, however, be supposed, that they dined _tete-a-tete_; no,
no--the corporal and his wife were not so churlish as that. The dinner
party consisted of a chosen set, the most particular friends of the
corporal. Mr Short, first officer and boatswain, Mr William Spurey, Mr
and Mrs Salisbury; and last, although not the least important person in
this history, Peter Smallbones, Esquire, who having obtained money
somehow, was now remarkable for the neatness of his apparel. The fair
widow, assisted by Moggy and Babette, cooked the dinner, and when it
was ready came in from the kitchen as red as a fury and announced it:
and then it was served up, and they all sat down to table in the little
parlour. It was very close, the gentlemen took off their jackets, and
the widow and Moggy fanned themselves, and the enormous demand by
evaporation was supplied with foaming beer. None could have done the
honours of the table better than the corporal and his lady who sat
melting and stuck together on the little fubsy sofa, which had been the
witness of so much pretended and so much real love.

But the Lust Haus is now lighted up, the company are assembling fast;
Babette is waddling and trotting like an armadillo from corner to
corner: Babette here, and Babette there, it is Babette everywhere. The
room is full, and the musicians have commenced tuning their instruments;
the party run from the table to join the rest. A general cheer greets
the widow as she is led into the room by the corporal--for she had asked
many of her friends as well as the crew of the _Yungfrau_, and many
others came who were not invited; so that the wedding day, instead of
disbursement, produced one of large receipt to the happy pair.

"Now then, corporal, you must open the ball with your lady," cried Bill
Spurey.

"Mein Gott, yes."

"What shall it be, Madam Van Spitter?"

"A waltz, if you please."

The musicians struck up a waltz, and Corporal Van Spitter, who had no
notion of waltzing, further than having seen the dance performed by
others, seized his wife by the waist, who, with an amorous glance,
dropped her fat arm upon the corporal's shoulder. This was the signal
for the rest--the corporal had made but one turn before a hundred couple
more were turning also--the whole room seemed turning. The corporal
could not waltz, but he could turn--he held on fast by the widow, and
with such a firm piece of resistance he kept a centrifugal balance, and
without regard to ti