“Possibly, if I were in the habit of laying wagers,” the rector replied.
“I certainly should have done so, reverend sir, but I should have lost my money,” continued Mr. Dapper; “for Mr. Stone was plucky, used his fists beautifully, and gave it to my lord the bishop right between the eyes. The bishop was quite gamey, though, and aimed a blow at Stone’s nose, but finally got shoved out of the room, greatly to his mortification. He couldn’t let the matter drop, and so accused Stone of being drunk. The matter finally got into Parliament where there was quite a row about it. Such were the auspices under which our good sovereign was educated to administer the affairs of the realm. His mother wanted to make him pious. She would not allow him to associate with other boys because they would corrupt his morals. Lord Bute advised the princess dowager to keep the prince tied to her apron strings, and succeeded.”
“Lord Bute,” Mr. Adams responded, “is very much disliked in the Colonies. When he was at the head of the ministry, he was hung in effigy on the Liberty Tree.”
“So he was in London,” Mr. Dapper replied. “Your detestation of him cannot be greater than it is in England. No one can quite understand how John Stuart made his way up to power. He was a poor Scotsman from the Frith of Clyde. He went to school at Eton and also at Cambridge, then came to London, hired a piece of land out a little way from the city, and raised peppermint, camomile, and other simples for medicine. He had a love for private theatricals, had shapely legs and liked to show them. One evening the Prince of Wales saw his legs, and, taking a fancy to the owner, told him to make himself at home in Leicester House. That was enough for John Stuart. Having got a foothold, he made himself useful to Fred, and especially to the princess dowager. George II. was getting on in years and irritable. The old king took it upon himself to pick out a wife for the prince, selecting the daughter of Charles, Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel; but the prince said he wasn’t going to be Wolfenbuttled by his grandsire. Just what he meant by it no one knows, as the word is not to be found in Doctor Johnson’s big dictionary.”
“Shall I help you to a bit of canvasback, my lord?” Mrs. Newville asked, interrupting the narrative.
“Canvasback! What may it be? Really, you have most astonishing things to eat over here,” Lord Upperton replied.
Mrs. Newville explained that it was a duck, and that it was regarded as a delicacy.
“I never ate anything so delicious,” said Upperton.
Mr. Dapper also praised it.