“Oh, what a mighty change will be in that realm! I may say that cruel Turkey will be divided and subdivided into a large number of provinces and that a parliament will be produced by the brilliant ascendency of its future sultana.”
“Stick to your text, man,” interpolated Camperdown. “We don’t want to hear nonsense about Turkey. Keep to Halifax.”
“Now, my most noble and illustrious audience,” uttered MacDaly suavely, “before I close, may I express the humble hope that as in the contingency of future events we may not all of us ever meet again under this ardent and hospitable roof, yet we may confront each other where high and low society are also not visibly recognized, but where all who are immaculate enough to get there get into good society, where, to use a homely and worldly phrase, Jack is as good as his master, oftentimes better, my friends, that is, if poor Jack has got a depraved individual for his master, as many of us have. Here, in this most noteworthy family, where again to use a domestic and wooden proverb as I may call it, signifying that every tub must stand on its own bottom, poor Jack can never hope to be as good as his master, for he has been felicitous enough to have for master the Lady Stargarde Turner, who always speaks in the most amply persuasive and gentle tones to her inferiors at all times and who is bountiful in the largeness of her heart and the wonderful magnificence of her nature.”
MacDaly paused here to bow profoundly to Stargarde, then casting an observing glance upon his amused audience, decided that a further dose of her praises would be acceptable.
“Before exclaiming farewell,” he said, again lashing himself into a state of ardor, “let me ask what further thing I can say of this noble lady who has ever wielded the battle-axe of moral suasion on behalf of helpless and attenuated humanity. Perhaps I should not use the word battle-axe in connection with a lady of such refinement who has so long protected the weak, fed the hungry” (here he looked over his manuscript with a grin and said, “I can prove that”), “clothed the naked” (he grinned again and said, “I can prove that too”), “and magnificently struck out for the right. Therefore trusting that she may pardon her humble and obsequious servant when he says that the mighty things she has accomplished have struck terror into the hearts of evil-doers, comparatively speaking, and can only properly be compared to work done with an axe—yea, and a mighty work at that. In conclusion, I may say that I hope we shall meet many times more in health and wealth, happiness and abundance of affectionate recollections of our past and present meetings. So farewell for the present; and believe me to be, ladies and gentlemen, your very well-wishing and obliged servant, Derrick Edward Fitz-James O’Grady MacDaly. Thanks, very much.”
The lecturer bowed, put his manuscript in his pocket, and mingling affably with his hearers received with modesty the joking compliments showered upon him.
Stargarde watched him in intense amusement.
“Why is he fiddling with that sword?” asked Camperdown, sauntering up to her.
“Oh the entertainment is only half over,” and she framed an announcement that she wished him to make.
Camperdown rose and proclaimed in a stentorian voice, “The future sultana of Turkey orders an exhibition of sword exercise by Professor MacDaly.”