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of damage done to ivories by its ... meat or vain and fruitless mastication of a bit of tough old bear, how often have I gloated on your fair proportion as divested quickly of your suit of mourning ? by the skilful hands of Peshwego, your plumb carcase plunged into the hissing corn, where you would sing and dance for twenty minutes, when head legs and all, piece by piece you would ... down my relishing throat, whilst Joe would cunningly pick your little caput, of their delicious brains, revelling in the delicate feast, tender as a chicken, rich as a ground hog, delicate as porcupine meat, you embody the idea of an Indian delicacy -- however there is an ending to all things, even to a squirrel feast and we were soon snoring under