2G6 EEMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN. 



but cliest, head, and feet were bare, and nij^ped by 

 the wind and frost to an inflammatory blue and fer- 

 ruginous brown. Jumping up, I oj^ened the door 

 and called him back : he came Avith indistinct or con- 

 fused notions of charity or the cage. " Come in," I 

 said, "my good fellow:" he obeyed me. " Come on," 

 was the next bidding ; and then our conversation, kept 

 up as it had been only on one side, terminated by my 

 pointing to the vacant chimney corner by my little 

 table, — to the considerable growling of Jessie and 

 astonishment of mine hostess, — into that seat the poor 

 Negro mechanically fell. " Noav, then, Mrs. Carey, 

 another pot of hot stufi:' like mine, and some bread and 

 cheese for my guest." It was brought, and I bade him 

 do justice to it. The poor fellow's mute astonishment 

 at this change in his prospects, the reverse so sudden 

 and fortunate, seemed to strike him dumb. I don't think 

 he could speak ; but he soon began to rub his hands 

 at the iire, and, to use a very expressive phrase, to 

 pitch into the viands, sipping his hot brew with the 

 most humble, but thankful, satisfaction, mine hostess 

 waiting on him with all the civility in the world — 

 seeing that I was to pay, — and Jessie, in her turn, 

 begging of him a piece of his cheese. God forgive 

 me for many a harsh word I have hastily spoken in 

 my life to a poor man ; the food I gave this Negro 

 was no atonement for it on my part, for I do not hesi- 

 tate to say that I had as much pleasure or more in 

 watching this houseless, lonely, and famished man 

 eating heartily and kindly treated, when most he 

 needed it and least expected it, than I had in the 

 day's wild-fowl sliooting that was to come. It cost 

 me but little, indeed I had not much to give ; but, 

 reader, believe me when I say the shilling so laid out 



