292 THE COOKERY OF VENISON 



reversion, and we greatly doubt whether the miseries 

 of suspense are repaid by any subsequent satisfaction. 

 Moreover, slips between the platter and the lip must 

 be counted with. Some alarm may disturb the camp, 

 or the sudden descent of a thunderstorm may put 

 out the fire. One of the most pathetic incidents we 

 have come across in the course of our reading 

 is chronicled by Ruxton in that delightful book, 

 c Adventures in Mexico.' He had been riding for 

 days on short rations, when he reached a town where 

 he could do some marketing. He and his hungry 

 cavalry escort weie seated round the great pot 

 simmering over a fire in the Plaza, containing the 

 unusual luxuries of beef, fowls, onions, and eggs. 

 There was no venison, by the way, on that particular 

 occasion, though he lived chiefly on the deer that fell 

 to his rifle, but the moral is the same. Ruxton sat 

 smoking a puro voluptuously, and inhaling the odours 

 of \hspuchero. At last came the moment of projection. 

 With precautions he raised the earthenware kettle, 

 when the bottom gave way and the contents were 

 precipitated. Tableau of traveller and troopers, 

 who had to mortify the flesh as usual on Mexican 

 beans and cakes of buckwheat. 



But there are historical deceptions nearer home, 

 over the haunch or the neck. It was Theodore Hook, 



