992 DUCK-SHOOTING. 
birds that were killed during it, and met with a 
hearty greeting from a goodly company collected 
round the groaning board of mine host of the white- 
flowing locks. There was our worthy President, 
and our Secretary and Treasurer gracefully combined 
in one; there our lucky man and the unlucky man, 
and there a famous black-bass fisherman, and there 
my special friend, and others of lesser note. 
We sat down to tea with roasted canvas-backs at 
one end of the table, broiled steaks at the other, 
and beautiful potatoes flanking each that had been 
raised on our own premises and were tumbling to 
white particles, as though they were trying to be 
flour; jolly, round, baked apples sitting complacent- 
ly in their own juice, vegetables of all sorts, grapes 
from our grapery, and so many other inward com- 
forts that one hardly knew where to begin and never 
knew where to leave off. Our comely hostess, who 
had prepared these good things, poured out the tea 
for us, and put in sly remarks to her favorites ; and, 
altogether, it was truly pleasant. 
After tea and adjournment to the sitting-room, 
while enjoying the practical cigar or comfortable 
pipe, we discussed the varied fortunes of the day 
and the probabilities of the morrow; compared 
views on the habits of fish, flesh, or fowl, and related 
experiences of former expeditions. But eager for 
the morning sun, we retired early and dreamed of 
victory. 
As soon as the lazy dawn streaked the east, dress- 
ing being done by candle-light, we hastily disposed 
