"Bravo! old man; that's not bad," said Lord Dalhousie. "Your turn now, Ephraim," said the Chief, addressing Meyers, who, ignoring the remark, went on smoking. There was an embarrassing silence as all eyes rested on the withered-looking face of the Yankee, who was evidently not ready with his contribution to the entertainment of the evening. "Tell us about the squaw you found in the woods," suggested Christie. "Wal," he said, "onct upon a time when we were runnin' the fifth concession line with Theodore Davis, we found an ole squaw who had been deserted by her children and left to find her way to Davy Jones's locker as best she could. Her poor ole body was bent almost double. She seemed very weak. Her only clothing was rabbit-skins sewed together with sinews, with the hair side next her skin. She mumbled a lot of things which we could not understand. D'ye mind Brown, the feller with the squaw wife?" he said, addressing the chief. "Wal, he told us that she lived on hares which she snared with sinews, an' that she lived alone an kep' herself from freezin' in winter by settin' fire to the end of a fallen log, and as the ashes cooled enough she would scoop out a nest to lie in. As the log burned she would follow the warm ashes an' move her nest closer to the fire, an' when one log was burned she would kindle another. She managed in this way to keep body and soul together for years alone in the forest." "Is that true?" asked Colonel By, "or is it one of your Yankee yarns?" "I reckon ye can fine out for yourself," retorted Meyers. "It is quite true," said Bearie. "I have never seen her, but I know several who have." "Now, Michael, you told us a good story the other night. Could you not tell us another before we roll ourselves up in our blankets?" said the Governor. "Faith, an it's tirrible sorry I am that I'm not used to public shpaking, fur I cud tell yer Honor about Shparks an' the bear." "The best way to become a public speaker, Mike," said Lord Dalhousie, "is to have something to say, and just say it, so tell us your story." "Me and Shparks wuz in the blacksmith shop when Joe Wyman, the young shpalpeen, sez he, 'There's a bear in the river beyant.' "'Come on, byes,' sez Mr. Rug, 'we'll foller him up,' sez he. He took down the gun that hung on the wall forninst him, an I tuk a hand-shpike forninst me, an Shparks he went out forninst the blacksmith shop an filled the inside of his shirt wid shtones, regardliss of shape or forrum; an', yer Honor," he said, touching his hat, "before Shparks an' me cud raitch the shore Mr. Rug was in the canoe. We cud see the great brute swimmin' to the island, an' we put after him as quick as iver we cud, but before we cud raitch him he had consailed himsilf. We spint two hours in searching for the brute, an' Shparks, who is a very obsarvant man, sez he, 'Begorra! there he is, as sure as a gun, makin' shtraight for the cliff.'