This sounded unanswerable, but the cunning Budge was equal to the occasion.
“It gives me pleasure to answer the question of the gentleman: my remark was made in a Pickwickian sense.”
He leaned forward with a beaming smile, as if his explanation left nothing to be added. No one understood to what he referred, but all were too proud to admit the fact. There was a general nodding of heads, and Ike, with the manner of a man who magnanimously accepts the humble apology of him whom he has worsted, leaned back on his stool and audibly remarked:
“That makes it all right.”
Budge Isham resumed his seat, when he was reminded that he was expected to submit a name for the new settlement.
“I beg pardon,” he said, rising again, “it is a fact known to this highly intelligent assemblage, that every city of prominence in Europe has from one to forty namesakes in this country. There is one exception, however; doubtless all know to what city I refer.”
In response to his inquiring looks, the group tried to appear as if the name was familiar to them, but no one spoke.
“It is hardly necessary for me to mention the city, but I may say it is Constantinople.”
A contemptuous sniff greeted this proposal.