on, the gray-headed butler, bearing in each
hand a goblet, in form like an acorn, and fashioned of the dark polished
oak of the far-famed Spirits-Blasted Tree,[7] richly ornamented with
appropriate silver emblems. One of these was placed reversed by the side
of the president and _croupier_ of each table, and presently afterwards
flanked by a huge silver tankard of foaming ale, strong enough almost to
blow into the air a first-rate man-of-war. Filling this goblet, which
held very nearly a pint, the president made his speech to the health and
happiness of the young 'squire, and draining it dry, passed it on to his
left-hand neighbour. The _croupier_ did the same, and like the great
bear of Bradwardine, did the acorn of Nannau begin to make its rounds,
in a manner quite as fearful to me as was the terrific approach of the
bear aforesaid to the heir of Waverley Honor. Unfortunately for me, I
sat between two determined and well-seasoned topers, who took especial
care that I should not only fill to each toast, but drain the cup to
the very bottom; so that, novice as I was in this sort of hilarity, I
found myself, in a very short time, lying down under a laburnum tree
in the lawn, and composing myself very comfortably--no, not _very_
comfortably--to sleep. I had my sleep, however; and when I awoke and
re-entered the house, a merry group of guests had surrounded the harper
in the hall, and were singing Penillion at full stretch, to the now
unsteady and somewhat discordant accompaniment of the minstrel; the
laugh was of course against me, but good-nature, rather than contempt,
characterised the bantering, and I bore it all in good part. The party
broke up about eleven, and before midnight I was at home, after a
magnificent walk of three miles, over the mountains, in the moonlight.
_The Inspector._

[7] This was an old blasted oak, standing a few years ago in Nannau
Park, to the infinite horrification of the honest mountaineers.
Tradition had imbued it with a terrible and awful influence--for,
some four or five hundred years ago, the gigantic skeleton of a
warrior was found incased in its trunk, and grasping with its
bony fingers a long and ponderous sword. It was blown down one
stormy night, and the wood has been manufactured into a variety
of articles.

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THE SELECTOR, AND LITERARY NOTICES OF _NEW WORKS_.

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