“Now for the baskets—now for the spread. The old gentlemen break up their Lloyds’ meeting—the old ladies break up their scandal club—the young ladies and their beaux are busy in arrangements, and though the cork-screws are nowhere to be found, Pistol has his in one of the many pockets of his woodsman’s coat, he never goes without it (like one of his mother’s waiters), which he calls his young man’s best companion; and which another, who was a year in an attorney’s office, while waiting for his commission, calls the crown circuit assistant; and a third, who has just arrived in a steamer, designates as the screw propeller. It was a sensible provision, and Miss Di said, ‘a corkscrew and a pocket-pistol were better suited to him than a rifle,’ and every one said it was a capital joke that—for everybody likes a shot that don’t hit themselves.
“‘How tough the goose is!’ sais G soft. ‘I can’t carve it.’
“‘Ah!’ sais Di, ‘when Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war.’
“Eating and talking lasts a good while, but they don’t last for ever. The ladies leave the gentlemen to commence their smoking and finish their drinking, and presently there is a loud laugh; it’s more than a laugh, it’s a roar; and the ladies turn round and wonder.
“Letty sais, ‘When the wine is in, the wit is out.’
“‘True,” sais Di, ‘the wine is there, but when you left them the wit went out.’
“‘Rather severe,’ said Letty.
“‘Not at all,’ sais Di, ‘for I was with you.’
“It is the last shot of poor Di. She won’t take the trouble to talk well for ladies, and those horrid Mudges have a party on purpose to take away all the pleasant men. She never passed so stupid a day. She hates pic-nics, and will never go to one again. De la Cour is a fool, and is as full of airs as a night-hawk is of feathers. Pistol is a bore; Target is both poor and stingy; Trigger thinks more of himself than anybody else; and as for G soft, he is a goose. She will never speak to Pippen again for not coming. They are a poor set of devils in the garrison; she is glad they are to have a new regiment.
“Letty hasn’t enjoyed herself either, she has been devoured by black flies and musquitoes, and has got her feet wet, and is so tired she can’t go to the ball. The sleeping partner of the head of the firm is out of sorts, too. Her crony-gossip gave her a sly poke early in the day, to show her she recollected when she was young (not that she is so old now either, for she knows the grave gentleman who visits at her house is said to like the mother better than the daughter), but before she was married, and friends who have such wonderful memories are not very pleasant companions, though it don’t do to have them for enemies. But then, poor thing, and she consoles herself with the idea the poor thing has daughters herself, and they are as ugly as sin, and not half so agreeable. But it isn’t that altogether. Sarah Matilda should not have gone wandering out of hearing with the captain, and she must give her a piece of her mind about it, for there is a good deal of truth in the old saying, ‘If the girls won’t run after the men, the men will run after them;’ so she calls out loudly, ‘Sarah Matilda, my love, come here, dear,’ and Sarah Matilda knows when the honey is produced, physic is to be taken, but she knows she is under observation, and so she flies to her dear mamma, with the feet and face of an angel, and they gradually withdraw.