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TALES OF MY LANDLORD.
CHAPTER IX.
With throat unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard him call;
Gramercy they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in
As they had been drinking all.
Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner."
Hayston of Bucklaw was one of the thoughtless class who never hesitate between their friend and their jest. When it was announced that the principal persons of the chace had taken their route towards Wolf's Crag, the huntsmen, as a point of civility, offered to transfer the venison to that mansion, a proffer which was readily accepted by Bucklaw, who thought much of the astonishment which their arrival in full body would occasion poor old Caleb Balderstone, and very little of the dilemma to which he
