ever was,'
said Barbara.

'Nonsense!' returned Kit. 'She was well enough, I don't deny that; but
think how she was dressed and painted, and what a difference that made.
Why YOU are a good deal better looking than her, Barbara.'

'Oh Christopher!' said Barbara, looking down.

'You are, any day,' said Kit, '--and so's your mother.'

Poor Barbara!

What was all this though--even all this--to the extraordinary
dissipation that ensued, when Kit, walking into an oyster-shop as bold
as if he lived there, and not so much as looking at the counter or the
man behind it, led his party into a box--a private box, fitted up with
red curtains, white table-cloth, and cruet-stand complete--and ordered
a fierce gentleman with whiskers, who acted as waiter and called him,
him Christopher Nubbles, 'sir,' to bring three dozen of his
largest-sized oysters, and to look sharp about it! Yes, Kit told this
gentleman to look sharp, and he not only said he would look sharp, but
he actually did, and presently came running back with the newest
loaves, and the freshest butter, and the largest oysters, ever seen.
Then said Kit to this gentleman, 'a pot of beer'--just so--and the
gentleman, instead of replying, 'Sir, did you address that language to
me?' only said, 'Pot o' beer, sir? Yes, sir,' and went off and fetched
it, and put it on the table in a small decanter-stand, like those which
blind-men's dogs carry about the streets in their mouths, to catch the
half-pence in; and both Kit's mother and Barbara's mother declared as
he turned away that he was one of the slimmest and gracefullest young
men she had ever looked upon.

Then they fell to work upon the supper in earnest; and there was
Barbara, that foolish Barbara, declaring that she could not eat more
than two, and wanting more pressing than you would believe before she
would eat four: though her mother and Kit's mother made up for it
pretty well, and ate and laughed and enjoyed themselves so thoroughly
that it did Kit good to see them, and made him laugh and eat likewise
from strong sympathy. But the greatest miracle of the night was little
Jacob, who ate oysters as if he had been born and bred to the
business--sprinkled the pepper and the vinegar with a discretion beyond
his years--and afterwards built a grotto on the table with the shells.
There was the baby too, who had never closed an eye all night, but had
sat as good as gold, trying to force a large orange into his mouth, and