"'Your stay among us has not been very pleasant, has it?' Mr. Emerson inquired.
"'Not so that you could notice it," replied our hero. 'I don't like fish, and I never did.'
"'That is the result of prejudice; the fish is a noble animal,' Mr.
Emerson declared.
"'He's not an animal at all,' our hero gently corrected. 'He's a biped, a regular wild biped without either love of home or affection for his children. The salmon is of a low order of intelligence, and has a Queen Anne slant to his roof. No person with a retreating forehead like that knows very much. The only other member of the animal kingdom that is as foolish as the salmon is Alton Clyde. The fish has got a shade the best of it over him; but as for friendship and the gentler emotions—why, the salmon hasn't got them at all. The only thing he's got is a million eggs and a sense of direction. If he had a spark of intelligence he'd lay one egg a year, like a hen, and thus live for a million years. But does he? Not on your Sarony! He's a spendthrift, and turns his eggs loose—a hatful at a time. He's worse than a shotgun. And then, too, he's as clannish as a Harvard graduate, and don't associate with nobody out of his own set. No, sir! Give me a warm-blooded animal that suckles its young. I'll take a farmer, every time.'
"'These are points I had never considered,' said Mr. Emerson, 'but every business has its drawbacks, you'll agree. If I have failed as a host, what can I do to entertain you while you grace our midst?'
"'You can do most anything,' remarked his handsome companion, 'You can climb a tree, or do anything except fish all the time.'
"'But it is a dark night without, and I fear some mischief is afoot!'
"'True! But yonder beautcheous gel—'"
Roused by the familiarity of these lines, Emerson looked up from his preoccupation and smiled at Fraser's serious pantomime.
"Am I as bad as all that?" he inquired, with an effort at pleasantry.