"That's a motley crowd, Sir George," said Mr. Mackenzie. They could easily be observed by the Colonel, for his seat commanded a view of the whole room.
"Yes, you have many nationalities here: German, English, Scotch, Irish, French," said Sir George.
"But Johnny Canucks are on top every time," was the answer. "They stand the work well, and make fine lumbermen. They have their peculiarities, though. See how they spread their molasses on their pork instead of their bread."
"Like the Dutchman sleeping on straw with his feather bed on top of him."
"Or the Irishman with his potatoes and point."
"Yes, but the French and the Dutch make the most of it, while Pat contents himself with a joke."
"And on it he fattens," returned Mackenzie with a laugh. "But I tell you my men are well fed, the grub's rough but wholesome, and we often eat a calf or a deer at a meal besides a pile of other stuff. Our table doesn't differ much from theirs either," he continued, "but to-day in honor of our guests, particularly Mrs. Manning and yoursel', Sir George, I told the cook to make it extra fine. By George, he's sending us griddled tenderloin, roast turkey and stuffed partridges as well."
Then they had baked potatoes, cranberry sauce, salaratus cakes and tea.
"We've only got brown sugar, Mrs. Manning, I'm sorry to say," he continued, turning to Helen. "And unfortunately our coos are all dry."
"It's a genuine feast," returned Helen, "and I'm thirsty enough to drink anything." With an effort she controlled the muscles of her face as she drank the beverage. Lumber-camp tea in those days was a nauseous draft to any but the woodsmen themselves.