Gibson's Breakfast.

Otago Witness, Issue 2674, 14 June 1905, Page 79

Gibson's Breakfast.

When Gibsonr saw the smoke curling, up •.hove the underbrush -that ■borders- the road from the railway station, he deemed it his duty to find out what kind of a. fire it was that caused the smoke. As he crushed his •way through alders and sumach, an agreeable smell of broiling ham met his nostrils; and on the other side of the wall an unshaved person,, who was also rather ragged and not scrupulously clean, was tending a large slice of ham, which was nicely balanced over some liot coals on two black birch twigs. A blackened tomato can, adjusted on the edges of two bricks, evidently contained coffee, and on an open newspaper some sliced potatoes were waiting their turn. A loaf of bread and a quart box of fine strawberries reposed beside the pota-

toes. ' Gibson cleared the wall with a bound. "Hullo!" said he.

The tramp dropped the ham on the coals, and * seemed to meditate flight. "It's all right," said Gibson. "Pick Tip your ham or you'll burn it." The tramp rescued the meat, and looked distinctly relieved. Gibson sat down on a log. "You seem to be fixing for an early dinner," he remarked. "You're off there," said the tramp, genially. "It's a late breakfast. I don't never eat lunch — unless I can get it." "Well, you're making up for it to-day. There must he a pound and a-half of that

"I wish there was two!" said the tramp fervently. "There, I guess itfs about done now. Will you have a. bite?" "Much obliged," said Gibson; "but my dinner's waiting for me at home. It looks good, though. Who's your butcher?" "I smoke my nams myself on my model farm," replied the tramp, indistinctly, between bites. "I don't know but what it costs me mere than it would to buy '«ni; Btill, I don't grudge the extry expense." "I see." said Gibson. "Do you raise your own potatoes, too?" "I raised these," replied the tramp, dexterously spearing half a dozen slices on the point of his clasp J knife and conveying them to his mouth. Gibson smiled. "Strawberries from your own garden?" he continued, in the same jocular vein. "Well, as to them herries, I wouldnt exactly say I grovred 'em myself. I picked '■em, though." He winked over his can of coffee. "It's a good meal," he continued appreciatively. "There ain't nothin' lackin' only a smoke." Gibson had in his waistcoat pocket a crear which he regarded as particularly fine. It was the only one, and he had: meant to smoke it after his- own dinner ; But he was seized with a generous impulse, and presented it to the tramp. 'Hie thought of the tramp's enioyment of 'that meal was wrfcE. G-ibson all through his own dinner, which happened to be boil«d mutton. He aimost wished he had accented the tramp's hospitable invitation. "My dear," lie said to Mrs Gibson, •'do you know what I'd like? Some broiled iiam, my dear — nicely broiled — with potatoes : and I should like to top off with strawberries. "

"That's iust exactly what you will have for breakfast to-morrow morning !" ened Mrs Gibson, delightedly. "I'm glad IVe got something that you will enjoy. There's a nice slice "

At this instant the cook burst excitedly into the room. "Mrs Gibson, ma'am," ehe said, "the ham's pone out of the refrigerator! It couldn't have been oats. Ibecause the stravrberrips is gone too. and fche rold potatoes I'd sliced to fry for breaklast!"