At this moment a summons to supper was heard, and the party adjourned to the camp-fire, to discuss the savory prairie-chicken and quail on toast, with which Mrs. Warlow celebrated the close of that Sabbath-day.
Chapter VII.
COLONEL WARLOW'S STORY—CONCLUDED.
An hour later the party sat under the drooping boughs of an elm, near thickets of snowy elder and blooming wild-roses, which filled all the air with their delicious fragrance; the shallow stream murmured and gurgled along between its willow-fringed banks, glimmering like silver under the beams of the rising moon.
At the request of the group, the colonel resumed, as follows:—
"When the wool had been allotted to the captains, in equal proportions, the leaders divided the company in two parties. It was understood that the side first finishing its task of picking the burrs and other foreign matter from the fleeces of wool, should crown its captain and carry her in triumph around the room on a chair; then she should be awarded the honor of opening the ball, which was to follow in the wide kitchen.
"Mary and I were the last to finish, but were helped through our task by several smiling friends. Then our captain—wild, saucy Peg Sickle—bounded up with the cry, 'Crown the captain!' which was re-echoed by her noisy followers, who proceeded, with ludicrous ceremony, to carry the order into execution.
"The violins struck up a lively air, and the gay Peg, wearing her towering head-dress of wool, led off in the inspiriting quadrille; but the lively dance was watched ruefully through the open doorway by the other party, who still were at their unfinished task; but our hilarity was interrupted by cries of—
"'Fraud!—Shame!—Peggy has been hiding the fleece!'