The twinkle in her eyes showed me that my curiosity must still remain unsatisfied, but it nevertheless became greater than ever.
The boys and I had one day made a long and fatiguing expedition, and, tired out, we flung ourselves down in the veranda. As we lay there resting, we heard the mother's voice.
"Could any of you enjoy a little jelly?"
She presently appeared, bearing a porcelain dish laden with most lovely transparent jelly. Cut with a spoon and laid before us it quivered and glittered in the light. "Ambrosia!" exclaimed Fritz, tasting it. It was indeed delicious, and, still marveling from whence the mother could have obtained a dish so rare, we disposed of all that she had set before us.
"Aha," laughed the mother, "is not this an excellent substitute for tobacco, far more refreshing than the nasty weed itself? Behold the product of my mysterious seaweed."
"My dear wife," exclaimed I, "this dish is indeed a masterpiece of culinary art, but where had you met with it? What put it into your head?"
"While staying with my Dutch friends at the Cape," replied she, "I often saw it, and at once recognized the leaves on Shark Island. Once knowing the secret, the preparation of the dish is extremely simple; the leaves are soaked in water, fresh every day, for a week, and then boiled for a few hours with orange juice, citron, and sugar."
At last came the day when Fritz was to make his trial trip with the cajack. Completely equipped in swimming costume—trousers, jacket and cap—it was most ludicrous to see him cower down in the canoe and puff and blow till he began to swell like the frog in the fable.
All trace of his original figure was speedily lost, and shouts of laughter greeted his comical appearance. Even his mother could not resist a smile, although the dress was her invention.
I got the other boat out, that my wife might see we were ready to go to his assistance the moment it became necessary.