rolific of spoony and porcelain accidents, so chatty,
and so generally riotous, as it was on a certain evening in June of the
year 1870, shortly after the return home of Robin and his companions.

Besides the original Wright family, consisting of father, mother, Robin,
and Madge, there were assembled uncle Rik, Sam Shipton, Mrs Langley,
Letta, and--no--not Jim Slagg. The circle was unavoidably incomplete,
for Jim had a mother, and Jim had said with indignant emphasis, "did
they suppose all the teas an' dinners an' suppers, to say nothin' o'
breakfasts, an' mess-mates an' chums an' friends, crammed and jammed
into one enormous mass temptation, would indooce him to delay his return
to that old lady for the smallest fraction of an hour?" No, Jim Slagg
was not at the table, but the household cat was under it, and the
demoralising attentions that creature received on that occasion went far
to undo the careful training of previous years.

The occasion of the gathering was not simple. It was compound. First,
it was in commemoration of Robin's birthday; second, it was to celebrate
the appointment of Sam Shipton to an influential position on the
electrical staff of the Telegraph Construction and Maintenance Company,
and Sam's engagement to Marjory Mayland; third, to celebrate the
appointment of Robin Wright to a sufficiently lucrative and hopeful post
under Sam; and, lastly, to enjoy the passing hour.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said uncle Rik, getting on his feet with some
difficulty, when the tea, toast, muffins, eggs, and other fare had
blunted the appetites, "I rise to propose the toast of the evening, and
mark you, I don't mean to use any butter with this toast," (_Hear_, from
Sam), "unless I'm egged on," (_Oh_!), "to do it--so I charge you to
charge your cups with tea, since we're not allowed grog in this
tee-total ship--though I'm free to confess that I go in with you there,
for I've long since given, up the use o' that pernicious though pleasant
beverage, takin' it always neat, now, in the form of cold water, varied
occasionally with hot tea and coffee. My toast, ladies and gentlemen,
is Rob--" (Rik put his hand to his throat to ease off his necktie), "is
Robin Wright, whom I've known, off an' on, as a babby, boy, an' man,
almost ever since that night--now twenty years ago, more or less--when
he was launched upon the sea in thunder, lightning, and in rain. I've
known him, I say--ever since--off an' on--and I'm bound