On this occasion the « birds " — as
ban viveurs love to call them, although
terrapin is used as fish by the most
devout Catholics in the severest or
Lenten time — were plentiful, and our
darkey, having put us ashore, very
soon returned with a boat containing
his mate, nets, sounding-poles, rakes
and other impedimenta of his calling,
a business that pays the catcher,
according to luck, from $5 to $50 a
week.
The haul, which was watched by
a luckless fisherman with consider-
able envy, proved a good one, the
ground being literally cut from under
the feet of the terrapin, and there
were vast expansive grins, accom-
panied by chuckles loud and deep, as
the well-laden boat rowed back with
its precious freight to the quaint old
capital of Maryland.
Terrapins are jealously guarded
by the law, and a stringent Act
exists which protects diamond-back
terrapin in the waters of the State of
Maryland. The fishing opens on
the first of November and terminates
on the thirty-first of March. It is
unlawful to catch any terrapin of a
size less than five inches on the bot-
tom of the shell, or to interfere with
or destroy the diamond-back terra-
pin's eggs. It is stated that thirty
years ago the dealers found it diffi-
cult to sell terrapin at $6 a dozen,
and now the difliculty lies in obtain-
ing them at any price. Their num-
bers are rapidly decreasing, and un-
less some effective protective means
are forthwith taken, a terrapin will
indeed prove a rara avis in terris.
Sliders are plentiful in the tribut-
aries of the Chesapeake, as also are
"snappers." Turtles are fished for
in this way: The fisherman plants
poles, sometimes a hundred, in the
middle of the stream ; to each pole
he fastens a line, to which is attached
a hook baited with salted eel. The
snapper grabs bait and hook, and is
hauled up, always vicious and despe-
rate.
The fishermen around these trib-
utaries take a thousand pounds'
weight of turtle a week, which they
sell at ten cents a pound. The snap-
pers' eggs, about the size of marbles,
are considered a great delicacy.
Apropos of turtle and terrapin, the
following is the menu of a perfect
Maryland dinner, as arranged by
"one of the knowing ones":
"Four small oysters from Lyn-
haven Bay; terrapin a la Maryland;
canvas-back ducks; a small salad of
crab and lettuce. Vegetables — baked
Irish potatoes; fried hominy cakes
and plain celery." — Magazine,
THE CONSUMPTION OF ICE CREAM.
Enormous quantities of ice cream
are consumed every day in New
York city in warm wether. On the
Fourth of July the supply, though
unusually large, was nearly exhausted
by ten o'clock at night. Ice cream,
like ice, in old times used to be con-
sidered a luxury in New York in-
stead of a necessity, and old Gotham-
ites recall with pleasure the memories
of Vauxhall Garden, Niblo's, Castle
Garden and other open-air resorts
where ice cream, ices and Roman
punches were served during the dog
days. In those days a quarter of a
dollai was considered a fair evening's
investment for a young man treating
a single fair friend, as the highest
price for ice cream was "sixpence"
a plate, and an ice was thrown in
S20
COOKING FOR PROFIT.
ioT a "shilling." A first-rate Prin-
dpse cigar for two cents would top
off the treat.
Page 363
Presented as published in 1886. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
On this occasion the "birds" — as bon viveurs love to call them, although terrapin is used as fish by the most devout Catholics in the severest or Lenten time — were plentiful, and our darkey, having put us ashore, very soon returned with a boat containing his mate, nets, sounding-poles, rakes and other impedimenta of his calling, a business that pays the catcher, according to luck, from $5 to $50 a week.
The haul, which was watched by a luckless fisherman with considerable envy, proved a good one, the ground being literally cut from under the feet of the terrapin, and there were vast expansive grins, accompanied by chuckles loud and deep, as the well-laden boat rowed back with its precious freight to the quaint old capital of Maryland.
Terrapins are jealously guarded by the law, and a stringent Act exists which protects diamond-back terrapin in the waters of the State of Maryland. The fishing opens on the first of November and terminates on the thirty-first of March. It is unlawful to catch any terrapin of a size less than five inches on the bottom of the shell, or to interfere with or destroy the diamond-back terrapin's eggs. It is stated that thirty years ago the dealers found it difficult to sell terrapin at $6 a dozen, and now the difficulty lies in obtaining them at any price. Their numbers are rapidly decreasing, and unless some effective protective means are forthwith taken, a terrapin will indeed prove a rara avis in terris.
Sliders are plentiful in the tribut-
aries of the Chesapeake, as also are "snappers." Turtles are fished for in this way: The fisherman plants poles, sometimes a hundred, in the middle of the stream ; to each pole he fastens a line, to which is attached a hook baited with salted eel. The snapper grabs bait and hook, and is hauled up, always vicious and desperate.
The fishermen around these tributaries take a thousand pounds' weight of turtle a week, which they sell at ten cents a pound. The snappers' eggs, about the size of marbles, are considered a great delicacy.
Apropos of turtle and terrapin, the following is the menu of a perfect Maryland dinner, as arranged by "one of the knowing ones":
"Four small oysters from Lynhaven Bay; terrapin a la Maryland; canvas-back ducks; a small salad of crab and lettuce. Vegetables — baked Irish potatoes; fried hominy cakes and plain celery." — Magazine,
THE CONSUMPTION OF ICE CREAM.
Enormous quantities of ice cream are consumed every day in New York city in warm wether. On the Fourth of July the supply, though unusually large, was nearly exhausted by ten o'clock at night. Ice cream, like ice, in old times used to be considered a luxury in New York instead of a necessity, and old Gothamites recall with pleasure the memories of Vauxhall Garden, Niblo's, Castle Garden and other open-air resorts where ice cream, ices and Roman punches were served during the dog days. In those days a quarter of a dollai was considered a fair evening's investment for a young man treating a single fair friend, as the highest price for ice cream was "sixpence" a plate, and an ice was thrown in
S20
ioT a "shilling." A first-rate Prindpse cigar for two cents would top off the treat.