"What are ye lazin' here about!" he shouted, "you're niver ready no how.
Jem's been agone these two hours, and we'll jest be too late, and miss
gittin' a shot--if so be there be a buck--which I'll be sworn there
arn't!"
"Ha! ha!" the Commodore burst out; "ha! ha! ha! I should like to know
which side the laziness has been on this morning, Mister Draw."
"On little wax skin's there," answered the old man, as quick as
lightning; "the little snoopin' critter carn't find his gloves now;
though the nags is at the door, and we all ready. We'll drink, boys,
while he's lookin' arter 'em--and then when he's found them, and's jest
a gittin' on his horse, he'll find he's left his powder-horn or knife,
or somethin' else, behind him; and then we'll drink agin, while he
snoops back to fetch it."
"You be hanged, you old rascal," replied Forester, a little bothered by
the huge shouts of laughter which followed this most strictly accurate
account of his accustomed method of proceeding; an account which, by the
way, was fully justified not twenty minutes afterward, by his galloping
back, neck or nothing, to get his pocket handkerchief, which he had left
"in course," as Tom said, in his dressing-gown beside the fire.
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