WARWICK WOODLANDS. r>l 



"Frank," exclaimed Harry, as I entered, "I make you 

 know Mr. McTaggart, better known hereabouts as the 

 Flying Dutchman, though how he came by a Scotch name 

 I can't pretend to say; he keeps the best quarter horses, 

 and plays the best hand of whist in the country ; and now, 

 get yourself clean as quick as possible, for Tom never 

 gives one five minutes wherein to dress himself ; so bustle." 



And off he went as he had finished speaking, and I 

 shaking my new friend cordially by an exceeding bony 

 unwashed paw, incontinently followed his example — and 

 in good time I did so; for I had scarcely changed my 

 shooting boots and wet worsteds for slippers and silk socks, 

 before my door, as usual, was lounged open by Tom's 

 massy foot, and I was thus exhorted. 



"Come, come, your supper's gittin' cold; I never see 

 such men as you and Archer is; you're wash, wash, wash 

 — all day. It's little water enough that you use any other 

 ways." 



"Why, is there any other use for water, Tom ?" I asked, 

 simply enough. 



"It's lucky if there aint, any how — leastwise, where you 

 and Archer is — else you'd leave none for the rest of us. 

 It's a good thing you han't thought of washing your 

 darned stinking hides in rum — you will be at it some of 

 these odd days, I warrant me — why now, McTaggart, it's 

 only yesterday I caught Archer up stairs, a fiddling away 

 up there at his teeth with a little ivory bnish; brushing 

 them with cold water — cleaning them he calls it. Cuss all 

 such trash, says I." 



While I was listening in mute astonishment, wondering 

 whether in truth the old savage never cleaned his teeth. 

 Archer made his appearance, and to a better supper never 

 did I sit down, than was spread at the old round table, in 

 such profusion as might have well sufficed to feed a troop 

 of horse. 



"What have we got here, Tom?" cried Harry, as he 

 took the head of the social board; "quail-pie, by George — 

 are there any peppers in it Tom?" 



"Sartain there is," replied that worthy, "and a prime 

 rumpsteak in the bottom, and some first-best salt pork, 

 chopped fine, and three small onions; like little Wax-skin 

 used to fijc them, when he was up here last fall." 



"Take some of this pie, Frank;" said Archer, as he 



