'
Come along!"

Bent moved towards the saloon, and we all followed, _nemine
dissentiente_.

The spring season was setting in, and the young mint had sprouted--a
botanical fact with which my new acquaintances appeared to be familiar,
as one and all of them ordered a mint julep. This beverage, in the
mixing and drinking, occupied our time until the second scream of the
gong summoned us to dinner.

"Sit with us, Mr Haller," said Bent; "I am sorry we didn't know you
sooner. You have been lonely."

And so saying, he led the way into the dining-room, followed by his
companions and myself.

I need not describe a dinner at the "Planters'," with its venison
steaks, its buffalo tongues, its prairie chickens, and its delicious
frog fixings from the Illinois "bottom." No; I would not describe the
dinner, and what followed I am afraid I could not.

We sat until we had the table to ourselves. Then the cloth was removed,
and we commenced smoking regalias and drinking madeira at twelve dollars
a bottle! This was ordered in by someone, not in single bottles, but by
the half-dozen. I remembered thus far well enough; and that, whenever I
took up a wine-card, or a pencil, these articles were snatched out of my
fingers.

I remember listening to stories of wild adventures among the Pawnees,
and the Comanches, and the Blackfeet, until I was filled with interest,
and became enthusiastic about prairie life. Then someone asked me,
would I not like to join them in "a trip"? Upon this I made a speech,
and proposed to accompany my new acquaintances on their next expedition:
and then Saint Vrain said I was just the man for their life; and this
pleased me highly. Then someone sang a Spanish song, with a guitar, I
think, and someone else danced an Indian war-dance; and then we all rose
to our feet, and chorused the "Star-spangled Banner"; and I remember
nothing else after this, until next morning, when I remember well that I
awoke with a splitting headache.

I had hardly time to reflect on my previous night's folly, when the door
opened, and Saint Vrain, with half a dozen of my table companions,
rushed into the room. They were followed by a waiter, who carried
several large glasses topped with ice, and filled with a pale
amber-coloured liquid.

"A sherry cobbler, Mr Haller," cried one; "best thing in the world for
you: drain it, my boy. It'll cool you in a squirrel's jump."

I drank off the refreshing beverage as desired.

"