With Gun P Rod in Canada 



as he expressed it, " cooked the kittle." By the time 

 we had cleaned up the first offering of our new guide's 

 hospitality he was perfectly satisfied that we approved 

 of his viands. 



We both noticed that Joe ate but lightly of his own 

 sumptuous fare. Solicitously remarking upon this, we 

 learned that he was suffering from indigestion. Walter 

 offered him a bottle of soda mints, which Joe refused 

 politely, explaining that he had a much better cure for 

 his malady if he could catch " one " ! 



" Catch what ?" Walter asked. 



" Frog," said Joe. 



Thinking he referred to frogs' legs, of which we both 

 were fond, we agreed that a mess of fried frogs' legs 

 for supper would be an acceptable delicacy. 



" I don't mean frogs' legs," drawled Joe. " I mean 

 whole frogs." 



" Whole frogs !" we exclaimed together. " How do 

 you cook them ?" 



" Don't cook 'em," explained Joe. " Eat 'em raw 

 alive." 



Not wishing to hurt the old fellow's feelings, and in 

 consideration of his evident effort to entertain us, we 

 restrained our inclination to derisively call him a liar, 

 so merely smiled non-committally. Joe detected the 

 gleam of doubt in our eyes. 



" You fellers don't believe it, I reckon." 



I accepted his challenge, and admitted I had seen 

 such marvels in side-shows. Without wishing to doubt 

 his word, I would like to see him demonstrate his fondness 

 for live frogs; and further, warming to the subject, told 

 him that it would be worth just five dollars apiece to me 

 for each and every frog he would swallow. Joe imme- 

 diately borrowed one of Walter's small dip-nets, and 

 wading along the edge of the lake soon captured a frog 



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