“Well, I’m glad to hear you say so; I thought they had ruined you, destroyed all your philosophy—but it will be all right again—you shall come to our societies, Jack—I am president—you shall hear me speak, Jack—you shall hear me thunder like Demosthenes—but here comes the tray.”
The butler, followed by Mesty, who attended him as if he was his prisoner, now made his appearance with the tray—laid it down in a sulky manner and retired. Jack desired Mesty to remain.
“Well, Mesty, how are they getting on in the servants’ hall?”
“Regular mutiny, sar—ab swear dat dey no stand our nonsense, and dat we both leave the house to-morrow.”
“Do you hear, sir, your servants declare that I shall leave your house to-morrow.”
“You leave my house, Jack, after four years’ absence!—no, no. I’ll reason with them—I’ll make them a speech. You don’t know how I can speak, Jack.”
“Look you, father, I cannot stand this; either give me a carte-blanche to arrange this household as I please, or I shall quit it myself to-morrow morning.”
“Quit my house, Jack! no, no—shake hands and make friends with them; be civil, and they will serve you—but you know upon the principles—”
“Principles of the devil!” cried Jack in a rage.
“Of the devil, Jack; dear me! I wish you had never gone to sea.”