He, too, was evidently glad to accept my invitation.
When I returned to my camping ground I found the basket unpacked and the young lady arranging the eatables.
"You shouldn't have done that," I said.

"I am the host here." She did not look up.

"Don't bother the table maid," she observed, briskly.

"That fire is not kindled yet." I lit the fire and, going over to the bushes, selected two of the fish, a bass and a pickerel.

I carried them down to the shore of the pond and began cleaning them, using my jacknife and a flat stone.