WARWICK WOODLANDS. 135 



now and feed them poor starvin' bags-a-bones, as Archer calls 

 dogs, and tell your mother to git supper. Have you brought 

 anything alon to eat or drink, boys I guess we haven't nothin' 

 in the house I 



" Oh ! you be hanged," said Harry, " I've brought a round 

 of cold spiced beef, but I'm not going to cut that up for supper ; 

 \ve shall want it to take along for luncheon you must get some- 

 thing ! Oh ! by the way, you may let the girls pick half a dozen 

 quail, and broil them, if you choose !" 



" Quail ! do you say ? and where'll I git quail, I'd be pleased 

 to know?" 



" Out of that gamebag," answered Harry, deliberately, point- 

 ing to the well filled plump net which Timothy had just brought 

 in and hung up on the pegs beside the box-coats* Without a 

 word or syllable the old chap rushed to the wall, seized it, and 

 scarcely pausing to sweep out of the way a large file of " The 

 Spirit," and several numbers of " The Register,' 5 emptied it on 

 the table. 



" Where the plague, Archer, did you kill them ?" he asked, 

 " you didn't kill all them to-day, I guess ! One, two, three 

 why, there's twenty-seven cock, and forty-nine quail 1 By gin ! 

 here's another ; just fifty quail, three partridge, and six rabbits ; 

 well that's a most all-fired nice mess, I swon ; if you killed them 

 to-day you done right well, I tell you you won't get no such 

 mess of birds here now but you was two days killing these, I 

 guess 1" 



" Not we, Tom I Frank and I drove up from York last night, 

 and slept at young Tom's, down the valley we were out just 

 as soon as it was light, and got the quail, all except fifteen or 

 sixteen, the ruffed grouse and four hares, before twelve o'clock. 

 At twelve the Commodore came up from Nyack, where he left 

 his yacht, and joined us ; we got some luncheon, went out 

 again at one, and between that and five bagged all the cock, the 

 balance, as you would call it, of the quail, and the other two 

 bunnies*" 



" Well, then, you made good work of it, 1 tell you, and you 

 won't do nothin' like that agin this winter not in Warwick ; 

 but I won't touch them quail it's a sin to break that bunch 

 but you don't never care to take the rabbits home, and the old 

 woman's got some beautiful fresh onions- she'll make a stew 

 of them a smother, as you call it, in a little less than no time, 

 Archer ; and I've got half a dozen of them big gray snipe 



