The fragrance diffused itself through the room, as the ripe, dark rum was poured in, the nutmeg grated, and the slices of lemon were thrown in to swim on the aromatic, generous liquor.
Alas for the punch-bowl! It was one of the institutions of the past. It sent a steam of goodwill that diffused itself over those congregated around it! It mellowed the asperities and sweetened the crudities of those who brimmed their glasses from it. What choice stories, what melodious songs, what sportive sallies did it call forth! And the host ladling forth the spicy liquor was brought into intimate and affectionate relationship with his guests. He was like the sun diffusing warmth, light, life to the planets round. That was quite another thing to the butler decanting champagne into a glass. With the punch-bowl something has passed away out of English social life that cannot well be replaced.
'There, Olver,' said the captain; 'it was worth attempting and failing in dance to have a smack of such a drink of the gods as this?'
Job was in good humour.
'Now, little maid,' said he, 'and you, Olver; and you, Jane, fill out for the girl a thimbleful. I give the toast of the evening, Success to the undertaking.'
'Success to the undertaking,' said Olver.
'I should like to know what the undertaking is before I drink it,' said Winefred.
'That is no concern of yours.'
'Then,' said she, 'success to every honest and daylight undertaking.'
Job and the boatman looked at each other and laughed.