A CLAM-EATING DRAKE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1875, 26 February 1880, Page 3

A CLAM-EATING DRAKE.

Jasper Cook is, so far 'as residence and occupation are concerned, a Buffalonian. He however called himself a speculator. Jisper “struck” Jersey City Sunday mcrni.ig, and carried with him a suspicious looking canvas bag, which, from its dents and bulges, looked as if it too had struck Jersey City or something. Our Buffalonian slowly wended his way along Pavonia Avenue till he came to the first oyster saloon, whore it chanced that the writer and a few other habitues of the place were devouring their matutinal meal, jasper entered the door, and smiled sweetly in turn on each of the different eaters, as he approached the centre of the room, and then remarked—- “ I don’t eat clams myself, but I’ll bet two dollars I’ve got a drake in this bag as kin gobble more of that same shell fruit than any man in the house,” and he held up the canvas bag so that everybody could view it without straining too much. Nobody said anything, but a humorous wink went the rounds of the house, which wound up with the waiter, who was carrying a plate of “ fried ” to a_ card writer. “I’ll bet five dollars,” continued the man with the canvas, “ that my drake kin eat seventy - five clams raw—and there is no man as is able to accomplish more. No sirs,” he added, with a nod of the head, “not as many.” Whether it was the chance of winning five dollars, or the derogatory manner in which “ canvas ” spoke of “ man ” is hard to tell, but suddenly the card-writer seemed to wake up to his situation. He looked up slowly at the stranger from the plate, and said, “ I’ll take that fivo-dollar bet that your drake can’t eat seventy-five raw clams,” and he emphasised his speech by laying down five trade dollars on the table. Very quietly the stranger responded by matching the pile of silver with a scrappy-looking V. By this time everybody was interested and crowded round the table. “Bring forth your clams,” said “Canvass.” The card-writer left his seat, wont to the end of the room, held a whispered conversation with the “ boss ” of the shanty, during which they both laughed lightly but heartily, and then returned to his place. A wicked grin illuminated his features as he sat down and remarked that “they’d be here directly.” In a few minutes a man brought up alongside the table with a huge kettle containing clams, and a knife in his band. “Canvas” opened his bag and drew forth an ordinary looking drake, which he placed on the table. “Go ahead!” he said. The waiter opened the first clam very carefully, taking care not to spill any of the liquor, and offered it to the fowl. It was gobbled after a little effort. The next one followed suit, and the next, and the next. It was evidently fun for that drake. When he had finished fifteen clams he sat down. Ob the twentieth he got up and stood on one foot. After the twenty-second he bowed around to the company. He turned over on his back and actually laughed over the thirtieth. Then his appetite suddenly seemed to be freshened, and up to the sixty-first he stood to his work like a man. He hesitated so long over the sixty-second that everybody thought the card-writer was going-to win, but the drake finally dropped its mouthful, and then it was discovered that the waiter in his excitement had offered half of the shell with the meat. Prom that time up to the seventy-fifth the clams disappeared! like darkness before the sun. The kettle was declared empty, and “Canvas” and the drake entitled to the 5 dole. ; but the drake did not appear to be full yet. He was an unsatiable, unsubdued drake, and wouldn’t go into the bag as his owner gathered up the ton “ cases.” “ Gentlemen,” said “ Canvas,” dropping the bird on the chair, “my name’s Jasper Cook, and I come from Buffalo. You kin have this bird and stuff him. He’ll be dead in half an hour. They all die. I buy ’em for 75 cents and realise 4 dole. 25 cents on ’em —always. The game has never failed. Young man,” turning to the card-writer, “ the next time a clam-eatin’ drake crosses your path don’t spend 40 cents for whiskey to pour in the clams, but just dip ’em in lye and you’ll win the business on the seventh clam.” And Jasper Cook was out of the door before the assemblage had recovered their wits.— “ Jersey City Journal.”