Teddy grew boisterous, and insisted on constantly shaking hands and renewing his pledges of eternal friendship to the savage, who received and responded to them in turn.

Finally, he squinted toward the westering sun.
"I told Mr.Harvey, when I left, I was going to hunt, and if I expects to return to-day, I thinks, Mr.Black Walnut, we should be on our way.
The jug is intirely impty, so there is no occasion for us to remain longer." "Dat so--me leave him here." "Now let's shake hands agin afore we rise." The shaking of hands was all an excuse for Teddy to receive assistance in rising to his feet.

He balanced himself a moment, and stared around him, with that aimless, blinking stare peculiar to a drunken man.
"Me honey, isn't there an airthquake agitatin' this solitude ?" he asked, steadying himself against a sapling, "or am I standing on a jug ?" "Dunno--mebbe woods shake--feel him a little--earth must be sick," said the savage, feigning an unsteadiness of the head.
"Begorrah, but it's ourselves that's the sickest," laughed Teddy, fully sensible of his sad condition.

"It'll niver do to return to Master Harvey in _this_ shtyle.

There'd be a committee of investigation appointed on the spot, an' I shouldn't pass muster excipt for a whisky-barrel, och hone!" "Little sick--soon be well--then shoot." "I wonder now whether I could howld me gun straight enough to drop a buffler at ten paces.