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bestowing a half-crown made it five shillings,
and there was a supplemental wish
that he might drive at the captain's wedding.
Then we rattled off with a plunge, Mr. John
being savage, for I had called all right from
behind, and he had to run hard, and with
difficulty got up.

At the next stage all the voyagers
descended at "McCallum's," where the
captain recollected stopping fifteen years ago,
and where there was actually some one that
recollected him, or seemed to recollect him.
But, in truth, there was in the captain's
face always such a gracious, kindly
recognition of his fellow-creatures who were
below him in station, that it seemed the
renewal, as it were, of quite an old acquaintance.
So when he had greeted Mrs.
McCallum warmly and gallantly, also telling
her she was as dangerous as she was
twenty years ago, that smart lady fair
recollected the visit and the compliments paid
to her.

We were to lunch here. I remember to
this hour the peculiar fragrance of the inn
parlour, the air half of beer, half the flavour
of sawdust, and yet not disagreeable. Such
alesuch a round of beefsuch cheese!
But in those days everything had "such"
before it, from the want of a frequent
standard of comparison. "Cut and come
again," said the captain, who took good
care that Mr. John should be carefully
attended topossibly a superfluous precaution.
The brave Tom was in boisterous
spirits, making jokes, and eating
prodigiously. What I admired in both gentlemen
was their amazing command of easy
conversation, and the pleasant rallying they
kept up with Mrs. McCallumthe imagination,
the ready wit, so it seemed to me.
Nor was she behindhand, and, I dare swear,
talked long after of the green chariot and
the two pleasant gentlemen it brought. I
was greatly delighted with the series of
paintings, as they appeared to me, that
hung out from the walls in a beetling
manner, as if they were going to fall down
on our heads. They were of an absorbing
dramatic interest, representing passages in
the life of a huntsman a vast and confused
crowd of red coats, and a number of very
high stocks and painted "gills." The captain
recognised them at once. "Ay, Tom
Moodypoor Tom MoodyI have them all
down at Lota. See, there he is going overt
ha-ha, there they're all like ourselves,
bound for a funeral. We haven't as long
faces as they have, quite; eh, Tom, my boy?
See here. Look at this horse, with his whip
and his spurs. Immensely well done."

Now we were on again, with fresh horses,
and Mrs. McCallum stands curtseying and
smiling at the door, and I am convinced
she feels the loss of the captain very much.
I recollect now the captain rallying brave
Tom, on something that occurred in the
passage. "When my back was turned
too," said the captain—"a shame! taking
advantage of an elderly veteran." I did
not know then what this joking was referring
to; but I think I can make a guess
now. I was taken inside and seated on a
little seat contrived to let up and down, and
never was so entertained, contributing myself
no inconsiderable share of the conversation,
and being invited to do so. Then I
was asked to sing, and greatly pressed by
the captain, who said, "Mark his words;
but I would astonish them yet with an
uncommon fine organ of my own!" I gave
them my cheval de bataillethe Pilgrim of
Love, Mr. Incledon's, I believe, favourite
ditty, which I had found in an old red music
book between The Battle of Prague and a
song called the Rosy Beam of Morning. I
am not a little amused to see that this
old favourite has since come seriously into
fashion, voiced by welkin-splitting tenors.
The captain's own gifts were of a modest
sort, confined chiefly to a gentle
accompaniment of "Tum, ti, tum, de, dee, ti,
tum, tum, toy." Yet he could play on a
violin, and often delighted us by an account
of doings at "Mrs. Dodd's boarding house
a tip-top place," where he lived "with
the best," about the time quadrilles came
over from France, and where the passion
for the dance was so strong that the ladies
and gentlemen would begin at once after
luncheon, closing "Dodd's" shutters, and
lighting up the rooms, while Uncle Jack,
good-natured always, would sit at the head,
and fiddle "Payne's Quadrille" over and
over again. But I am digressing.

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