He
was watching Thoreau when, at a word from Marie, the Frenchman suddenly
swung open the oven door and pulled forth a huge roasting pan.
At sight of the pan Father Roland gave a joyous cry, and he rubbed his
hands raspingly together. The rich aroma of that pan! A delicious whiff
of it had struck their nostrils even before the cabin door had
opened--that and a perfume of coffee; but not until now did the
fragrance of the oven and the pan smite them with all its potency.
"Mallards fattened on wild rice, and a rabbit--my favourite--a rabbit
roasted with an onion where his heart was, and well peppered," gloated
the Little Missioner. "Dear Heaven! was there ever such a mess to put
strength into a man's gizzard, David? And coffee--this coffee of
Marie's! It is more than ambrosia. It is an elixir which transforms a
cup into a fountain of youth. Take off your coat, David; take off your
coat and make yourself at home!"
As David stripped off his coat, and followed that with his collar and
tie, he thought of his steamer trunk with its Tuxedo and dress-coat, its
pique shirts and poke collars, its suede gloves and kid-topped patent
leathers, and he felt the tips of his ears beginning to burn. He was
sorry now that he had given the Missioner the check to that trunk.
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