218 AMERICAN GAME. 



down, and I hadn't got no guide to go by, so I let him 

 go then, but I was up next mornin' bright and airly, 

 and started up the stream clean from the bridge here, 

 up through Garry's back-side, and my bog-hole, and so 

 on along the meadows to Aunt Sally's run and looked 

 in every willow bush that dammed the waters back, 

 like, and every bunch of weeds and brier-brake, all the 

 way, and sure enough I found him, he'd been killed 

 dead, and floated down the crick, and then the stream 

 had washed him up into a heap of broken sticks and 

 briers, and when the waters fell, for there had been a 

 little freshet, they left him there breast uppermost and 

 I was glad to find him for I think, Archer, as that shot 

 was the nicest, prettiest, etarnal, darndest, long, good 

 shot, I iver did make, anyhow ; and it was so dark I 

 could n't see him." 



Many of his friends and mine will recognize the char- 

 acter, to whom I allude, as he figures largely in the 

 pages of " The Warwick "Woodlands," from which the 

 above extract is taken, of " My Shooting-box," and the 

 other sporting scenes of Frank Forester, wherein nothing 

 good or generous or kind is related of Tom Draw, that 

 does not fall far short of the. reality. 



Before closing this article, I will correct an error into 

 which I perceive I have inadvertently fallen in the first 

 page of it, wherein I said that this duck, alone of the 

 family, has the habit of perching, roosting, and nesting 

 on trees. 



