A BUSINESS DAY AT CHEE-HA. 



A FIG for the sportsman, who will only converse 

 with you in the " King Cambyses vein !" who is 

 dumb, unless he boast of some magnificent sport, or 

 some unequalled exploit ! I have already told you, 

 gentle reader, somewhat of my successes ; shall I 

 misjudge you, if I suppose that the recital of an 

 occasional failure may prove almost as grateful ? 



It was the end of October. The first light frosts 

 had fallen. The demons of pestilence, that for six 

 months had rioted undisturbed in the dank vapors of 

 our campagna ; nipped by the northern blasts, now 

 flapped their wings in dismay, and boomed off for 

 the congenial fens of the remoter South. The 

 planters who had intrenched themselves, all the 

 while, in towns and villages against the assaults of 

 their invisible but deadly foe, now rushed joyfully 

 forth (like men from a beleaguered city on the 

 withdrawal of the enemy) to revisit their forsaken 

 plantations. I, among the rest, was preparing for 

 my first visit to Chee-Ha. It was a visit of inspec- 

 tion of "business to see how my interest had fared 



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