So saying, the old gentleman led the way through a portico. At the sight of strangers the windows underneath were crowded with faces of various degrees of colour—eyes and mouths wide open, the latter displaying rows of teeth so even and so brilliantly white, that they might cause a sensation of envy to many an English belle.
The party were ushered into a spacious and cool apartment on the ground-floor, where a table was covered with all the varieties of a tropical breakfast, consisting of fried fish, curries, devilled poultry, salt meats, and every thing which could tend to stimulate an enfeebled appetite.
“Now, gentlemen, let me recommend you to take a white jacket; you’ll be more at your ease, and there is no ceremony here. Boy Jack, where’s the sangoree? This is a fine climate, Captain Berecroft; all you have to attend to is—to be temperate, and not to check the perspiration.”
Boy Jack, who, par parenthèse, was a stout, well-looking negro, of about forty years of age, now made his appearance with the sangoree. This was a beverage composed of half a bottle of brandy, and two bottles of Madeira, to which were added a proportion of sugar, lime-juice, and nutmeg, with water ad lib. It was contained in a glass bowl, capable of holding two gallons, standing upon a single stalk, and bearing the appearance of a Brobdignag rummer. Boy Jack brought it with both hands, and placed it before his master.
“Now, sir, will you drink?” said the planter, addressing Mr Berecroft.
“Thank you,” replied Mr Berecroft, “I never drink so early in the morning.”
“Drink! why this is nothing but swizzle. Here’s your health, sir, I’ll show you the way.”
The large goblet was fixed to his lips for upwards of a minute: at last they unwillingly separated, and the old planter recovered his respiration with a deep sigh. “Now then, gentlemen, do you take a little, don’t be afraid; there’s nothing you mayn’t do in this climate, only be temperate and don’t check the perspiration.” At this moment Newton was startled, and looked under the table.
“I thought it was a dog, but it’s a little black child.”
“Oh! there’s one out, is there? Why, Boy Jack, did I not tell you to shut them all in?”