actual conversation upon what's for supper this moment in the kitchen. Mar. Then I beg they'll admit me as one of their privycouncil. It's a way I have got.1 When I travel, I always choose to regulate my own supper. Let the cook be called. No offence, I hope, sir.2 4 Hard. O no, sir, none in the least:3 yet, I don't know how, our Bridget, the cookmaid, is not very communicative upon these occasions. Should we send for her, she might scold us all out of the house.5 Hast. Let's see the list of the larder," then. I always match my appetite to my bill of fare.7 Mar. [To HARDCASTLE, who looks at them with surprise.] Sir, he's very right, and it's my way too. 8 Hard. Sir, you have a right to command here. Here," Roger, bring us the bill of fare 10 for to-night's supper: I believe it's drawn out. Your manner, Mr. Hastings, puts me in mind of my uncle, Colonel Wallop. It was a saying of his, that no man was sure of his supper till he had eaten it._[Servant brings in the bill of fare, and exit.] Hast. All upon the high ropes 11 His uncle a 12 colonel! We shall soon hear of his mother being a justice 13 of [Aside.] But let's hear the bill of fare. peace. Mar. [Perusing.] What's here? For the first course; for the second course; for the dessert.-The devil, 14 sir! Do you think we have brought down the whole Joiners' Company, or the corporation 15 of Bedford, to eat up such a supper? Two or three little things, clean and comfortable, will do. Hast. But let's hear it. Mar. [Reading.] For the first course at the top, a pig and prune sauce.1 Hast. D- 2 your pig, I say. Mar. And d- your prune sauce, say I. Hard. And yet, gentlemen, to men that are hungry pig, with prune sauce, is very good eating.3-Their impudence confounds me. [Aside.] Gentlemen, you are my guests, make what alterations you please. Is there anything else you wish to retrench or alter, gentlemen? 4 Mar. Item: a pork pie, a boiled rabbit and sausages, a florentine, a shaking pudding, and a dish of tiff-taff taffety cream. 6 Hast. Confound your made dishes! I shall be as much at a loss 8 in this house, as at a green and yellow dinner at the French ambassador's table. I'm for plain eating. Hard. I'm sorry, gentlemen, that I have nothing you like; but if there be anything you have a particular fancy to Mar. Why, really,10 sir, your bill of fare is so exquisite, that any one part of it is full as good as another. Send us what you please. So much for supper: 11 and now 12 to see that our beds are aired, and properly taken care of. Hard. I entreat you'll leave all that to me.13 You shall not stir a step. Mar. Leave that to you! I protest, sir, you must excuse me, I always look to these things myself.14 Hard. I must insist, sir, you'll make yourself1 easy on that head. Mar. You see I'm resolved on it.2-A fellow, as ever I met with. [Aside.] very troublesome Hard. Well, sir, I'm resolved, at least, to attend you. -This may be modern modesty, but I never saw anything look so like old-fashioned impudence.3 [Aside.] [Exeunt MAR. and HARD. Hast. So, I find this fellow's civilities begin to grow troublesome. But who can be angry with those assiduities which are meant to please him? SEA FOG, AND WRECK. On the 9th of May, we reached Halifax, off which port we were detained in a very disagreeable way;5 for we had the misfortune to be kept three whole days off the harbour, in one of those Nova Scotia fogs, which are celebrated all over the world. I can hardly give by description an idea of how gloomy they are ;7 but I think their effects may be compared to those of the sirocco; with the further annoyance, that while they last, we are not able to see far beyond our noses. They are even worse than rain, for they seem to wet one through sooner;8 while they make every. thing appear dreary, and certainly render all the world lazy and discontented.9 On the day we made the land,10 we had great hopes of 1 Non; je prétends que vous soyez parfaitement. The verb prétendre, in the sense of vouloir, governs the subjunctive. 2 C'est un parti pris, voyez-vous. 3 mais elle ne ressemble pas mal à l'impudence d'autrefois. 4 See page 164, note 8. Turn, and we were detained off that port.'-off,' à la hauteur de, in this sense. 6 for we had,' &c.; cut all this shorter by suppressing the semi colon after 'port,' higher up, and turning, during three days, in one of those Nova Scotia fogs (brumes de la Nouvelle-Ecosse).' 7 Simply, an idea of them.' 8 car elles vous mouillent encore plus vite jusqu'aux os. 9 jettent un voile noir sur tous les objets et vous accablent de languerr et de tristesse. The word voile, 'a veil,' is masculine; but voile, a sail,' is feminine. 10 Le iour que nous atterrâmes being able to enter the harbour, as the wind was fair:' when, all at once, we were surrounded by so thick a mist, that, for the three succeeding days, we could not see above twenty yards on any side. There are few things, indeed, more provoking than these fogs off Halifax; for, as they happen to be companions of that very wind, the south-east,2 which is the best for running in, the navigator3 is plagued with the tormenting consciousness, that if he could be allowed but a couple of hours' clear weather, his port would be gained, and his troubles over. The clearing up, therefore, of these odious clouds or veils is about the most delightful thing I know ;4 and the instantaneous effect which a distinct sight of the land, or even of the sharp horizon, when far at sea, has on. the mind of every person on board,5 is quite remarkable. All things look bright, fresh, and more beautiful than ever. The stir over the whole ship at these moments is so great, that even persons sitting below 6 can tell at once that the fog has cleared away. The rapid clatter of the men's feet springing up the hatchways at the lively sound of the boatswain's call to "make sail !" soon follows. Then comes the cheerful voice of the officer, hailing the topmen to shake out the reefs, trice up the stay-sails, and rig out the booms. That peculiar and well-known kind of echo, also, by which the sound of the voice is thrown back from the wet sails, contributes, in like manner, to produce a joyous elasticity of spirits, greater, I think, than is excited by most of the ordinary occurrences of a sea-life.10 8 9 A year or two after the time I am speaking of, it was resolved to place a heavy 11 gun upon the rock on which 1 Sambro light-house is built; and, after a good deal of trouble, a long twenty-four pounder was hoisted 1 up to the highest ridge of this prominent station. It was then arranged that, if, on the arrival of any ship off the 2 harbour in a period of fog, she chose to fire guns,3 these were to be answered from the light-house; and in this way a kind of audible, though invisible, telegraph might be set to work. If it happened that the officers of the ship were sufficiently familiar with the ground, and possessed nerves stout enough for such a groping kind of navigation, perilous at best, it was possible to run fairly into the harbour, notwithstanding the obscurity, by watching the sound of these guns, and attending closely to the depth of water. 6 8 I never sailed in any ship which ventured upon this feat; but I perfectly recollect a curious circumstance, which occurred, I think, to His Majesty's ship Cambrian. She had run in from sea towards the coast, enveloped in one of these dense fogs. Of course they took for granted9 that the light-house and the adjacent land, Halifax included, were likewise covered with an impenetrable cloud or mist. But it so chanced, by what freak of Dame Nature I know not, that the fog, on that day, was confined to the deep water; 10 so that we, who were in the port, could 11 see it, at the distance of several miles from the coast, lying 12 on the ocean like a huge stratum of snow, with an abrupt face, fronting the shore. 13 The Cambrian, lost in the midst of this fog-bank, supposing herself to be near the land, fired a gun. To this the light-house replied; and so the ship and the light went on, pelting away, gun for gun,15 during half the day, without ever seeing one another. The people at the light-house had no 14 |