Canvass-back Duck,
if eaten in the land of his birth, is decidedly the most delicately-flavoured of all the “Quack” family. His favourite food is said to be wild celery, and his favoured haunts the neighbourhood of Chesapeake Bay, from whose waters comes the much prized “diamond-back” terrapin, which is sold at the rate of 50$ or 60$ the dozen. The canvass-back duck, however, suffers in transportation; in fact, the tendency of the ice-house aboard ship is to rob all food of its flavour.
But however good be the living in
New York City
—where the hotels are the best in the world, and whose Mr. Delmonico can give points to all sorts and conditions of food caterers—it is “a bit rough” in the provinces. There is a story told of a young actor, on tour, who “struck” a small town out West, and put up at a small inn. In the course of time dinner was served, and the landlord waited at table. The principal cover was removed, disclosing a fine joint of coarsish, indifferently-cooked beef. Our young actor was strangely moved at the sight.
“What?” he cried. “Beef again? This is horrible! I’ve seen no other food for months, and I’m sick and tired of it. I can’t eat beef.”
Whereupon his host whipped out a huge “six-shooter” revolver, and covering the recalcitrant beef-eater, coolly remarked:
“Guess you kin!”
But I don’t believe that story, any more than I believe the anecdote of the cowboys and the daylight let through the visitor who couldn’t eat beans.