of by the quantity or the quality of the dishes, it equally deserved to
be considered as one of the masterpieces of the distinguished artist
who had prepared it.

"Dar, chil'en," he exclaimed, as they took their places, "dar, cap'en,
jes tas dem ar trout, to begin on, an see if you ever saw anythin to
beat 'em in all your born days. Den try de stew, den de meat pie, den
de calf's head; but dat ar pie down dar mustn't be touched, nor eben so
much as looked at, till de las ob all."

And with these words Solomon stepped back, leaning both hands on his
hips, and surveyed the banquet and the company with a smile of serene
and ineffable complacency.

"All right, Solomon, my son," said Bart. "Your dinner is like
yourself--unequalled and unapproachable."

"Bless you, bless you, my friend," murmured Bruce, in the intervals of
eating; "if there is any contrast between this present voyage and
former ones, it is all due to our unequalled caterer."

"How did you get the trout, Solomon?" said Phil.

"De trout? O, I picked 'em up last night down in de village," said
Solomon. "Met little boy from Gaspereaux, an got 'em from him."

"What's this?" cried Tom, opening a dish--"not lobster!"

"Lobster!" exclaimed Phil.

"So it is."

"Why, Solomon, where did you get lobster?"

"Is this the season for them?"

"Think of the words of the poet, boys," said Bart, warningly,--

"In the months without the R,
Clams and lobsters pison are."

Solomon meanwhile stood apart, grinning from ear to ear, with his
little black beads of eyes twinkling with merriment.

"Halo, Solomon! What do you say to lobsters in July?"

Solomon's head wagged up and down, as though he were indulging in some
quiet, unobtrusive laughter, and it was some time before he replied.

"O, neber you fear, chil'en," he said; "ef you're only goin to get sick
from lobsters, you'll live a long day. You may go in for clams, an
lobsters, an oysters any time ob de yeah you like,--ony dey mus be
cooked up proper."

"I'm gratified to hear that," said Bruce, gravely, "but at the same
time puzzled. For Mrs. Pratt says the exact opposite; and so here we
have two great authorities in direct opposition. So what are we to
think?"

"O, there's no difficulty," said Arthur, "for the doctors are not of
equal authority. Mrs. Pratt is a quack, but Solomon is a
professional--a regular, natural, artistic, and scientific cook, which
at sea is the same