“I shpose you dinks dish ish von lie. All right. You may dink vat you blease, put dis is vat I sees myself. I ton’t care nottings now vat you dinks, only ven a man vill not pelieve goot sense ven he hears him, he is von very much vool. Vat you got in the pan, Shule?” “Soup,” said Jules. “Vat you makes him off?” “Grouse,” said Jules, smiling. “Ven he ish reaty, let us have somet’ings to eat. I ish hoongry. Vy does ve coom here pefore it ish dime to set our traps, Penn?” “I’ll tell ye. Ef we ain’t on hand ’arly, all the places will be taken up. And I know a place whar we kin make our fortun’s, sure. I’ve got a beaver-dam thet beats the world. But come, Jule, I’m like Dutchy. I want something to eat. Ef it’s ready, dish it up.” Each man had a tin cup among his other property, and Jules filled three of them from the pan on the fire. For a few moments nothing was heard but the clicking of spoons and smacking of lips over the savory mess, for Jules was a good cook. Jan shoveled down the contents of his cup first, and held it out for more. “Like it?” said Jules. “Goot!” said Jan, smacking his lips again. “Pest I ever eats. Gif me more of it.” Jules filled the cup again, and then replenished his own and that of Ben Miffin, who was not far behind the others in disposing of the food. At last Jan was satisfied, and drawing his hand across his mouth slowly, he proceeded to fill his pipe for a smoke. Jules cleared away the pan, put another stick of wood on the fire, and got away from the reach of the ponderous hand of the Dutchman, and then said: “I s’pose you know what you have been eating, Jan?” There was very little, except in the accent of the young man, to show that he was a Frenchman, and the occasional use of the pronoun “him” in the place of “it.” “Didn’t you say it vash grouse?” said Jan. “’Twas goot, anyvay.” “Yer mighty right,” said Ben. “’Twas the best grub I’ve had fer a long time. But ’twa’n’t no grouse. I knew it as soon as I put it in my mouth. Ye gev me some once before, ye remember.” “It’s a pity Jan don’t like it. I think it’s durned good.” “Vat I peen eating?” cried Jan, in great alarm. “Off you vash not dell me now, dis very dime, vat it vas, I vill raise my hand oop unt let it fall on your cophf (cope), unt it vill kill you!” “It was something you said to-day you would not eat if you were starving.” “Snakes!” screamed Jan, starting to his feet, with both hands pressed on his stomach. “No, not so bad as _that_,” said Jules. “It was frog soup.” Jan sat down again to consider over the matter. For full five minutes he neither moved nor spoke, but sat with his head resting on his hand. At last he looked up. “Pring me dat pan,” he said.