s, and with a sudden whirl
brought it down upon the head of the unlucky officer. Stunned by the
squashing blow, astounded and blinded with streams of gravy and wads of
stuffing, he attempted to rise, but blow after blow from the fat pig
fell upon his bewildered head. He seized a carving-knife and attempted
to defend himself with blind but ineffectual fury, and at length, with a
desperate effort, rose and took to his heels. Dick Hardy, whose wrath
waxed hotter and hotter, followed, belaboring him unmercifully at every
step, around the table, through the hall, and into the street, the crowd
shouting and applauding.

We are sorry to learn that among this crowd were lawyers, sheriffs,
magistrates, and constables; and that even his honor the judge,
forgetting his dignity and position, shouted in a loud voice, "Give it
to him, Dick Hardy! There's no law in Christendom against basting a man
with a roast pig!" Dick's weapon failed before his anger; and when at
length the battered colonel escaped into the door of a friendly
dwelling, the victor had nothing in his hands but the hind legs of the
roaster. He re-entered the dining-room flourishing these over his head,
and venting his still unappeased wrath in great oaths.

The company reassembled, and finished their dinner as best they might.
In reply to a toast, Hardy made a speech, wherein he apologized for
sacrificing the principal dinner-dish, and, as he expressed it, for
putting public property to private uses. In reply to this speech a treat
was ordered. In those good old days folks were not so virtuous but that
a man might have cakes and ale without being damned for it, and it is
presumable the day wound up with a spree.

After the squire got older, and a family grew up around him, he was not
always victorious in his contests. For example, a question lately arose
about the refurnishing of the house. On their return from a visit to
Richmond the ladies took it into their heads that the parlors looked
bare and old-fashioned, and it was decided by them in secret conclave
that a change was necessary.

"What!" said he, in a towering passion, "isn't it enough that you spend
your time and money in vinegar to sour sweet peaches, and your sugar to
sweeten crab-apples, that you must turn the house you were born in
topsy-turvy? God help us! we've a house with windows to let the light
in, and you want curtains to keep it out; we've plastered the walls to
make them white, and now you w