ontained and
sober of us all, when we fairly bubble over, like a full bottle
of champagne with the cork out; and this was one of them for our
hero who however, be it remarked, was neither self-contained nor
sober by nature. When they got back to his rooms, he really
hardly knew what to do to give vent to his lightness of heart;
and Hardy, though self-contained and sober enough in general, was
on this occasion almost as bad as his friend. They rattled on,
talked out the thing which came uppermost, whatever the subject
might chance to be; but whether grave or gay, it always ended
after a minute or two in jokes not always good, and chaff, and
laughter. The poor captain was a little puzzled at first, and
made one or two endeavours to turn the talk into improving
channels. But very soon he saw that Jack was thoroughly happy,
and that was always enough for him. So he listened to one and the
other, joining cheerily in the laugh whenever he could; and when
he couldn't catch the joke, looking like a benevolent old lion,
and making as much belief that he had understood it all as the
simplicity and truthfulness of his character would allow.

The spirits of the two friends seemed inexhaustible. They lasted
out the bottle of sherry which Tom had uncorked, and the remains
of a bottle of his famous port. He had tried hard to be allowed
to open a fresh bottle, but the Captain had made such a point of
his not doing so, that he had given in for hospitality's sake.
They lasted out the coffee and anchovy toast; after which the
Captain made a little effort at moving, which was supplicatingly
stopped by Tom.

"Oh, pray don't go, Captain Hardy. I haven't been so happy for
months. Besides, I must brew you a glass of grog. I pride myself
on my brew. Your son there will tell you that I am a dead hand at
it. Here, Wiggins, a lemon!" shouted Tom.

"Well, for once in a way, I suppose, eh, Jack?" said the Captain,
looking at his son.

"Oh yes, father. You mayn't know it, Brown, but, if there is one
thing harder to do than another, it is to get an old sailor like
my father to take a glass of grog at night."

The Captain laughed a little laugh, and shook his thick stick at
his son, who went on.

"And as for asking him to take a pipe with it--"

"Dear me," said Tom, "I quite forgot. I really beg your pardon,
Captain Hardy; and he put down the lemon he was squeezing, and
produced a box of cigars.

"It's all Jack's nonsense, sir," said the C