The Broad Highway

And what a meal was that! with those deft, whitecapped maids to

wait upon our wants, and with Prudence hovering here and there to

see that all were duly served, and refusing to sit down until

George's great arm--a very gentle arm for one so strong and big

--drew her down beside him.

Yes, truly, what a meal that was, and how the Ancient chuckled,

and dug me with one bony elbow and George with the other, and

chuckled again till he choked, and choked till he gasped, and

gasped till he had us all upon our feet, then demanded indignantly

why we couldn't let him "enj'y hisself in peace."

And now, when the meal was nearly over, he suddenly took it into

his head that Prue didn't love George as she should and as he

deserved to be, and nothing would content him but that she must

kiss him then and there.

"An' not on the forr'ud, mind--nor on the cheek, but on the place

as God made for it--the mouth, my lass!"

And now, who so shy and blushing as Prue, and who so nervous, for

her sake, as Black George, very evidently clasping her hand under

the table, and bidding her never to mind--as he was content, and

never to put herself out over such as him. Whereupon Mistress

Prue must needs turn, and taking his bead between her hands,

kissed him--not once, or twice, but three times, and upon "the

place God made for it--the mouth."

O gleaming Cutlasses! O great Brass Jack and glittering Pots and

Pans! can ye any longer gleam and glitter and twinkle in doubt?

Alas! I trow not. Therefore it is only natural and to be

expected that beneath your outward polish lurk black and bitter

feelings against this curly-headed giant, and a bloodthirsty

desire for vengeance. If so, then one and all of you have, at

least, the good feeling not to show it, a behavior worthy of

gentlemen--what do I say?--of gentlemen?--fie! rather let it be

said--of pots and pans.