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 various. Such a dinner, it may well be supposed, met the particular approbation of the royal officers, especially as the fashion of that day introduced stimulating drinks to the table, and the peach brandy, prepared under Lieutenant Slocumb’s own supervision, was of the most excellent sort. It received the unqualified praise of the party; and its merits were freely discussed. A Scotch officer, praising it by the name of whiskey, protested that he had never drunk as good out of Scotland. An officer speaking with a slight brogue, insisted it was not whiskey, and that no Scotch drink ever equalled it. “To my mind,” said he, “it tastes as yonder orchard smells.” “Allow me, madam,” said Colonel Tarleton, “to inquire where the spirits we are drinking is procured.”

“From the orchard where your tents stand,” answered Mrs. Slocumb.

“Colonel,” said the Irish captain, “when we conquer this country, is it not to be divided out among us?”

“The officers of this army,” replied the colonel, “will undoubtedly receive large possessions of the conquered American provinces.”

Mrs. Slocumb here interposed. “Allow me to observe and prophesy,” said she, “the only land in these United States which will ever remain in possession of a British officer, will measure but six feet by two.”

“Excuse me, madam,” remarked Tarleton. “For your sake I regret to say—this beautiful plantation will be the ducal seat of some of us.”

“Don’t trouble yourself about me,” retorted the spirited lady. “My husband is not a man who would allow a duke, or even a king, to have a quiet seat upon his ground.”

At this point the conversation was interrupted by rapid volleys of fire-arms, appearing to proceed from the wood a short distance to the eastward. One of the aids pronounced it some straggling scout, running from the picket-guard; but the experience of Colonel Tarleton could not be easily deceived.

“There are rifles and muskets,” said he, “as well as pistols; and