Cuss all such trash, says I."
While I was listening in mute astonishment, wondering whether in truth
the old savage never cleaned his teeth, Archer made his appearance, and
to a better supper never did I sit down, than was spread at the old
round table, in such profusion as might have well sufficed to feed a
troop of horse.
"What have we got here, Tom?" cried Harry, as he took the head of the
social board; "quail-pie, by George--are there any peppers in it, Tom?"
"Sartain there is," replied that worthy, "and a prime rump-steak in the
bottom, and some first-best salt pork, chopped fine, and three small
onions; like little Wax-skin used to fix them, when he was up here last
fall."
"Take some of this pie, Frank;" said Archer, as he handed me a huge
plate of leafy reeking pie-crust, with a slice of fat steak, and a plump
hen quail, and gravy, and etceteras, that might have made an alderman's
mouth water; "and if you don't say it's the very best thing you ever
tasted, you are not half so good a judge as I used to hold you. It took
little Johnny and myself three wet days to concoct it. Pie, Tom, or
roast pig?" he continued; "or broiled woodcock? Here they are, all of
them?"
"Why, I reckon I'll take cock; briled meat wants to be ate right stret
away as soon as it comes off the griddle; and of all darned nice ways of
cooking, to brile a thing, quick now, over hot hickory ashes, is the
best for me!"
"I believe you're right about eating the cock first, for they will not
be worth a farthing if they get cold.
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