transferred
half of the bird to his companion's plate, "ye haven't got the size of
some about the waist, but yer length is in yer favor, and if ye will
only straighten up, and Henry don't gin' out, there'll be leetle left on
this eend of the table when we have satisfied our hunger. I don't know
when the cravin' of natur' has been stronger within me then it is this
minit; and if nothin' happens, and ye stand by me, the Saranacers will
remember our visit for days after we be gone. It isn't often that I feed
in the settlements, or get a taste of their cookin', but the man who
basted these birds knowed what he was doin