118 WARWICK WOODLANDS. 



" Yes ! yes ! all that's true," answered Harry, " but take my 

 word for it, the liquor case is not put in yet. Well, Timothy," 

 he went on, as they reached the door, " that is right. Have 

 you got everything put up 3" 



" All but t' gam' bag and t' liquor ca-ase, sur," Tim replied, 

 touching his hat gnostically as he spoke ; " Ay reckoned pie- 

 ease sur, 'at you'd maybe want to fill t' yan oop, and empty t' 

 oother !" 



" Very well thought, indeed !'' said Archer, winking to Fores- 

 ter the while. " Let that boy stand a few minutes to the hor- 

 ses' heads, and come into the house yourself and pack the birds 

 up, and fetch us some water." 



u T' watter is upon t' table, sur, and t' cigars, and a loight ; 

 but Ay'se be in \vi' you directly. Coom hither, lad, till Ay 

 shew thee hoo to guide 'em ; thou rnunna tooch t' bits for the 

 loife o' thee, but joost stan' there .anent them if they stir 

 loike, joost speak to 'em Ayse hear thee !" and he left his 

 charge and entered the small parlor, where the three friends 

 were now assembled, with a cheroot apiece already lighted, and 

 three tall brimming rummers on the table. 



" Look sharp and put the birds up," said Harry, pitching, as 

 he spoke, the fine fat fellows right and left out of his wide 

 game pockets, " and when that's done fill yourself out a drink, 

 and help us on with our great coats." 



" What are you going to do with the guns ?" inquired the 

 Commodore. 



"To carry them uncased and loaded ; substituting in my own 

 two buckshot cartridges for loose shot," replied Archer. " The 

 Irish are playing the very devil through this part of the coun- 

 try we are close to the line of the great Erie railroad and 

 they are murdering, and robbing, and I know not what, for 

 miles around. The last time I was at old Tom's he told me 

 that but ten days or a fortnight previously a poor Irish woman, 

 who lived in his village, started to pay a visit to her mother by 

 the self same road we shall pass to-night ; and was found the 

 next morning with her person brutally abused, kneeling against 

 a fence stone dead, strangled with her own cambric handkerchief. 

 He says, too, that not a week passes but some of them are found 

 dead in the meadows, or in the ditches, killed in some lawless 

 fray ; and no one ever dreams of taking any notice, or making 

 any inquiry about the matter !" 



"Is it possible? then keep the guns at hand by all means !" 



