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pail before her, as then he could address her with safety; and Winterbottom staggered up to take the seat. As he was seating himself, Tom took off the cover, so that he was plunged into the half-liquid ice; but Mr Winterbottom was too drunk to perceive it. He continued to rant and to rave, and protest and vow, and even spout for some time, when suddenly the quantity of caloric extracted from him produced its effect. "I--I--really believe that the night is damp--the dew falls--the seat is damp, fair Titania." "It's only fancy, Mr Winterbottom," replied Titania who was delighted with his situation. "Jean trousers are cool in the evening; it's only an excuse to get away from me, and I never will speak again to you if you quit your seat." "The fair Titania, the mistress of my soul, and body too, if she pleases--has--but to command--and her slave obeys." "I rather think it is a little damp," said Tinfoil; "allow me to throw a little sand upon your seat;" and Tinfoil pulled out a large paper bag full of salt, which he strewed over the ice. Winterbottom was satisfied, and remained; but by the time we had reached Vauxhall Bridge, the refrigeration had become so complete that he was fixed on the ice, which the application of the salt had made solid. He complained of cold, shivered, attempted to rise, but could not extricate himself; at last his teeth chattered, and he became almost sober; but he was helpless from the effects of the castor oil, his intermediate intoxication, and his present state of numbness. He spoke less and less; at last he was silent, and when we arrived at Whitehall stairs he was firmly fixed in the ice. When released he could not walk, and he was sent home in a hackney-coach. "It was cruel to punish him so, Mr Tinfoil," said Titania. "Cruel punishment! Why, yes; a sort of _impailment_," replied Mr Tinfoil, offering his arm. The remainder of the party landed and walked home, followed by the two assistants, who took charge of the crockery; and thus ended the pic-nic party, which, as Tom said, was the very funniest day he had ever spent in his life. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. MR. TURNBULL "SETS HIS HOUSE IN ORDER"--MRS. T THINKS SUCH CONDUCT VERY DISORDERLY--THE CAPTAIN AT HIS OLD TRICKS WITH HIS HARPOON--HE PAYS HIS LADY'S DEBTS OF HONOUR, AND GIVES THE APPLICANT A QUITTANCE UNDER HIS OWN FOOT--MONSIEUR AND MADAME TAGLIABUE WITHDRAW FROM THE SOCIETY OF "CES BARBARES LES ANGLAIS."
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