say to a quiet game of 'draw'?" suggested Wildfen.

The idea suited Rutherford; Honey knew a little about the game and liked
it; and Plowden, though he had some doubt about his ability to play it,
upon learning that it was not in the least like whist said he would try.
So Sam, when he came in with another load of fire-wood, was despatched
to capture a pack of cards from his master's room and a box of gun-wads
from the closet where Rutherford's sporting paraphernalia were kept.

The game was not a lively one, and a gloomy despondency seemed to spread
its shadow over the table.

"This is very far, my friends," remarked Rutherford, "from the pleasant
evening I hoped to give you."

"No matter," sighed Plowden, resignedly; "even this is better than being
hanged for bigamy."

"Oh, pshaw, man! that is not a hanging offence. And you're not even
convicted yet. Don't give way so. You'll come out all right."

"Yes, I suppose we all will--if we don't starve meanwhile," grumbled
Wildfen.

"Oh, no fear of that," laughed Rutherford. "Sam will see to it that we
at least sit at the second table."

"That's what I've been used to," remarked Honey, unthinkingly; and then,
recalling himself, seemed to listen for a sharp voice saying in reproof,
"William!" After a moment he went on confusedly, "Well, gents. I don't
pretend I'm equal to my position among you. Hit was 'er has dragged me
hinto hit; I didn't want ter come. But that's hall hover an' done for.
She's a good woman, honly I cawn't stand 'er hallways ha-naggink hat me
hafore folks, hand ha pickink me hup habout my haitches. Why, hafore she
married me, hif I'd ha' dropped ha bushel hof 'em she wouldn't ha' said
nothink. Marriage, gents, 'as been a werry big disappintment to yours
trewly."

"My wife," said Wildfen, sullenly, "is the spirit of contradiction
personified."

"And mine of jealousy," added Rutherford.

"And mine of all that's angelic," moaned Plowden; "therefore I must be
torn from her by the rude clutches of the law. Did you observe how
sweetly she bore the horrible revelation? She looked like a drooping
lily, didn't she, Wildfen?"

"No," answered that embodied negative; "you did the drooping-lily part
of the play yourself. But are we going to stay here all Christmas, while
they are having a good time by themselves?"

"I'm afraid so, unless we sneak back, humbly beg pardon, and persuade
them to take pity on us," replied Rutherford.

"Never!" exclaimed the