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Updated: May 1, 2025
We reached the pretty chalet hotel, which was hardly completed then, though it is a famous resort now, and it was a new experience, after faring hardly on doughy flapjacks and reistit pork of our own cooking, to sit at a well-ordered table covered with spotless linen.
At last, with an effort over his spoon, he gasped a floating recollection: "Do you still like flapjacks, Susy?" "Oh, yes," with a laugh, "but we don't have them now."
Besides, we don't eat bread, up here. We eat flapjacks." "Jiminy!" sighed Billy, his mouth watering as he smacked his dry lips. "That sounds mighty good, just the same. Honest, I've been living on old ox so long I've nearly forgotten what flapjack tastes like. I used to have 'em back home, though. Remember those old Liz, our cook, made? Yum! Just the same," he added, defiantly, "I'm glad I came.
Griddle cakes, flapjacks, or breadstuff of some kind had to be produced also; coffee in a pot that looked big enough for a hotel, with condensed milk, and a meal apiece for their dinner-hour. "I just give 'em anything cold that's left over," said Pennington unsympathetically. "There has to be lots of it, that's all." Marjorie cried out in horror. "Oh, they mustn't have those cold!
I scanned the dreary monotonous valleys stretching away from the river. We had for several days been living on scenery, tobacco, and flapjacks. The scenery had flattened out, tobacco was running low; but the flapjacks bid fair to go on forever.
Lizzie was a stickler for orders, and she would not begin to fry cakes until Jess' mother gave the signal. Flapjacks! My! weren't they good, with butter and syrup, followed by bacon and eggs and French fried potatoes? The girls ate for a solid hour. Lizzie's face was the color of a well-burned brick when the girls admitted they were satisfied.
Hardy's wrist was a little lame, figuratively speaking, from throwing flapjacks for hungry sheep herders, and the pile of grain and baled hay in the storehouse had dwindled materially; but as the sheep came through, band after band, and each turned off to the west, stringing in long bleating columns out across The Rolls, he did not begrudge the hard labor.
There were about a dozen of them simple, strenuous, brown-faced Bush-ranchers for the most part and they ate in haste, voraciously, when the abundant but rudely served supper was laid out. Nasmyth had not much appetite, and the greasy salt pork, grindstone bread, desiccated apples, flavoured molasses, and flapjacks hot from the pan, did not tempt him.
Building a cabin, learning to prepare his own meals, getting accustomed to solitude were new experiences for the cartoonist from Milwaukee. "Not many courses," he said, as he dragged the spuds out from under the bunk; "just two b'iled potatoes, first course; flapjacks and 'lasses, second course; and coffee." "You've discovered the Indians," we said, pointing to the canvas.
He saved himself and Phil from rolling further. But a frying-pan the shipowner's son carried broke loose from the pack on his back and went clattering down the rocks to the very foot of the hill. "For the love of flapjacks, stop that noise!" cried Sid Todd, in a low voice. "Time you get to the top of the hill them deer will be ten miles away!"
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