WARWICK WOOPLANDS. 93 



the inside rails of the front seat and body, while about 

 thirty hares dangled by their hind legs, with their long 

 ears flapping to and fro, from the back seat and baggage 

 racl<. The wagon looked, I scarce know how, something 

 between an (English stage-coach when the merry days of 

 Christmas are at hand, and a game-hunter's taxed cart. 



The business of re-packing had been scarce accom- 

 plished, and Harry and myself had just retired to change 

 our shooting-jackets and coarse fustians for habiliments 

 more suitable for the day and our destination — iNew York, 

 to-wit, and Svuiday — when forth came Tom, bedizened 

 from top to toe in his most new and knowing rig, and 

 looking now, to do him justice, a most respectable and 

 portly yeoman. 



A broad-brimmed, low-crowned, and long-napped white 

 hat. set forth assuredly to the best advantage his rotund, 

 rubicund, good-humored phiz ; a clean white handkerchief 

 circled his sturdy neck, on the voluminous folds of which 

 reposed in placid dignity the mighty collops of his double 

 chin. A bright canary waistcoat of imported kerseymere, 

 with vast mother-of-pearl buttons, and a broad-skirted 

 coat of bright bine cloth, with glittering brass buttons 

 half the size of dollars, covered his upper man, while loose 

 drab trousers of stout double-milled, and a pair of well- 

 blacked boots, completed his attire; so that he looked as 

 different an animal as possible, from the unwashed, un- 

 combed, half -naked creature he presented, when lounging 

 in his bar-room in his every-day apparel. 



''Why, halloa, Guts!" cried Archer, as he entered, 

 "you've broken out here in a new place altogether." 



"Now quit, you, callin of me Outs," responded Tom, 

 more testily than I had ever heard him speak to Harry, 

 whose every whim and frolic he seemed religiously to ven- 

 erate and humor; "a fellow doesn't want to have it 'Guts' 

 here, and 'Guts' there, over half a county. Why, now, it 

 was but a week since, while 'lections was a goin' on, I 

 got a letter from some d — d chaps to Newburg — 'Rouse 

 about now, old Guts, yovi'll need it this election' " 



"Ha ! ha ! ha !" shouted Harry and I almost simultane- 

 ously, delighted at Tom's evident annoyance. 



"Who wrote it, Tom?" 



"That's what I'd jist give fifty dollars to know now," 

 replied mine host, clinching his mighty paw. 



