264: WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



Oh! ah! yes. The omelette was not what was pro- 

 perly expected of a dish prepared with such flaming an- 

 nouncement ; either from receiving too much sugar, or 

 from some want of lightness on the part of the parent 

 turtle, or from some dissipating effect of just a few drops 

 of brandy, to give it an essence, that the head cook con- 

 fessed to have put in it, or from some other unexplained 

 reason, the omelette never scuffled, but remained per- 

 versely dense ; it might better have been called an ome- 

 lette au plomb. Lou Jackson suggested that the heat 

 had so far generated the young turtles that their shells 

 made it tough. Others insinuated that the brandy ap- 

 propriated for the omelette had been perverted from its 

 use by the Doctor, and therefore the omelette grew 

 downhearted. But it was no great loss, after all. We 

 concluded we had eaten enough without it, and gave it 

 up with a sly laugh at the Doctor. 



As the dinner progressed it had become dark, and now 

 only the blazing fire lighted the foliage and the rippling 

 beach, and only the faint call of the raccoon in the woods 

 answered the heron and the duck in the marsh, and 

 gradually we sank down to our usual places, talking in 

 a low tone, and casting remarks back into memory, and 

 away into the future, now telling a tale, now half singing 

 a song, until we dropped asleep. 



" But what of the pumpkin ?" I hear you ask. 



Oh ! that we kept for the next day. 



