ed it
on the right hook. I was so much elated that my dinner went from table
untouched. I kept conjuring up Paradises, Elysian fields, and a number of
other places never heard of, inhabited by women more beautiful than
Eastern imagery can possibly describe--so fair, so chaste, so lovely, and
so domestic. "Oh!" said I aloud, to the astonishment of my messmates, who
were much occupied with their knives and forks, "give me but one of those
fair ones, and I will not eat my dinner for a month." "Hulloa!" said the
surgeon, "what's the matter with you?" "Nothing," replied I; "the illusion
is vanished, and I will take a glass of wine with you. I cannot eat, my
mind is too full of England, and my heart crowded with its delightful fair
ones. What unfeeling sea monsters you are all of you," continued I, "to be
eating with such voracious appetites when you know we are going to
glorious England--the land of freedom and genuine hospitality." "Not so
fast," said he, interrupting me; "how long is it since you were there?"
"Nearly eight years," said I. "I fear," resumed he, "you will not have
your dreams--for dreams they are--verified. I was there eighteen months ago,
and found freedom in the mouths of the lower classes, who evidently did
not understand the meaning of it, and when they did they only used it as a
cloak to do mischief, for demagoguing--if you will allow the term--was the
order of the day at that time, and as for hospitality that has, as you may
express yourself, made sail and gone to cruise into some other climate. I
had letters to two families from their relations in India; they asked me
to dinner in a stiff, formal manner, and thought, I suppose, they had
performed wonders. There our acquaintance ended. I am an Irishman,"
continued he, "and I assert without partiality that there is more real
hospitality in my land of praters than in all Europe. Freedom we will not
talk about; but as for the women, dear creatures, they are a mixture of
roses and lilies, and such busts, like dairy maids, sure," said he; "don't
say anything more about them, or I shall be what has never happened to an
Irishman yet--out of spirits." "Now," said I, "doctor, we have found you
out. You lost your heart when in England, and were not requited by the
cruel fair one." "Fair or foul," answered he, "I would not give one
Munster girl for a dozen English. To be sure," added he to a young Irish
midshipman, whose turn it was to dine in the gun-room, "they ar