WARWICK WOODLANDS. 51 



discharged into the bowl ; and by the body of Bacchus as the 

 Italians swear and by his soul, too, which he never steeped in 

 such delicious nectar, what a drink that was, when it was com- 

 pleted. 



Even Tom Draw, who ever was much disposed to look upon 

 strange potables as trash, and who had eyed the whole proceed- 

 ings with ill-concealed suspicion and disdain, when he had quaffed 

 off a pint-beaker full, which he did without once moving the 

 vessel from his head, smacked his lips with a report which might 

 have been heard half a mile off, and which resembled very 

 nearly the crack of a first-rate huntsman's whip. 



" That's not slow, now !'' he said, half dubiously, " to tell 

 the truth now, that's first rate ; I reckon, though, it would be 

 better if there wasn't that tea into it it makes it weak and 

 trashy-like !" 



" You be hanged !'' answered Harry, " that's mere affectation 

 that smack of your lips told the story ; did you ever hear such 

 an infernal sound ? I never did, by George !" 



" Begging your pardon, Measter Archer,'' interposed Timothy, 

 pulling ids forelock, with an expression of profound respect, 

 mingled with a ludicrous air of regret, at being forced to differ 

 in the least degree from his master ; " begging your pardon, 

 Measter Archer, that was a roommer noise, and by a vary gre-at 

 de-al too, when Measter McTavish sneezed me clean oot o' t' 



W 7 hat's that ? what the devil's that ?" cried I ; "this Mc- 

 Tavish must be a queer genius ; one day I hear of his frighten- 

 ing a bull out of a meadow, and the next of his sneezing a man 

 out of a phaeton." 



" It's simply true ! both are simply true ! We were driving- 

 very slowly on an immensely hot day in the middle of August, 

 between Lebanon Springs and Claverack ; McTavish and I on 

 the front seat, and Tim behind. Well ! we were creeping at a 

 foot's pace, upon a long, steep hill, just at the very hottest time 

 of day ; not a word had been spoken for above an hour, for we 

 were all tired and languid except once, when McTavish asked 

 for his third tumbler, since breakfast, of Starke's Feriritosh, of 

 which we had three two-quart bottles in the liquor case when 

 suddenly, without any sign or warning, McTavish gave a sneeze 

 which, on my honor, was scarcely inferior in loudness to a pistol 

 shot ! The horses started almost off the road, I jumped about 

 half a foot off my seat, and positively without exaggeration, 



