242 



WILD SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



I suspect there was not a healthier, and I will swear not a 

 happier, trio in the King's dominion. It was just the 

 scene a Flemish artist would select to employ his pencil 

 on. For effect, the light was excellent : the candles 

 having been removed to the extremity of the apartment, 

 the bacchanalian group were revealed by the red and 

 mellow blaze of a brilliant wood-fire. Separated by 

 a table, provided with every requisite for a deep carouse, 

 sat the soldier and the churchman. The back of the 

 latter was turned to the window, but his amplitude of 

 shoulder and bull-neck at once bespoke the strength 

 for which he was remarkable, while the partial baldness 

 of his head told that he had passed life's meridian. The 

 tall and martial figure opposite contrasted well with the 

 churchman's. Older by some half -score years, he 

 might, like Jack Falstaff, be " some fifty, ay, or, by the 

 mass, threescore ! " but his age was green ; and not- 

 withstanding the wear and tear that a military life and 

 its occasional excesses had caused, his cheerful coun- 

 tenance and merry eye showed that he loved yet to hear 

 " the chimes at midnight." The otter-killer com- 

 pleted the group : sitting on a low stool, from time to 

 time he regulated and supplied the wood-fire ; his 

 silver hair collected in a long cue, seal-skin pouch, 

 singular dress, and venerable air, made him the most 

 striking figure of the party. A little terrier bitch, who 

 never left her master, lay at the old man's feet, while 

 an indulged black setter luxuriated before the blaze, with 

 his intelligent head and pendulous silky ears rested 

 on the Colonel's knee. 



" Is not that indeed a picture ? " whispered my 

 cousin. " What heads they have ? John placed 

 yonder bottle before them as I went out, and two parts 



