216 



H I S T E Y OF H E R E F E D CATTLE 



in the old Philadelphia and Hendnck Hudson 

 seven times and return, we became thoroughly 

 acquainted, were never more happy than when 

 we could get a good joke on each other. The 

 Captain's laugh was so hearty that it cheered 

 everyone who heard it, and this being my third 

 trip for cattle, I engaged the steerage in New 

 York to bring them in. Going out Captain 

 Morgan agreed to go with me into the country, 

 to see some of my friends. 



We went into Oxfordshire and tarried all night 

 at the house of an old acquaintance, who was 

 exceedingly glad to see us, to talk about the old 

 country and the new, and, being early spring, 

 the young rooks were fully fledged and ready 

 to depart from their nests, a rook-shooting party 

 was expected the next day. The host, the Cap- 

 tain and myself went out to view the young ones, 

 perched by the side of their nests ready to take 

 their flight when confident of the strength of 

 their wings. The host asked the Captain if he 

 w.as a good shot. "I used to be a good shot 

 with a rifle when young, and I think I could 

 hit one of those chaps on the highest tree with 

 one." The host fetched his gun and loaded 

 both barrels; the Captain brought down his 

 bird. "Try again," said the host; he did, and 

 was equally successful. "You may as well kill 

 enough for a rook pie for dinner to-morrow, 

 before the shooters come in the afternoon." 



RANGE CALVES BOUGHT BY T. F. B. 

 EASTERN FEEDERS. 



SOTHAM FOR 



"Why, do you eat crow in England?" said 

 the Captain, and he gave the American defi- 

 nition, with one of his hearty laughs. 



"We consider young rook quite a favorite 

 dish with us, and I do not think you will de- 

 spise it to-morrow, after tasting it." So the 

 Captain went on shooting until he killed a 

 dozen, only missing two shots. 



"Why, you will do to compete with the best 

 of them to-morrow." The uproarious noise the 

 old and voung i;ooks made in the rookery at- 

 tracted a great deal of the Captain's attention ; 



it amused him much. We strolled round the 

 farm until tea time, looking at the Cotswolds, 

 all of which were very good. 



After, the neighbors called in, to whom I 

 was principally known, and the Captain soon 

 became acquainted, as he prided himself on be- 

 ing a "full blooded Connecticut Yankee," and 

 knew how to ask a few questions. We smoked 

 our long pipes, and drank our ale, or brandy 

 and water, as tastes differed. The Captain told 

 some good yams about land and sea that amused 

 the whole party. He almost made them be- 

 lieve that roast pigs were in every shop window, 

 with a fork stuck in their backs, inviting emi- 

 grants to come in and eat them free of cost. 

 One old gentleman said he thought it must be 

 a great country, but that he thought he was too 

 old to emigrate. 



The next day at 1 o'clock we sat down to the 

 rook pie. The Captain could not help thinking 

 of crow. He said to me, "Do you eat crow?" 

 "Certainly," said I, "and I bet you praise the 

 crow as much as you did the gun with which 

 you killed them." The top crust was short and 

 flaky, the under crust savory ; the crow tender 

 and of very nice flavor. The Captain looked 

 at me and said "crovj pie" as soon as he tasted 

 it. I said, "How do you like it?" "It is good, 

 so far, anyway." All were helped, and all en- 

 joyed it. The Captain began to think it ex- 

 cellent. 



"I challenge you to a glass of wine," said 

 the host. "Which will you have — port or 

 sherry ?'' and after he washed the first serving 

 down, he was ready to be served to a second. 

 Vrho would have thought a Yankee could have 

 supposed crow so good as this? The Captain 

 said he never before enjoyed a dinner so much. 

 I'he host loaned the Captain his gun. and nearlv 

 every one of his shots brought a "crow." The 

 guests thought the Captain a dead shot, and 

 there was about a wagon-load of young rooks 

 in a pile from all the guns. All were anxious 

 for a rook pie, and each took his share, the best 

 shots having no more than those less successful. 

 The Captain asked the hostess how she made 

 that "crow pie." She told him that she took 

 out the backbone, which was considered bitter, 

 and jointed the-rest, which was finer than even 

 partridge or pigeon, and the rooks being voung 

 were always tender and of fine flavor. ' The 

 Captain said he wished they could convert the 

 crows into rooks in America. 



It was now time to leave for Northleach. 

 Gloucestershire, to visit Mr. William Hewer. 

 William and myself being intimate friends from 

 school-fellows, I was as much at home as if I 

 had been iq my own house. William knew we 



