men.

ter of course, supper was provided after the manner of fisherAs there was some simplicity and labor-saving about this preparation, I will, in all benevolence, impart to the superintendents of pot-hooks and trammels, and epicures in general, the details thereof.

First, the fire being recalled to life upon the hearth of circling stones, a temporary crane was formed by uniting above the curling flame, the heads of three opposite crooked sticks, whose sharpened ends were secured in the ground. Upon this machine was hung the iron pot; it was the only one, and so far as dimensions were concerned, it was perfectly qualified for all its various vocations. This being filled from Jerry's well, a noble bass, a captive of the last tide, was introduced into the element. The lid was put on, the flame went up, and in a little time a low bubbling grumbling noise was heard, that Oliver said made him feel as though several families had lately moved out of his ventricular tenements. The bustling Zoph blew the kindling coals, with his lungs for a bellows, bending down until his lips came in contact with the very ashes.

"Studet maxime, ut olla ferveat, ut accuretur prandium,” said I to Ned, quoting some old schoolboy slang,-I don't know where I got it,—in an under tone, pointing to Zoph.

"No, I thank you,” replied Zoph, turning half round to me, having caught the sound of the last word, and interpreting it into an invitation-"I daresn't drink brandy on account o' sprainen my foot."

I accepted the offered credit without the slightest compunction of conscience. Ned taught me that virtue. "Accipio" is a fond, familiar word. It is a favorite maxim with Ned, that a man so seldom gets an honest acknowledgment for what he does do, that it is only a fair recompense to pick up a little

reputation, when he can, for what he does not do.—But the` fish.-Well, fire and water did their duty, and the bass was stretched upon a pewter platter, ready for the knife, and set down in the midst of the company.

"Cooked, glorified and made beautiful, by the irresistible genius of hickory wood," cried Ned, making a theatrical flourish, and clapping a quarter of a pound of his subject-matter into his mouth, in the place of the last word that went out.

A general distribution of platters having taken place, and two or three hunks of rye-bread being tumbled upon the straw, with butter, and pepper, and salt according, our jack-knives were soon in requisition, every man cutting and eating “on his own hook," and, in a very short time, a very audible sound of mastication went around the fireplace, and up even into the secret places of the roof. The fish was good, glorious; it was so lately out the water.

Piscis nequam, nisi recens."* That old saw is as true now, as it was in the time of the oysterloving poet who created it. By-the-by, I take credit here for being the first icthyologist that has ever used that sentiment in its literal sense. Its author, and all his quoters, pedagogues and all, have, I believe, invariably applied it in its metaphorical capacity. It is set down in some one of my juvenile study books, as being the Latin for "a new broom sweeps clean." There is not the slightest doubt on my mind, that the memory of the quaint thought was most diligently flogged into me at school, and that, for its present apt illustration of my sentiments concerning fish, my sympathetic reader is indebted to the vigor and good will of the right hand of some one, or more, of those worthy people, whose delightful task it was, in former times, to teach my young ideas how to shoot, and to thresh

* Plautus.

34

me. A good deal of Latin was instilled into me in that way, but as it has leaked out principally, I generally try to make myself intelligible in English. Ned and I are both fond of it, though, and we talk our secrets in it a good deal; but what we manufacture, does not always rise above the dignity of hog-latin. Uncle Ben likes to hear us "jaw" in it, as he terms it; he says he thinks "it's got such a sanction to it." Touching fish, Searson has a doublet, which that much-neglected, and truly American poet, no doubt, thought good:

"What pleasure have the seamen with fresh fish;
Pleasing to catch, but better in the dish."*

The idea is simple, and the versification innocent; but I question the morality of the sentiment. It is most distinctly Epicurean.-But, supper.

"You needn't wash that ere pot," said one of the crew, whom I did not recognise, to Zoph, as he emptied the fishwater out doors. "You know what was into it last."

"It's as good as new," replied Zoph, returning. us that ere jug."

"Hand

The vessel referred to being replenished, now, jack-of-alltrades-like, commenced the performance of the functions of a tea-kettle, or rather of a chocolate cauldron. After pouring in

about a quart of molasses, the officiating cook opened his jackknife, and, bending over the pot, began to cut and scrape upon a dusky-colored oblong cake, and he stuck to his task, until the whole block had fallen in dust into the water. mixture being stirred with the end of a broken eel-spear, the Then, the process of blowing was repeated. As to what was to come

* "Mount Vernon, by John Searson, a rural, romantic, and descriptive poem, which it is hoped may please, with a copperplate likeness of the General."

out of this composition, I felt seriously uncertain. However, the fire crackled, and we cracked our jokes, and the pot boiled over, and then they took it off, and set it down again by the hearth. They called it chocolate. As good democrats, they had a perfect right to do so, and I impeach not the propriety of the baptism. We drew ourselves around it upon our haunches, and fixed our eyes upon the smoking liquid. While I was deliberating how we should ever get the stuff to our lips, one of the boys handed us each a pine stick, about a yard long, to one end of which was fastened a shell of that capacious clam, commonly known and described as the skimmaug.

For the satisfaction of the curious in the philosophy of language I will here remark, that of the orthography and etymology of this testaceous name, I must confess myself to be most lamentably unadvised. I am inclined to believe, however, that the word is aboriginal, and that skimmaugs were the shell-fish which the Marsapeag Indians used to send, in olden times, before they were civilized out of their wigwams and hunting-grounds, and before wine and whist had usurped the dominion of water and grouse in the region of Lif Snedecor and Ronconcommer Pond,-by way of tribute to their more powerful red brethren of the continent. I am confirmed in this opinion, by one of the papers of that highly valuable and extensively accessible institution, the New-York Historical Society, in which is communicated the interesting fact, that the Delaware tribe, or Lenni Lenapes, who claimed Matowacs as a colony, were an uncommonly piscivorous nation. I spoke to Uncle Ben upon the subject once, and asked his opinion. He told me that he "couldn't say for sarten, whether it was Ingen or Dutch, but he reckoned he'd heerd his grandfather say that the savages was high for fish," and the old man added,

without intending to pun, "Yes, yes, them Delawares was amazen clamorous people."*

Upon the introduction of these wands, I was at a loss to imagine to what desperate purpose they were to be applied, and apprehended a musical festival, or an Indian war-dance. But the active hands, and thirsty throats of my companions, soon enlightened my urban ignorance. These were spoons, veritable tea-spoons-spoons wherewith to sip our chocolate. And rapidly were they thrust into that steaming pot, ladling up and bringing back the dripping nectar of its contents. This was an interesting spectacle to contemplate. In sooth, it was expressly ante-diluvian. Forcibly was I reminded of that ancient and sententious maxim, "fingers was made before forks ;” and of that other pleasant household phrase, "make a long arm and help yourself."

"Can't you make chocolate without having it so devilish hot, boys?"

"The fire was made of split wood, sir; that's the reason."

The explanation was perfectly satisfactory. I soon became expert in the handling of my instrument, and the constantly going and returning vehicles soon exhausted the receiver. Supper was done. So is this instructive chapter.

* Vide the N. Y. Hist. Soc. Lib., Vander Donk's MS.-Heckewelder, do.-Mitchell's Conchology of Matowacs.-Silas Wood's History of Jerusalem, S. p. 254.