THE WARWICK WOODLANDS 



ON A SECOND VISIT 



THE WAYSIDE INN. 



On a atiU clear October evening, Frank Forester and 

 Harry Archer were sitting at the open window of a neat 

 country tavern, in a sequestered nook of Rockland County, 

 looking out upon as beautiful a view as ever gladdened the 

 eyes of wandering amateur or artist. 



The house was a large old-fashioned stone mansion, 

 certainly not of later date than the commencement of the 

 revolution ; and probably had been, in its better days, the 

 manor-house of some considerable proprietor — the windows 

 were of a form very unusual in the States, opening like 

 doors, with heavy wooden mullions and small lattices, 

 while the walls were so thick as to form a deep embrasure, 

 provided with a cushioned window-seat; the parlor, in 

 which the friends had taken up their temporary domicile, 

 contained two of these pleasant lounges, the larger looking 

 out due south upon the little garden, with the road before 

 it, and, beyond the road, a prospect, of which more anon — 

 the other commanding a space of smooth green turf in 

 front of the stables, whereon our old acquaintance, Timo- 

 thy, was leading to and fro a pair of smoking horses. The 

 dark green drag, with all its winter furniture of gaily 

 decorated bear-skins, stood half-seen beneath the low- 

 arched wagon-shed. 



The walls of the room — the best room of the tavern — 

 were panneUed with the dark glossy wood of the black 

 cherry, and a huge mantel-piece of the same material, took 

 up at least one- half of the side opposite the larger window, 

 while on the hearth below reposed a glowing bed of red- 



