after darting from where he sat a few invigorating glances over the river-meadows to the blue mountains beyond, Pierre made a masonic sort of mysterious motion to the excellent Dates, who in automaton obedience thereto, brought from a certain agreeable little side-stand, a very prominent-looking cold pasty; which, on careful inspection with the knife, proved to be the embossed savory nest of a few uncommonly tender pigeons of Pierre’s own shooting.

Herman Melville, Pierre, or The Ambiguities (1852)