In the Haunts of Wild Fowl 117 



We are ready now for dinner at 6.30. 

 The saloon is bright and cheerful, and the 

 stove glows with a bed of red-hot coals. We 

 start the music box, and take our places at 

 the four sides of the table. There are four 

 of us my wife, our two boys, aged fourteen 

 and ten, and myself, but we figure for the 

 needs of eight normal appetites. The first 

 course is fat oysters on the half-shell, picked 

 up by the bushel on the flats at low tide by 

 the cook. The oyster plates give way to 

 diamond-back terrapin stew. We catch our 

 own terrapin. They cost us nothing except 

 the fun of catching them. When I strike 

 terrapin at a banquet in New York I 

 generally have to ask what it is. After 

 the terrapin, the cook sends in the ducks 

 four browned, juicy, smoking balls on a 

 big game platter! It takes a whole duck 

 for each ravenous appetite meat so deli- 

 cious, so tender and toothsome it fairly 

 melts in your mouth! We serve with grape 



