He knows where the finest peppermint grows. 

 He knows the right jug in the cellar. 

 He knows his master is sure to exclaim, 

 Jim, I guess we will have one of them 

 Before we go in to our supper. 



Ill 



A NORTH CAROLINA FOX HUNT BY 

 MOONLIGHT 



THE MEET — A LITTLE GOSSIP ON THE WAY TO CO\TERT — BEFO' 



THE WAH JIM's ACCOUNT OF THE CHASE — OLD RASTUS 



THE GLORY OF OLD GINGER — A MINT JULEP. 



TIE AH comes Colonel Sackett," said Jim, sticking his head 

 '■■''■ in the sitting-room door, and we all went out on the 

 veranda to welcome him. There sat the Colonel on a beau- 

 tiful horse, the ideal picture of an army officer. He, like my 

 host, wore the conventional frock coat of the country, trousers 

 to match, no waistcoat, and a broad-brimmed soft hat. He sat 

 his beautiful horse to perfection. His full, grey beard gave 

 him a very venerable look. He was called Colonel, as many 

 other Southern gentlemen are, who look the role even if they 

 never won the Eagles which denote the rank. His real rank 

 during the war, which he entered as a private, was that of cap- 

 tain. However, "Colonel" fitted him better, as any one could 

 see, and "Colonel" he was. As the ladies join us, the Colonel 

 removes his hat, and remains uncovered, as the chivalry of 

 the country demands. 



At a respectable distance sat the Colonel's old servant. 



