,--the
prevailing impression being that they were pocket-handkerchiefs. No man
had any vested interest in his own wine-glass; while thirsty souls even
dispensed with such luxuries, and drank from the bottle itself.

Then sea-usages had carried themselves into shore life. The company were
continually getting up to look out of windows, watching the vessels that
passed, remarking on the state of the tide, and then, resuming their
places with a muttering over the "half ebb," and that the wind was
"northing-by-west," looked for change. All the conversation smacked of
salt-water; every allusion had an odor of tar and seaweed about it.

Poor Mrs. Davis! How was she to civilize these savages; how invest
their lives with any interest above timber? They would not listen to the
polite news of "Government House;" they would not vouchsafe the least
attention to the interesting paragraphs she recited as table-talk,--how
the Prince of Hohenhumbughousen had arrived at Windsor on a visit to
Majesty, nor how Royalty walked in "The Slopes," or sat for its picture.

Of the "Duke of Northumberland," they only knew a troopship of the
name, and even that had been waterlogged! The "Wellington" traded to
Mirimachi, and the "Robert Peel" was a barque belonging to Newfoundland,
and employed in general traffic, and not believed very seaworthy.

Some may make the ungracious remark that she might have spared herself
this task of humanizing; that she could have left these "ligneous
Christians," these creatures of tar and turpentine, where she found
them. The same observation will apply equally to Cooke, to Franklin, to
Brooke of Borneo, and a hundred other civilizers: so Mrs. D. felt
it, and so she labored to make T. J. feel it; but he would n't. The
ungrateful old bear saw the ordinary grow daily thinner; he perceived
that Banquo might have seated himself at any part of the table, and he
actually upbraided his wife with the fact. Every day he announced some
new defection from the list of their old supporters. Now it was old Ben
Crosseley, of the "Lively Biddy," that would n't stand being ordered to
shake out his canvas--that is, to spread his napkin--when he was taking
in sea store; then it was Tom Galket grew indignant at not being
permitted to beat "to quarters" with his knuckles at every pause in the
dinner. Some were put out by being obliged to sit with their legs under
the table, being long habituated to dine at a cask with a plank on it,
an