were pictures of horses and bulls that had won prizes at the Worcester Cattle Show. Certain parts of the bar room were much distained with tobacco juice; while beneath the stove grate there lay a heap of cigar ends, and other soft projectiles common to such taverns. And these, with a bench and a few reed bottomed chairs, made up the furniture. In one of these chairs, a lean and somewhat shabbily clad man sat, his feet upon the rounds, his body thrown back against the wall, his face half buried in a slouch hat, and apparently dozing, but really keeping a watchful eye upon every movement in the room. The landlord, whose round face was lit up with a mischievous laugh, said he would bet his new frock coat, which had brass buttons and a velvet collar, and his white trowsers, and even his ruffle shirt, that the major had made a successful trip, and would do the generous without more ado. The bystanders said it would be only right that a person who had witnessed so many proofs of his own popularity as the major had done should pay the forfeit he had incurred by calling on such good beverages as the host was celebrated for affording his guests. The major placed the fore finger of his right hand to his lip, cast a look of inquiry at the bystanders, and then said he knew it would be no easy matter to apologize to ladies for so singular a transgression, but how his treating could extenuate an insult offered to another party, he could not exactly see. "By my word as a man of standing, I have spent much sweat and labor in getting the little Fortune has favored me with, and it seems to me that he who needs it most had better quench his thirst with what remains in his own pocket!" spoke the major, giving his head a toss, and edging aside from his importuners. The landlord replied, that as the major had brought him a distinguished guest, he should claim the right to do the hospitalities of his own house, and this he held the more incumbent, as the major was returned from so long an absence. But in obedience to the spirit of temperance that ruled in the village, and was so rigid in its exactions, that it kept Captain Jack Laythe, the man who dozed in the chair, a spy over his counter, he could give them nothing but cider and mead. Indeed the whole town had gone into such exceedingly steady habits, that if an old friend chanced that way, and took it into his head that a drop of heavy would do him no harm, he was forced to wink him down into the cellar, and relieve his wants in a little out of the way place, for even the smell of whiskey upon the tumblers was set down as proof of guilt sufficient to call a town meeting.