It was now my turn to make them look foolish. Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy (whose unfailing appetite is pretty well known to every person who has been in India) cried, “Well, Captain Gahagan, your ball has been so pleasant, and the supper was despatched so long ago, that myself and the ladies would be very glad of a little breakfast.” And Mrs. Van giggled as if she had made a very witty and reasonable speech. “Oh! breakfast, breakfast, by all means,” said the rest; “we really are dying for a warm cup of tea.”
“Is it bohay tay or souchong tay that you’d like, ladies?” says I.
“Nonsense, you silly man; any tea you like,” said fat Mrs. Van.
“What do you say, then, to some prime gunpowder?” Of course they said it was the very thing.
“And do you like hot rowls or cowld—muffins or crumpets—fresh butter or salt? And you, gentlemen, what do you say to some ilegant divvled-kidneys for yourselves, and just a trifle of grilled turkeys, and a couple of hundthred new-laid eggs for the ladies?”
“Pooh, pooh! be it as you will, my dear fellow,” answered they all.
“But stop,” says I. “O ladies, O ladies! O gentlemen, gentlemen! that you should ever have come to the quarters of Goliah Gahagan, and he been without—”
“What?” said they, in a breath.
“Alas! alas! I have not got a single stick of chocolate in the whole house.”
“Well, well, we can do without it.”