About the middle of October, 18--, there
occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilliness. Just before sunset
I scrambled my way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend,
whom I had not visited for several weeks--my residence being at that
time in Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the island, while
the facilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those of
the present day. Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom,
and, getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was
secreted, unlocked the door and went in. A fine fire was blazing upon
the hearth. It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one. I
threw off an overcoat, took an armchair by the crackling logs, and
awaited patiently the arrival of my hosts.
Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial
welcome. Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to prepare
some marsh-hens for supper. Legrand was in one of his fits--how else
shall I term them?--of enthusiasm. He had found an unknown bivalve,
forming a new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and
secured, with Jupiter's assistance, a _scarab?¦us_ which he believed to
be totally new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion
on the morrow.
"And why not to-night?" I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, and
wishing the whole tribe of _scarab?¦i_ at the devil.
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