A MERRY CHARIOTEER. 205 
a regular Tom Draw) would not allow us to alight, insist- 
ing that we must go first to our intended sporting-ground. 
About forty minutes took us there, our charioteer beguil- 
ing the time with innumerable anecdotes and songs, never 
being silent for a moment. One ditty he was particularly 
attached to, which I can scarcely forget, he having sung it 
at least a dozen times: 
‘¢ My health and wealth declining, 
The doctor was called in; 
He spoke to me so serious— 
He spoke to me so plain— 
‘You've racked your constitution 
By getting drunk again.’” 
However, the warning that the medical attendant appears 
to have given him seemed to be thrown away, for he drank 
more spirits, with more gusto, and that without showing 
the effect, than any representative of the genus I ever pre- 
viously met. 
Arriving on the ground, we determined to hunt Beau 
and Belle, and keep Jock and Fan for the afternoon. Leav- 
ing our wagon by the side of an Osage orange hedge sepa- 
rating the prairie from a large corn-field, and, having insert- 
ed cartridges in each barrel, we commenced work. The 
ground we intended first beating was rolling prairie, with 
a sufficiency of grass on it to make the walking good, and 
the cover tolerable. My companions and self stretched 
into line and started with the wind in our faces. Before 
progressing a’ hundred yards Belle set dead as a statue, 
and Beau immediately backed. Steadily we walked up to 
the dogs, expecting immediately to commence fire upon a 
pack of grouse; but what was our disappointment to find 
that the dogs were standing to a covey of partridge scarce- 
ly half-grown; so we let the young ones go without mo- 
lestation, and continued our range. Our previous forbear- 
