"The maple tree's a precious one,
'Tis fuel, food, and timber;
And when your stiff day's work is done,
Its juice will make you limber.
Then flow away, &c.
"And what's a man without his glass,
His wife without her tea, sir?
But neither cup nor mug would pass,
Without this honey-bee, sir!
Then flow away," &c.
During the execution of this sonorous ditty, Richard kept time with his whip on the mane of his charger, accompanying the gestures with a corresponding movement of his head and body. Towards the close of the song, he was overheard humming the chorus, and at its last repetition, to strike in at "sweety sap," and carry a second through, with a prodigious addition to the "effect" of the noise, if not to that of the harmony.
"Well done us!" roared the Sheriff, on the same key with the tune; "a very good song, Billy Kirby, and very well sung. Where got you the words, lad? is there more of it, and can you furnish me with a copy?"
The sugar-boiler, who was busy in his "camp," at a short distance from the equestrians, turned his head with great indifference, and surveyed the party, as they approached, with admirable coolness. To each individual, as he or she rode close by him, he gave a nod that was extremely good-natured and affable, but which partook largely of the virtue of equality, for not even to the ladies did he in the least vary his mode of salutation, by touching the apology for a hat that he wore, or by any other motion than the one we have mentioned.
"How goes it, how goes it, Sheriff?" said the wood -chopper; "what's the good word to-day?"
