yellow beard, which smothered all the other glories of his siognomy. He was attired in a coarse doublet and hose of b crimson, which, with his long crooked arms, and short gave him something of the look of a boiled lobster. worthy seated himself upon a stone, at the head of the pros prisoner, amusing himself in an infantine and guileless ma by tickling the victim's nose with the point of his long hu knife. His master, in the mean time, was exchanging gree with the other Englishman who had just stepped upon beach.

"Well, Master Walford," he cried, "a sight of you is as as the sight of the sun in this perverse New England A What brought you to the cove?"

"My skiff," returned the other, sententiously.

"See what it is to live by oneself in the forest. Your brought your tongue, as well as yourself, I suppose; or is it frozen up, like a dead reindeer's, with the rest of your w provisions, at Mishawum?"

"To say the truth, Master Morton," said the smith, "I floated down with the tide to look in upon Sir Christopher, morning, to see if he had returned from his expedition to psalm singers. If I had not met you and your moose by way, perhaps I should have extended my voyage as far as Merry Mountain, as you call it."

"Come when you like, and as often as you like," cried other; "with your tongue, or without it you shall alway welcome. We will rub off the rust from it I warrant you. shall find it run more glibly when oiled with a drop of rosa solis. And that reminds me," said he, interrupting self, while he filled a little tin can from a hunting flask in pouch, and presented it to his companion- "Drink a dro his own nectar to salute the orb of day; 't is not often that have seen the one or the other of late." The smith, not

loth, pledged his jovial companion, who continued, as he refilled the cup for himself-"To our better friendship, Master Walford, and trusting you may find more jolly companions than your friends the wolves, ere another spring cuts our throats with her double-edged east winds. But I wrong yon sweet southwestern zephyrs, breathing upon me so wooingly," cried he, taking off his cap, and snuffing the air with affected ecstasy.

"Frigora mitescunt Zephyris - ver proterit æstas,' as our friend Horatius Flaccus hath it; ah! I beg your pardon, you have no acquaintance with Horatius Flaccus."

"Never met the gentleman in my life," returned the smith; "but a Pokanoket I should think, by his language. I never could make head or tail of their lingo in my life."

"A Pokanoket! Hear him not, shade of the laurelled bard of soft Venusia! A Pokanoket! a Roman thou eremite Vulcan ! A Roman, thou two-fold anchorite, in that thou art both solitary and a forger of anchors!"

"And good anchors too; aye, and picks and spades; no better in all New England, Master Morton," cried the burly smith, somewhat nettled at this storm of hard names, which his classical companion was rattling like hail upon his head.

"Shall I slit his weasand, your worship," said the contemplative Bootefish, towards whom the two had now approached, and who still remained in his reposing attitude by the side of his prisoner. "It would make him comfortable, I think. He seems impatient to have it done. His eye says, as plain as mortal tongue could speak, 'Robert Bootefish, no more words, but slit my wizen and have done with it.'

"Slit his weasand! if you do I'll slit your nose," cried Morton; "and yet that pure and perfect carbuncle should remain, an indivisible gem forever. But stay! The blessings of Flora upon your head -the softest plume from the wing of Zephyrus for your velvet cheek."

These latter invocations were not showered by the classical Morton, as it might seem, upon the head and velvet cheek of his henchman Bootefish, but were intended solely for the benefit of the slender youth, who, finding the party holding, as it were, a court martial upon their sylvan prisoner, had advanced towards them to advocate his cause.

"Good morrow, Master Morton; and good morrow to you, Master Walford. I have been waiting impatiently for you to find the way from the beach to the cottage, but you have apparently found matter more important."

"Your knightly cousin, Sir Christopher, is he returned from our Puritanical friends of the nether bay?" asked Morton, as he took off his cap and made a fantastic, half jocular salute to the stripling.

"Sir Christopher has not yet found his way back," answered the youth, "but I think the first shot fired was from his gun. I think I should know its crack among a thousand, though I suppose you will hold that a foolish fancy. At any rate, I claim the game as lawful prize."

"'T is yours before you ask it.”

Then, thus do I take possession of my prize;" and with this the youth bounded forward and snatched the knife from the hands of Bootefish. That worthy individual looked on with profound astonishment, while the lad rapidly cut the cords which bound the feet of the prisoner, and then clapped his hands, and uttered a musical halloo, as the animal, freed from his bondage, sprang to his feet, tossed his branched head high in air, and with a mighty bound disappeared in the thick recesses of the forest.

"You are quite right, Signor Jaspar," said Morton; "I assure you that no true lover of the gentle craft but would have done as you have done. 'Tis murder to shoot a buck so out of season."

"And I am ashamed that the worshipful Master Morton, Lord of Misrule and Sachem of Merry-Mount, should have been obliged to receive a rebuke from one wholly a tyro in the science," answered Jaspar "but stay; I hear a footstep in the thicket." And with the graceful bound of a panther, he flew towards the wood.

CHAPTER II.

THE LORD OF MERRY-MOUNT.

DURING Jaspar's absence, the others seated themselves posedly upon the rocks near the shore.

The first comer, Thomas Morton, was a man of mi height, and might have numbered some forty years. features were regular, his hazel eye was large and lauş his complexion fair but sunburned, his hair and beard au His mustachios were curled upwards, and his long love were arranged with the coquetry of a man, who, even i wilderness, seemed to value the graces of his person. Hi knit figure was arrayed in a buff colored jerkin, with sl sleeves, buttoned to the throat, and surmounted with a ruff. Dark colored trunk hose and boots of tawny le completed his dress. In his girdle he wore a long she knife, with his other hunting accoutrements, and in the h of his arm the fowling piece which had been so merciful departed moose. His companion, Thomas Walford, was burly fellow, somewhat younger than himself, conside more than six feet in height, with a swart complexion and features, which were redeemed by a frank and manly e sion. He was carelessly dressed in a hunting shirt and leg of deerskin, and in his whole appearance presented a m contrast to his friend.

Thomas Morton, who was a prominent actor in the ver history which I have to relate, was a gentleman by birt education. His father, an officer in the English army served with some distinction in the auxiliary legions und banner of Henry of Navarre, and losing his life on the