Show THE COOKED TROUT If thuz one thing I like bettr another said the old settler its the eatin of a trout arter its cooked Alter its cooked remarked the squire evidently astonished Wall major ye dont mean to siniwate ez yd eat a trout fore twero cooked do ye2 siniwute nothin bgosh P replied the old settler warmly siniwate nothin I dont meanter say ez Id eat a trout raw I but I do mean tel say ez Ive cat amany a one an so hev you an evrybody else ez hez eat em at all hez eat amany a one which was sposed to be cooked an was so considered but which want cooked bgosh no moren a juicy steaK is cooked wen its fried an fried in store lard at that an fried til ye cant tell whuther its a cut o beef or a hunk o liver Thats wat I moanter say squire so it is Wall major said the squire I dunno whose cookin yen cuttin at but I do know that wen it comes to cookin a trout my Betsey kin Yes bgosh interrupted the old settler set-tler and his face grew red your Betsey an my Mriar an somebody else Jerusha thinks they km cook a trout an mebbe they kin It haint their fault ii f they cant cause they cant help the bes Dart o the trout bein gone by the time it comes inter their bans But the bes part o the trout is gone all the samean even if it want they cant cook a trout anyway an Ill give the reason fur why They dont go at it right In the fust place wen they git hold o the fish even if i E haint been outn the creek a day or so layin with its innards out an their place took up by a hanful or so o salt our women folks goes to work an souses the trout in water washes it all off rips i t open an cleans it an then souses the inside in-side of it til it looks like a piece o bob veal Then b gosh wat does they do bu roll it in flour til yo cant tell whuther i t was a trout or a durn ornary sucker that ye fetched hum an then no matter if it weight two poun wicb o course ez ita matter o fact th haint much danger o its doin nowadays if ye stick to the truth no matter if it weighs two poun slap I It goes inter a fryin pan with pork an thar sizzle an sizzles an snaps its juice all over the stove an gits hard on the outside an stays half raw on the inside J w < t i an smells more like a sassigo wen its put afore ye ready fur chawin than it does like the sweetscented qulverin sparklin thing ye draw outn the eddyin pool fist at the foot o the swift bend in the br ok i whar the alders nods an the elms throws their dancin shadders An thars another reason wy Betsey or Mriar or Jerusha cant cook a trout cause half o the cookin of a trout is in the ketchin o it Ill tell ye squire Yer campin fur instance fur a day or two on yer favrite crEek Yer got in thar late in the arternoon cause on yer way out yer trapsed a good piece outn yer way to see how the signs o woodcock is an whuther the ol hen pheasants hez had proper luck wIth their hatchin an to kinder skin yer eye over the prospecs o deer an to mebbe take a peep long the swamp edges fur a bar or so awallerin Wall ye git to yen campin place late in the arternoon an by the time ye got things in shape yer too tired to let the trout know yev come an so ye bunk in on yer bed o newcut hem lock boughs an fore yeve heerd the whipper will call twict settin out jist beyent yer cabin ez he is an makin the stillness seem deeper with his noise ye sling yer arm up over yer head an whoop 1 bgosh yer asleep Wen ye wake up in the mornin the sun is jist athinkin 0 gottin up an itll be half an hour yit fore yo kin say good mornin to him The trees is full o birds asingm thuz a sassy red squirrel chatterin in the big chesnut tree down in the holler the breeze comes down from the mountain back o ye an fills ye full o new life the leaves trembles an shakes an drops little showers o silver thatll glitter by an by when the sun sees em ye cant see the brook > but yo kin hear it shoutin from beyent the stretch o hemlocks yo look aroun and swell yen lungs an say Bgosh this is nice an I haint a bit tired no more I Then ye dig yer fire place a foot deep an ez wide ez ye want it Ye dig it right in the mossy spot at the foot o the old rock jist a step from the cabin Then ye build a fire o hard wood and keep her gain til by the time yev got yer flies tied on an evrytning in shape fur gain over an tacklin the brook yev got a foot deep 0 the cleanest redhottest ashes ez ever glowed an waited fur to bo used Ye find the creek jist right an wile yer ookin it over a greenwinged fly drops on the water an it cant struggle hard enough to keep the ripples from bearin it along till it circles roun the edge o the big rock I that sets in the brookjist blow ye lookin proud 0 the moss that kivers it an seemn to say Dont yo wish ye war me settin here in tie shadders an the crceka kissin of ye an allus singin to ye day in an day out an never gittin tired o it Dont yew ye-w < sh ye war meP The greenwinged fly circles roun the edge o the proud ol rock Ye see a flash in the water an thuz a foamy place in the pool fur a secon or so The green winged fly is gone n Aha l ye say If yell take mine that way ol feller v my meat An ye drop yer flies way below the rock an dance em up along it Whiz He took the leader an its in his jaw Give him line Keep away from that ol root thar on tother side the creek Whew See him come out oy that water Hes a good un bgosh Thar he goes fur tide like a steam Ingine I Follow him quick if he leads ye a mile Hoi on Hoi on 1 Hes comin back agin Reel in yer line an dont hol yer rod so low Straighten her up Straighten her up Thar Now let him worry hisself a spell In that deep hole Keep him head up Hes a game un but hes a goner Now hell fellow yen line ez ye reel him in Gentle with him fur hell give another kick wen he sees ye Thar he comes Now yer net 1 Aha Hes yournl 1 Lay him in the dewy grass Dont put yer bans on him Sniff the savor of im Nothin like that grows on plant or tree nor kin they make it with the balm o flowers t t1 Wall squire bavin ketched your trout ye look at him a minute ez he lays Char in the grass The sun hez got up meantime an is peepin down at him through the openins in the leaves makin his gold an crimson to glisten an sparkle agin Than yo run yer finger under his gill an carry him to the cabin Ye lay him lightly on the moss keepin yer bans olIn him Right by the cabin tiiuz sweet fern a growin an ye kin smell it Mebbo thuz a clump or so o spicewood If th is all the better Ye pick some fern or spicewood or both an lay it by the trout Then ya take a piece o clean brown paper an ye lover it with the fresh butter that Betsey made an which is in the little stone jar that y e sunk in the spring at the edge o he alder thicket last night Ye kiver the paper thick with the butter an ye sprinkle pepper > an salt on it Then ye wrap the trout in it jist ez it come from the lake a quarter hour ago Then ye wrap a little o the sweet fern or spice wood leaves about the paper wrap another brown paper over the hull an bury yer trout clean to the bottom o the redhot ashes Then ye go to tho creek an take a soothin ol wash arter which ye take that little flat bottle o yourn an walk over to the spring an tamper with it gently By the time ye come back an cut yer bread and set yer table ye kin think o onkiverin yer breakfast break-fast Wen that trout comes out from the ashes an ye take his wrappin off he looks like so much like he did the minute ba come outn tho water that ye cant hardly think hes dead an cooked An thars his natral smell sweet an penetratin wlch the ferns kep from wastin away Ye take yer sharp knife an cut him open in the belly Thaws his innards all shriveled up in a leetle wad an they come all out together an yer trouts ez clean inside in-side ez kin be an none o his natralness im missin Ye take him up lay him on birch bark if ye kin get it if not on yer platter with fern all aroun him an then wen ye eat him yer eatin a trout thats cooked bgoshtlmighty an its me that says It1 I ED MOTT |