One of them was Scots; the other claimed to be
American; admitted, after some fencing, that he was born in England;
and ultimately proved to be an Irishman born and nurtured, but
ashamed to own his country. He had a sister on board, whom he
faithfully neglected throughout the voyage, though she was not only
sick, but much his senior, and had nursed and cared for him in
childhood. In appearance he was like an imbecile Henry the Third of
France. The Scotsman, though perhaps as big an ass, was not so dead
of heart; and I have only bracketed them together because they were
fast friends, and disgraced themselves equally by their conduct at
the table.
Next, to turn to topics more agreeable, we had a newly-married
couple, devoted to each other, with a pleasant story of how they had
first seen each other years ago at a preparatory school, and that
very afternoon he had carried her books home for her. I do not know
if this story will be plain to southern readers; but to me it recalls
many a school idyll, with wrathful swains of eight and nine
confronting each other stride-legs, flushed with jealousy; for to
carry home a young lady's books was both a delicate attention and a
privilege.
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