There was one person in the room, however, who had no thought or feeling in common with the rest of those present, but who did not appear to be deemed by them of sufficient consequence to be interrogated in relation to his opinions, or of sufficient capacity to comprehend what was said in his presence, at least not to any degree which might render it unsafe that he should hear the discussion so unreservedly going forward. This person, who was acting in the capacity of waiter to the company, being under a temporary engagement to the master of the house, to serve him in such work as might be wanted about the house and stables, was a youth, of perhaps eighteen, of quite an ordinary, and even singular appearance. His figure was low and slight, and he was made to appear the more diminutive, perhaps, by his dress, which consisted of short trousers, a long, coarse jacket, and a flat woollen cap, drawn down to the eyebrows. His hair, hanging, in lank locks, to his shoulders, was light and sandy, and his face was deeply freckled; while a pair of long, falling eyelashes contributed to add still further to the peculiarity of his looks, and to give his countenance, with those who did not note the keen, bright orbs that occasionally peeped from their usually impenetrable coverts, a sleepy and listless appearance. He now sat on the top of a high wood-box, placed near one corner of the chimney, with his legs dangling over one end of the box, and his head drooping sluggishly towards the fire, apparently as unconscious of what was said and done in the room, as the little black dog that lay sleeping on the floor beneath his feet. “Here, Bart,” exclaimed Brush, as the company, having dropped the discussion of all weighty matters, were now briskly circulating the bottle, and beginning to give way to noisy merriment--“here, Bart, you sleepy devil, come and snuff these candles. Our chap here,” he continued, winking archly to those around him--“our chap Bart, or Barty Burt, to give the whole of his euphonious name, gentlemen, may be considered an excellent specimen of the rebel party, who talk so wisely about self-government, sitting under one's own vine and fig-tree, and all that sort of thing; for; in the first place, he has a great deal of wisdom, handy to be got at, it all lying in his face. And then he is so much for self-government that no one can govern him in anything. Then again, as to the idea of sitting under a fig-tree, I think it is one that Bart would most naturally entertain; for had he a tree to sit under, be it fig or bass-wood, and enough to eat, he would sit there till he was gray, before he would think of moving.”