Prater was quite
justified in rubbing his red hands and declaring it as snug a box
as could be for the business. There was even a dark elbow where the
staircase jutted out, below the big bressemer of the partition, and made
a little gallery for ladies to hear speeches, and behold the festive
heroes while still fit to be beholden. And Admiral Darling, as
vice-chairman, entering into facts masculine and feminine, had promised
his daughters and Miss Twemlow, under charge of the rector's wife and
Mrs. Stubbard, a peep at this heroic scene, before it should become too
convivial. The rescuers also of the Blonde, the flesh and bone, without
which the master brain must still have lain stranded, were to have a
grand supper in the covered skittle-alley, as the joints came away from
their betters, this lower deck being in command of Captain Tugwell, who
could rouse up his crew as fast as his lordship roused his officers.
Admiral Darling had been engaged of late in the service of his Country
so continually, and kept up and down the great roads so much, or in and
out of any little port where sailors grew, that his own door had nearly
forgotten his shadow, and his dining-room table the reflection of his
face. For, in those days, to keep a good table implied that the table
must be good, as well as what was put upon it; and calico spread upon
turpentine was not yet considered the proper footing for the hospitable
and social glass.
Pages:
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329