"They've worked bee-yu-tiful," said Long Jim, an ecstatic look coming over his face. "I've caught rabbits an' a 'possum. Then I set to work and built this oven, an' I've learned a new way to broil rabbit steaks on the hot stones. It's shorely somethin' wonderful. It keeps all the juice in 'em, an' they're so tender they jest melt in your mouth, an' they're so light you could eat a hundred without ever knowin' that you had 'em."
"That's what I'm thinkin'," said Shif'less Sol, reaching for his rifle. "Gimme about twenty o' them steaks quicker'n you kin wink an eye, Jim Hart, or I'll let you hev it."
Long Jim, the soul of an artist still aflame within him, willingly produced the steaks, and all ate, finding that they were what he had claimed them to be. But he waited eagerly for the verdict, his head bent forward and his eyes expectant.
"Best I ever tasted," said Henry.
Long Jim's eyes flashed.
"Finer than silk," said Shif'less Sol.
Sparks leaped from Long Jim's eyes.
"Could eat 'em forever without stoppin'," said Tom Ross.
Long Jim's eyes blazed.
"I couldn't 'a' stood it ef you fellers hadn't liked my finest 'chievement," he said. "Shows you've got more sense than I thought you had."