Scarcely were the young amateur haymakers, who, by-the-by, were furnished with light forks and rakes suited to such delicate hands as those of the ladies—scarcely were all engaged in raking and throwing up the hay into wainrow under the generalship of George Woodburn, with much mutual merriment over one another’s awkwardness, and over Thorsby’s mercurial capers and flourishes—when a novel sight arrested their attention, and brought them all to a full stand. It was a long procession of the labourers, each carrying a dish, and marshalled and watched over by Betty Trapps. The men had finished their own dinners in the house, and were now, on the return to the field, made the bearers of the viands for the gentry. Clumsy as such Ganymedes might be supposed, they had in their time been often employed to carry eggs and young lambs, as well as most of them babies, and they executed their task without a single stumble; and soon, according to custom, a horn was sonorously blown at the tent-door to call the party to dinner. All came trooping in free array, like a happy flock of pigeons dropping down to their barley at the barndoor. There were no leadings-in of ladies, but all came laughing and chatting amongst each other, and found an excellent dinner awaiting them. I shall not chronicle the courses; my readers can imagine all sorts of delicacies, to which the merry troop, seating themselves without any regard to precedence, seemed ready to do ample justice. Somehow, however, Dr. Leroy happened to find his seat at the elbow of Miss Millicent Heritage, beaming with radiance of youth and beauty from beneath those jetty eye-lashes; Harry Thorsby, by an equal chance, sate close to Letty, whose fair, fresh, heart-lit features cast a sunshine round her; and George, the grave but genial George Woodburn, occupied a place betwixt Mr. and Mrs. Degge, to whom he could show all attention. Mr. Woodburn and Mrs. Heritage were neighbours, and seemed to have much of interest to talk of, in which Ann and her mother occasionally joined, but what they said could not be heard from the clatter of plates and youthful tongues in full play. Betty Trapps, and Tom Boddily, in his old soldier’s coat, waited on the company; and Sylvanus Crook, as something more than a servant, had a seat amongst the guests. No happier party ever dined under an oak in a tented field, as Thorsby called it. It was wonderful, too, to see the dexterity and ability with which Tom Boddily performed his office. Ever and anon Thorsby had a witty word with him, and Tom was never without his answer. “Where didst thou learn to serve at table so nicely?” asked Mrs. Heritage. “With my captain, madam.” “Oh! thou hast been in the army?” “Yes, madam, served fifteen years.” “And wast thou in any battles?” “Well, ma’am, I can’t say that I haven’t been in battles, but none where much powder was spent. I was in the militia.” “Oh! that was it. Thou never wast out of England?” “No, madam.” “And thy captain?”