here to find, then?" said Winthrop.

"Room for my carpet-bag, in the first place; and a pair of
slippers, and comfort. It's stinging weather, Governor!"

"I know it. I came down the river the night before last."

"I shouldn't think you knew it, for you've let your fire go
down confoundedly. Why Winthrop! there's hardly a spark here!
What have you been thinking about?"

"I was kindling the fire, mentally," said Winthrop.

"Mentally! -- where's your kindling? -- I can tell you! -- if you
had been out in this air you'd want some breath of material
flame, before you could set any other agoing. And I am afraid
_this_ isn't enough -- or won't be, -- I want some fuel for
another sort of internal combustion -- some of my Scotchman's
haggis."

And Rufus stopped to laugh, with a very funny face, in the
midst of his piling chips and brands together.

"Haggis?" said Winthrop.

"Yes. -- There was a good fellow of a Scotchman in the stage
with me last night -- he had the seat just behind me -- and he
and a brother Scotchman were discoursing valiantly of old
world things; warming themselves up with the recollection. --
Winthrop, have you got a bit of paper here? -- And I heard the
word 'haggis' over and over again, --'haggis' and 'parritch.'
At last I turned round gravely -- 'Pray sir,' said I, 'what _is_
a haggis?' 'Weel, sir,' said he good-humouredly, -- 'I don't
just know the ingredients -- it's made of meal, -- and onions, I
believe, --and other combustibles!!' -- Winthrop, have you got
any breakfast in the house?"

"Not much in the combustible line, I am afraid," said
Winthrop, putting up his books and going to the closet.

"Well if you can enact Mother Hubbard and 'give a poor dog a
bone,' I shall be thankful, -- for anything."

"I am afraid hunger has perverted your memory," said Winthrop.

"How?"

"If the cupboard should play its part now, the dog would go
without any."

"O you'll do better for me than that, I hope," said Rufus;
"for I couldn't go on enacting the dog's part long; he took to
laughing, if I remember, and I should be beyond that
directly."

"Does that ever happen?" said Winthrop, as he brought out of
the cupboard his bits of stores; a plate with the end of a
loaf of bread, a little pitcher of milk, and another plate
with some remains of cold beefsteak. For all reply, Rufus
seized upon a piece of bread, to begin with, and thrusting a
fork into the beefsteak, he held it in front of the just-