The admiral filled the large glass with port, filled his own glass with
claret, and raised it to his lips.
"God bless the Queen, Mazey," said the admiral.
"God bless the Queen, your honor," said old Mazey, swallowing his port,
as the dogs swallowed the made-dishes, at a gulp.
"How's the wind, Mazey?"
"West and by Noathe, your honor."
"Any report to-night, Mazey!"
"No report, your honor."
"Good-evening, Mazey."
"Good-evening, your honor."
The after-dinner ceremony thus completed, old Mazey made his bow, and
walked out of the room again. Brutus and Cassius stretched themselves on
the rug to digest mushrooms and made gravies in the lubricating heat of
the fire. "For what we have received, the Lord make us truly thankful,"
said the admiral. "Go downstairs, my good girl, and get your supper. A
light meal, Lucy, if you take my advice--a light meal, or you will
have the nightmare. Early to bed, my dear, and early to rise, makes
a parlor-maid healthy and wealthy and wise. That's the wisdom of
your ancestors--you mustn't laugh at it. Good-night." In those words
Magdalen was dismissed; and so her first day's experience of Admiral
Bartram came to an end.
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