"Your port wine and your sherry are execrable!"
"His Grace thought them excellent."
Cannon was bubbling over, but he philosophized over a glass of punch; and his family comforted themselves, over a cup of tea, with the thoughts of their speedy departure from "horrible England."
Peter Cannon complained in the coffee-room of the treatment they had experienced, and he felt not a little annoyed when his interlocutor, a perfect stranger, observed that "they would have been much more comfortable had they put up at a second or third-rate hotel." They seemed created for wanton insult. Cornelius Cannon strolled out to inquire if there was anything to be seen in Dover; an insolent groom told him that, if he would go up to the Castle, he might see "a rum cannon" that carried a ball to Calais. Had he been a gentleman, Cornelius must have called him out, for he fancied that the term "rum cannon" had been a personality.
The next morning the packet was to sail. Here again fresh outrages were heaped upon them. They were asked for the keys of their trunks, to be examined at the custom-house!
"Why, what the deuce do they fancy I can have to export?" exclaimed Commodus Cannon.
"Why, sir, perhaps it might be some machinery."
There was something wantonly offensive in the insinuation that a man like Mr. Commodus Cannon should smuggle out a steam-engine, an improved loom, or a paper-mill, in his luggage! What could have been the cause of all these indignities? Simply this, as it was subsequently discovered: Sam Surly, being hungry, and not over nice, despite a brown and gold-laced red-collared livery, and military cockade, had gone to the tap to enjoy a pull of half-and-half; and, unaccustomed to travel, had gone into the kitchen for some "victuals," instead of joining the board of the other under-gentlemen in the house. On the other hand, Sukey Simper, both for the sake of comfort and economy, had brought with her a bottle of rum, and some loaf-sugar wrapped up in brown paper, and, having been shown to her attic quarters, forthwith prepared a potation to refresh herself after her journey: neither being aware that it is part and parcel of a servant's duty in a respectable family to run up a heavy score at their master's expense. Now, Sam Surly had also picked up an old Yorkshire acquaintance, with whom he repaired to another eating-house, where, over a bowl of generous humpty-dumpty, Sam was prevailed upon to take charge of a small parcel of little articles for a present at Boulogne, and, to avoid paying freight, he was recommended to conceal the said trifles in his capacious corduroy unmentionables.
As Messrs. Cannons were perambulating the streets of Dover, they observed sundry gentlemen, some of them lords, wearing sailors' jackets and hats, and they therefore determined to turn out in a marine costume; for which purpose they hied to a Jew slop-seller for their outfit. Mr. Cannon, senior, donned a pea-coatie, with a pair of ample blue trousers, and a glazed hat with a jaunty riband; while his sons soon strutted about the town in yacht-club uniforms, with their hands knowingly thrust in the pockets of their jackets, resplendent with anchored buttons. They felt satisfied that they had produced "the desired effect," for every one stared at them as they stalked along in "rank entire," Commodus Cannon leading the van, and the ladies—enraptured at the appearance of the male part of the family—bringing up the rear. They were certainly annoyed by the impertinent observations of the vulgar people, boys and girls, who, with the usual English bad taste, did not know better,—who would titter, and exclaim, "I say, there goes the horse-marines!"