The Story of Porcelain | Page 3

people staying here at the camp beside ourselves?"
inquired Theo at last.
Dr. Swift, who had seated himself before the fire, nodded.
"Yes, there is a Mr. Croyden, from Trenton, New Jersey, whom I have
met here before--a splendid man, whom you will like. He is a great
fisherman--comes back every season just about this time. At present
there is no one else, so you will not find the woods overcrowded."
Theo laughed at the bare suggestion, then yawned drowsily.
"Nor will you be troubled by not sleeping to-night, eh, son? You look
about ready to hit the pillow this minute."
"I am," replied Theo. "I never was so sleepy in my life."
"That is the Maine air."
"Some of it is the effect of the corduroy road," the boy observed with a
grin.
"It is a beastly road, that carry," agreed Dr. Swift. "It shakes every bone
in your body. When you do manage to get here, however, it certainly is
worth the trip. Do you feel as if you could worry down a little dinner?"
"Well, rather!"

The Doctor chuckled.
"So do I. It ought to be ready soon now, for it is nearly six."
Just at this moment the sound of a horn was heard.
Dr. Swift rose promptly.
"That is dinner," he said.
"I expected a bell," Theo answered, springing up.
"Waiting for a Japanese gong, are you? Well, you won't hear it here."
Clapping a hand affectionately on his son's shoulder the elder man led
the way to the dining-cabin and pushed open the door.
Upon the hearth inside another bright fire glowed, and before it stood a
long roughly made table covered with immaculate enamel cloth, on
which was spread a smoking meal.
A man with a pair of merry brown eyes rose from his chair as the two
travelers entered.
"I am glad to see you, Dr. Swift," he exclaimed heartily, putting out his
hand. "So you are back to the fishing grounds once more!"
"I certainly am, Mr. Croyden, and thankful enough to be here. I've
brought my boy, Theodore, with me this time; Theo, we call him."
Mr. Croyden took the lad's hand cordially.
"I'm glad to see you, youngster," he said. "If you prove half as good a
fisherman as your father the two of you won't leave a trout or salmon in
these waters."
"But I'm not a fisherman at all," Theo confessed. "I never cast a fly in
my life."

"You certainly have come to the right place to learn, then. Your father
has been neglecting your education, I fear. I see there is something we
can teach you."
"I'm afraid there are a good many things," replied Theo modestly.
Mr. Croyden regarded him approvingly.
"That's right, boy," he said kindly. "Never be afraid to learn. We all are
still learning, at least I am; and I will wager your father is, too."
"A doctor is always learning," assented Theo's father.
"And a business man as well," put in Mr. Croyden. "When we no
longer need to learn we can be pretty sure we are near the end of our
usefulness in this world. Now suppose we begin your education, Theo,
by teaching you the proper way to eat a brook trout. How would that
lesson please you?"
There was a twinkle in the stranger's eye.
"Very much indeed."
"I rather thought so," was the laughing answer. "Here, Franz, help Dr.
Swift and his son to some of the fish I caught to-day. They are the first
of the season, Doctor, with my compliments." He made a courtly
gesture with his hand. "Remember, Theo," he added, "always to open a
fish up the back. In that way you can take the backbone out whole and
save yourself a deal of trouble."
Theo nodded his thanks for the suggestion.
What a dinner it was!
The trout were fried to a rich bronze, and the crisp potatoes were discs
of golden brown; in addition there were baked beans, smoking
brown-bread, slices of creamy cheese, and a pyramid of doughnuts. At
the conclusion of the meal Franz came running from the cook-house
with a covered dish heaped high with pancakes.

It was only when the three campers were unable to crowd down another
mouthful that they rose from the table.
"Don't you and Theo want to come into my cabin and enjoy my fire for
a while?" asked Mr. Croyden.
"Why, thank you, Croyden," answered Dr. Swift; "we might make you
a short call. We are off to bed early, however, so we must not stay
long."
Mr. Croyden's cabin proved to be a replica of the Swifts' own cozy one,
except that it was more sumptuously furnished; for Mr. Croyden, who
was a hunter as well as a fisherman, had adorned both couch