26 



Tom Tootler. 



Just as Tom had finished this little reminiscence of his 

 stag-hunting days, the trim domestic before mentioned en- 

 tered with a notification that the huntsman was wanted 

 outside by someone who wished to see him with regard 

 to the purchase of a horse for hound-consumption, so we 

 rose to take leave of our host at the same time. '* What is 

 the time ?" 



'' Goodness gracious me ! we've sat here more than an 

 hour. Tom, I must be off, or I shan't get home until 

 dark. Ah ! here's the hack just as I wanted him. Good- 

 bye, Tom. The frost looks like going, I think — it's too 

 white to last ; so, in all probability, we shall see you and 

 the hounds next Tuesday, same as usual, at No Man's 

 Land." Tom, looking up at the sky, agrees with us, with 

 regard to our forecast of the weather, and bidding us 

 a cheery good evening, retires into his house, and we, 

 having lit a fresh cigar, trot gaily along, homeward-bound. 



