"Fish is no count, _I_ think," said Ransom. "It's only good to catch. I
can stand a lobster salad, though. But I can't stand long without
something. What's the use of waiting? They aren't coming back yonder
till night. They haven't stirred yet."

Ransom's eyes indicated the party on the island. And acting upon his
announced opinion, Ransom, paid his respects in a practical form, not to
cold chicken and bread, but to a dish of cream cakes which stood
conveniently near. And having eaten one, in three mouthfuls, he
stretched out his hand and took another. Happily then some meringues
attracted his attention; and he stood with a cream cake in one hand and
a meringue in the other, taking them alternately or both together. The
meringues began to disappear fast. Daisy warned him that the only dish
of those delicacies in all the entertainment was the one into which he
was making such inroads. Ransom paid her no heed and helped himself to
another.

"Ransom, that is not fair," said his sister. "There are no more but
those, and you will have them all gone. Just look, now, how the dish
looks!"

"How the dish looks!" said Ransom mockingly. "None of your business."

"It is not right. Don't Ransom!" Daisy said, as his hand was extended
for a fourth meringue.

"Want 'em for yourself?" said Ransom sneeringly. "I say,
Alexander--here's a game! Here's something just fit for a man's luncheon
in a summer day--something nice and light and nourishing. Here's a lark