138 WARWICK WOODLANDS. 



truth. We'll not be losin' our supper for no lies, I guess ! 

 Leastways I won't ! Come Archer." 



And with a right good appetite they walked into the parlor ; 

 every thing was in order ; every article placed just as it had 

 been when Frank went up to spend his first week in the Wood- 

 lands ; the gun-case stood on the same chairs below the win- 

 dow ; the table by the door was laid out with the same display 

 of powder-flasks, shot-pouches, and accoutrements of all sizes. 

 The liquor-stand was placed by Harry's chair, open, containing 

 the case-bottles, the rummers being duly ranged upon the 

 board, which was well lighted by four tall wax candles, and be- 

 ing laid with Harry's silver, made quite a smart display. The 

 rabbits smoked at the head, smothered in a rich sauce of cream, 

 and nicely shredded onions ; the pork chops, thin and crisply 

 broiled, exhaled rich odors at the bottom ; the English snipe, 

 roasted to half a turn, and reposing on their neat squares of 

 toast, were balanced by a dish of well-fried sausages, reclining 

 on a bed of mashed potatoes ; champagne was on the table, un- 

 resined and unwired, awaiting only one touch of the knife to re- 

 lease the struggling spirit from its transparent prison. Few 

 words were spoken for some time, unless it were a challenge to 

 champagne, the corks of which popped frequently and furious ; 

 or a request for another snipe, or another spoonful of the sauce; 

 while all devoted themselves to the work in hand with a sincere 

 and business-like earnestness of demeanor, that proved either 

 the excellence of Tom Draw's cookery, or the efficacy of the 

 Spartan sauce which the sportsmen had brought to assist them 

 at their meal. The last rich drops of the fourth flask were trick- 

 ling into Tom's wide-lipped rummer, when Harry said, 



" Come, we have clone, I think, for one night ; let's have the 

 eatables removed, and we will have a pipe, and hear what Jem 

 has got to say ; and you have told us nothing about birds, either, 

 you old elephant ; what do you mean by it ? That's right, Tim, 

 now bring in my cigars, and Mr. Forester's cheroots, and cold 

 iced water, and boiling-hot water, and sugar, out of my box, and 

 lemons. The shrub is here, and the Scotch whiskey ; will you 

 have another bottle of champagne, Tom ? No ! Well, then, 

 look sharp, Timothy, and send Jem in." 



And thereupon Jem entered, thumbing his hat assiduously, 

 and sat down in the corner, by the window, where he was 

 speedily accommodated with a supply of liquor, enough to tem- 

 per any quantity of clay. 



