EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 97 



which, for they both waited well on their father — 

 appeared, with " Did you call, father ? " " Call ! " 

 rejoined the old man, " of course I did ; here, you 

 go down stairs and bring up one o' those bottles that's 

 in the cupboard in my room." " Port wine, father ? " 

 asked the handmaiden. " No, no, no ! " said the old 

 man, " not port wine, I had my glass o' port wine after 

 dinner; one o' those long bottles that Mr. So-and-so 

 sent me, you know." " Oh ! " said the girl, " cham- 

 pagne ? " " Yes," rejoined the old man, " that's the 

 stuff — bum the long words ; 'tis the last day o' 



hunting, and Mr. G and me is a going to drink 



the toast." "Now, old friend," I broke in, "don't 

 go opening a bottle of champagne for me. You forget 

 I have not had my dinner yet, and we can't drink a 

 bottle of champagne now ; have a glass of port wine." 

 The old huntsman's face grew stern, and looking 

 earnestly towards me, as if he saw me, came out, 

 " I beg your pardon, sir, but / am hunting the hounds 

 now. What's the use of your friends sending cham- 

 pagne if you ain't to drink it ? You'll be pleased to 

 sit still, and we will have a bottle on this the last day 

 of the season ; and I hope it won't be the last with 

 you, by a good many. / sha'n't never go a hunting no 

 more, but we will drink ' Fox hunting,' blest if we 

 don't." The champagne was opened, a part of it 



H 



