When the fire was lighted he filled his pannikin at the brook and put
it on to boil, and cutting several slices of buffalo tongue, he thrust
short stakes through them and set them up before the fire to roast. By
this time the water was boiling, so he took it off with difficulty,
nearly burning his fingers and singeing the tail of his coat in so
doing. Into the pannikin he put a lump of maple sugar, and stirred it
about with a stick, and tasted it. It seemed to him even better than
tea or coffee. It was absolutely delicious!
Really one has no notion what he can do if he makes believe _very
hard_. The human mind is a nicely balanced and extremely complex
machine, and when thrown a little off the balance can be made
to believe almost anything, as we see in the case of some poor
monomaniacs, who have fancied that they were made of all sorts of
things--glass and porcelain, and such like. No wonder then that poor
Dick Varley, after so much suffering and hardship, came to regard that
pannikin of hot sirup as the most delicious beverage he ever drank.
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