DUCK-SHOOTING. 34? 



birds that were killed during it, and met with a 

 hearty greeting from a goodly company collected 

 round the groaning hoard 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 



