HOW TO ENJOY A BREAKFAST. 269 



on the raft a four-pound pickerel. Before I had baited again, 

 another float gave signs of agitation, and I landed another. 

 Jack, who had observed my success, now sculled alongside, 

 and took the two pickerel to be prepared for breakfast. 



I continued fishing and admiring the scenery, with the 

 tops of the mountains just beginning to be illuminated by 

 the rays of a bright sunrise, and the pickerel accepted my of- 

 ferings most voraciously, so that I was in the midst of a most 

 successful contest when the horn blew for breakfast. After 

 fastening my rods securely to the float, and seeing that each 

 hook was well baited, I sculled ashore for breakfast: 



On that lovely morning the sun seemed to have decked all 

 nature in holiday costume. After a refreshing bath, on en- 

 tering the hall leading to the dining-room, in the fragrant 

 aroma of the coffee I scented a welcome. The pickerel, which 

 had been first broiled or singed on the flesh side to prevent 

 the juice from escaping, was turned, and with a renewal of 

 hickory-wood coals was " done to a turn." Fresh butter, red 

 pepper, and a dash of black pepper for its aroma, prepared 

 the melting delicacy for the table. The smoke of the viands, 

 fish, and of the tureen of mashed potatoes, with the fragrant 

 coffee, greeted the senses like incense, and filled the measure 

 of my hope and ambition. 



After breakfast, a walk on the veranda, the discussion of 

 a cabana, and a look at the morning papers, which had al- 

 ready been received from the city, made me again anxious to 

 try the metal of those sly and peering long-noses. Adjourn- 

 ing to the hotel at eleven o'clock, forty-four pickerel included 

 my mess, and, partaking of an attractive lunch, I returned to 

 New York City in time to dine at seven in the evening. 



