ds, perhaps, from the tavern piazza.

We had supper and were about to go to bed, when in came three fellows
who had driven up from the city, on their way to hunt moose in
Batchelder's Grant. All three were in a hilarious mood; they called for
supper, and said that they meant to drive on to Ricker's Tavern, at the
Poland Spring.

There was a lively fire on the hearth, for the night was cold and windy;
the newcomers stood in front of it--while Addison and I sat back,
looking on. The cause of their boisterousness was quite apparent; they
were plentifully supplied with whiskey. Then, as now, the "Maine law"
prohibited the sale of intoxicants; but this happened to be one of the
numerous periods when the authorities were lax in enforcing the law.

Soon one of the newly arrived moose hunters drew out a large flask, from
which all three drank. Turning to us, he cried, "Step up, boys, and take
a nip!" Addison thanked him, but said that we were just going to bed.

"Oh, you'll sleep all the warmer for it. Come, take a swig with us."

We made no move to accept the invitation.

"Aw, you're temperance, are you?" one of the three exclaimed. "Nice
little temperance lads!"

"Yes," Addison said, laughing. "But that's all right. We thank you just
the same."

The three stood regarding us in an ugly mood, ready to quarrel. "If
there's anything I hate," one of them remarked with a sneer, "it's a
young fellow who's too much a mollycoddle to take a drink with a friend,
and too stingy to pay for one."

We made no reply, and he continued to vent offensive remarks. The
landlord came in, and Addison asked him to show us to our room. The
hilarious trio called out insultingly to us as we ascended the stairs,
and when the hotel keeper went down, we heard them asking him who we
were and what our lofty load consisted of.

Half an hour or more later, we heard the moose hunters drive off,
shouting uproariously; hardly three minutes afterward there was a sudden
alarm below, and the window of our room was illuminated with a ruddy
light.

"Fire! The place is afire!" Addison exclaimed.

We jumped up and looked out. The whole yard was brilliantly illuminated;
then we saw that our load by the garden fence was on fire, and burning
fiercely.

Throwing on a few clothes, we rushed downstairs. The hotel keeper and
his hostler were already out with buckets of water, but could do little.
The load was ablaze, and those dry, pitchy witches' brooms flame