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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

The
servants would split off the hot shell--this was turned top side
down, used as a dish and filled with butter, pepper and salt, into
which toothsome bits of the reptile, torn out by the guests'
forks, were dipped before being eaten.
The talk now caromed from birds, reptiles and fish to guns and
tackles, and then to the sportsmen who used them, and then to the
millionaires who owned the largest shares in the ducking clubs,
and so on to the stock of the same, and finally to the one subject
of the evening--the one uppermost in everybody's thoughts which so
far had not been touched upon--the Mukton Lode. There was no
question about the proper mechanism of the traps--the directors
were attending to that; the quality of the bait, too, seemed all
that could be desired--that was Breen's part. How many mice were
nosing about was the question, and of the number how many would be
inside when the spring snapped?
The Colonel, after a nod of his head and a reassuring glance from
his host, took full charge of the field, soaring away with minute
accounts of the last inspection of the mine.


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