"There is more danger that that wasp will fly down his throat," replied another of the gay bevy. "What a yawning cavern it is! That wasp is hovering over the 'crack of doom!'"
"He reminds me rather of Daniel in the lion's den," put in a third.
"Let's move our seats before he wakes up," cried one of the girls, as the nondescript made a slight demonstration upon a fly that had invaded his repose. "He is protected by the barricade he has surrounded himself with—like a upas-tree in the centre of its own vile atmosphere—but we, unwary travellers, are not equally safe!"
A day or two afterwards, these very young men were just opposite me at table, in a hotel in one of our large Western cities.
They were well dressed (with the exception of colored shirts) and well-looking enough, but, after what I had previously seen of them, I was not surprised to observe their habits of eating. One would throw up both arms, and clasp his hands over his head, while waiting for a re-supply of food; the other stop, now and then, to lay off his bushy moustache, so as to make more room for the shovelling process he kept up with his knife, for the more rapid disappearance of a large goblet of water at one swallowing, or for the introduction of a mammoth ear of corn, which he took both hands to hold, while he gobbled up row after row, with inconceivable rapidity. Then one would manipulate an enormous drum-stick, while he lolled comfortable back in his chair, grievously belaboring his voluminous beard, the while, and leaving upon it an all-sufficient substitute for maccassar, and the other, simultaneously make a loud demonstration with his pocket-handkerchief, or upon his head. Now one would stretch out his legs under the table, until he essentially invaded my reserved rights, and then the other insert his tongue first in one cheek, and then in the other, rolling it vigorously round, as a cannoneer would swab out a great gun with his sponge, before re-loading! Flushed, heated, steaming, the heaps of sweet-potato skins, bones, and bits of food profusely scattered over the soiled cloth, fully attested the might of their achievements!
Much of this, as I said, I was prepared for, but I was somewhat surprised by what followed.
I had sent for a quail, I think, or some other small game, and was preparing to discuss its merits, when one of these young men, reaching over, stuck his fork into the bird, and transferred it to his own plate!
I saw at a glance that no offense was intended to me—that the seeming rudeness was simply the result of vulgarity and ignorance; so I very quietly directed the servant to bring me another bird.
Scarcely was the second dish placed before me, when the other youth of this delectable pair exactly repeated the action of his companion, and I again found myself minus my game.
"Mon Dieu!" cried my young foreign friend, "if you can endure that, you are a hero, sir!"