nt. Doubtless they
are numerous and oft recurring; still they are transient, and so--supper
came to an end.

"Now for a pipe," said the accountant, disposing his limbs at full
length on a green blanket. "O thou precious weed, what should we do
without thee!"

"Smoke _tea_, to be sure," answered Harry.

"Ah! true, it _is_ possible to exist on a pipe of tea-leaves for a time,
but _only_ for a time. I tried it myself once, in desperation, when I
ran short of tobacco on a journey, and found it execrable, but better
than nothing."

"Pity we can't join you in that," remarked Harry.

"True; but perhaps since you cannot pipe, it might prove an agreeable
diversification to dance."

"Thank you, I'd rather not," said Harry; "and as for Hamilton, I'm
convinced that _his_ mind is made up on the subject.--How go the heels
now?"

"Thank you, pretty well," he replied, reclining his head on the pine
branches, and extending his smitten members towards the fire. "I think
they will be quite well in the morning."

"It is a curious thing," remarked the accountant, in a soliloquising
tone, "that _soft_ fellows _never_ smoke!"

"I beg your pardon," said Harry, "I've often seen hot loaves smoke, and
they're soft enough fellows, in all conscience!"

"Ah!" sighed the accountant, "that reminds me of poor Peterkin, who was
_so_ soft that he went by the name of `Butter.' Did you ever hear of
what he did the summer before last with an Indian's head?"

"No, never; what was it?"

"I'll tell you the story," replied the accountant, drawing a few
vigorous whiffs of smoke, to prevent his pipe going out while he spoke.

As the story in question, however, depicts a new phase of society in the
woods, it deserves a chapter to itself.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE ACCOUNTANT'S STORY.

"Spring had passed away, and York Fort was filled with all the bustle
and activity of summer. Brigades came pouring in upon us with furs from
the interior, and as every boat brought a CT or a clerk, our mess-table
began to overflow.

"You've not seen the summer mess-room filled yet, Hamilton. That's a
treat in store for you."

"It was pretty full last autumn, I think," suggested Hamilton, "at the
time I arrived from England."

"Full! why, man, it was getting to feel quite lonely at that time. I've
seen more than fifty sit down to table there, and it was worth going
fifty miles to hear the row they kicked up--telling stories without end
(and sometimes