238 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



We shook hands like old friends long parted, and he 

 motioned me to my seat at table with courtly grace, and 

 it began to dawn upon me that I was, for this occasion, 

 not his partner, but his guest. He had prepared the din- 

 ner alone, as he had intimated he would, and he was host, 

 chef, garcon and companion all in one on this Christmas 

 Day in the wilds of Wisconsin. The first course was a 

 soup of deer shanks with the marrow-bones cracked; but 

 I will try to put that memorable dinner in the shape that 

 some chef of to-day would put it, when it would be like 

 this, with my translation: 



MENU. 



POTAGE. 



Consomme du bois. (Deer shank soup.) 



POISSON. 

 Saumon du font, au naturel. (Brook trout fried.) 



RELEVE. 



Tranches d'agneau montebello. (Venison steak, sweet sauce.) 

 Aqua pura. (Bad Ax water.) 



ENTREES. 



Poularde a la chevreuse. (Boiled partridge.) 



Haricots. (Baked beans.) 



Vin du Bad Ax. 



ENTREMETS DE DOUCEUR. 



Pouding de ris au fruites. (Rice pudding with raisins.) 

 Cafe. Tobac. 



Now I ask you I mean you sportsmen, old and 

 young how does that seem to you for a Christmas din- 

 ner either in the woods or in the wildest restaurants of 

 New York city? 



Most of these things we had cooked in one shape or 

 another, but never such a lay-out as that at one feed. 

 The great surprise came with the rice pudding with 

 raisins, for I had no idea that these things were in camp; 

 but Antoine had smuggled a handful of rice and a few 



