fulness, and mock anger, had been listening to what he
evidently deemed a high encomium; "that we hav'nt drinked yet; have you
quit drink, Archer, since I was to York? What'll you take, Mr. Forester?
Gin? yes, I have got some prime gin! You never sent me up them groceries
though, Archer; well, then, here's luck! What, Yorkshire, is that you? I
should ha' thought now, Archer, you'd have cleared that lazy Injun out
afore this time!"

"Whoy, measter Draa--what 'na loike's that kind o' talk? coom coom now,
where'll Ay tak t' things tull?"

"Put Mr. Forester's box in the bed-room off the parlor--mine up stairs,
as usual," cried Archer. "Look sharp and get the traps out. Now, Tom, I
suppose you have got no supper for us?"

"Cooper, Cooper! you snooping little devil," yelled Tom, addressing his
second hope, a fine dark-eyed, bright-looking lad of ten or twelve
years; "Don't you see Mr. Archer's come?--away with you and light the
parlor fire, look smart now, or I'll cure you! Supper--you're always
eat! eat! eat! or, drink! drink!--drunk! Yes! supper; we've got pork!
and chickens..."

"Oh! d--n your pork," said I, "salt as the ocean I suppose!"

"And double d--n your chickens," chimed in Harry, "old superannuated
cocks which must be caught now, and then beheaded, and then soused into
hot water to fetch off the feathers; and save you lazy devils the
trouble of picking them. No, no, Tom! get us some fresh meat for
to-morrow; and for to-night let us have some hot potatoes, and some bread
and butter, and we'll find beef; eh, Frank? and now look sharp, for we
must be up in good time tomorrow, and, to be so, we must to bed betimes.
And now, Tom, are there any cock?"

"Cock! yes, I guess there be, and quail, too, pretty plenty! quite a
smart chance of them, and not a shot fired among them this fall, any
how!"

"Well, which way must we beat to-morrow? I calculate to shoot three days
with you here; and, on Wednesday night, when we get in, to hitch up and
drive into Sullivan, and see if we can't get a deer or two! You'll go,
Tom?"

"Well, well, we'll see any how; but for to-morrow, why, I guess we must
beat the 'Squire's swamp-hole first; there's ten or twelve cock there, I
know; I see them there myself last Sunday; and then acrost them
buck-wheat stubbles, and the big bog meadow, there's a drove of quail
there; two or three bevys got in one, I reckon; leastwise I counted
thirty-three last Friday was a week; and through Seer's b