A STORY OF SIX SHAEKS. 93 



counting the furs and skins of every kind which I sell 

 to the American Fur Association, and the fish from the 

 Dyots, which I have salted and smoked for my men. 

 And now, whenever it suits you to come and pay 

 me another visit, I shall be much obliged to you for 

 the kindness/' 



I am almost ashamed to confess my neglect, but 

 although this was sixteen years ago, I have neither 

 seen nor heard anything more of the farmer of 

 Wyaconda Bottom. 



VI.— A STORY OF SIX SHARKS. 



There is an old story that Marshal Saxe's cook 

 once dressed his top boots with a sharp sauce, 

 and made them so good that he eat them. This 

 may have been true ; but I would have defied him 

 to do the same with a shark. 



Unless you happen to be a South Carolinan or a 

 Floridan nigger, you will agree with me that nothing 

 can be more detestable than a steak of this voracious 

 Squalus, even though Careme himself, Chevet, Potel, 

 or Chabot did their best to serve it with a sauce 

 made of the purest Aix olive oil, and the best tarra- 

 gon Moutarde de Maille. * 



* I have been assured that the meat of young sharks found in the 



