owls, roasted sausages, roasted everything;
the centre dish being a side of a large hog, rolled up like an enormous
fillet of veal. This, too, was done ample justice to by the Portuguese part
of the company, at least; and all was cleared away for the dessert,
consisting of oranges, melons, pine-apples, guavas, citrons, bananas,
peaches, strawberries, apples, pears, and, indeed, of almost every fruit
which can be found in the whole world; all of which appear to naturalise
themselves at Madeira. It was now supposed by the uninitiated that the
dinner was over; but not so: the dessert was cleared away, and on came an
_husteron proteron_ medley of pies and puddings, in all their varieties,
smoking hot, boiled and baked; custards and sweetmeats, cheese and olives,
fruits of all kinds preserved, and a hundred other things, from which the
gods preserve us! At last the feast was really over--the Portuguese picked
their teeth with their forks, and the wine was circulated briskly. On such
an occasion as the marriage of her daughter, the old lady had resolved to
tap a pipe of Madeira, which was, at the very least, fifty years old, very
fine in flavour, but, from having been so long in the wood, little inferior
in strength to genuine Cognac. The consequence was that many of the
gentlemen became noisy before the dinner was over; and their mirth was
increased to positive uproar upon a message being sent by the bishop,
ordering, upon pain of excommunication, that the ceremony should proceed no
further. The ladies retired to the withdrawing-room: the gentlemen soon
followed; but the effects of the wine were so apparent upon most of them
that Captain Drawlock summoned Newton to his assistance, and was in a state
of extreme anxiety until his "responsibilities" were safe at home. Shortly
afterwards, Captain Carrington and those who were the least affected, by
persuasion and force, removed the others from the house; and the bridal
party were left to themselves, to deliberate whether they should or should
not obey the preposterous demands of the reverend bishop.

Captain Carrington was excessively fond of a joke, and never lost the
opportunity when it occurred: now, it happened that in the party invited
there was a merchant of the name of Sullivan, who, upon his last visit to
England, had returned with a very pretty, and at the same time, a very
coquettish young lady as his wife. It happened, in the casualties of a
large dinner party, that the