n in
the navy. She lived for scores and scores of years in a dear little
old Hampshire town inhabited by the wives, widows, daughters of navy
captains, admirals, lieutenants. Dear me! Don't I remember Mrs. Duval,
widow of Admiral Duval; and the Miss Dennets, at the Great House at the
other end of the town, Admiral Dennet's daughters; and the Miss Barrys,
the late Captain Barry's daughters; and the good old Miss Maskews,
Admiral Maskew's daughter; and that dear little Miss Norval, and the
kind Miss Bookers, one of whom married Captain, now Admiral Sir Henry
Excellent, K.C.B.? Far, far away into the past I look and see the little
town with its friendly glimmer. That town was so like a novel of Miss
Austen's that I wonder was she born and bred there? No, we should have
known, and the good old ladies would have pronounced her to be a
little idle thing, occupied with her silly books and neglecting her
housekeeping. There were other towns in England, no doubt, where dwelt
the widows and wives of other navy captains; where they tattled, loved
each other, and quarrelled; talked about Betty the maid, and her fine
ribbons indeed! took their dish of tea at six, played at quadrille every
night till ten, when there was a little bit of supper, after which Betty
came with the lanthorn; and next day came, and next, and next, and so
forth, until a day arrived when the lanthorn was out, when Betty came
no more: all that little company sank to rest under the daisies, whither
some folks will presently follow them. How did they live to be so old,
those good people? Moi qui vous parle, I perfectly recollect old Mr.
Gilbert, who had been to sea with Captain Cook; and Captain Cook, as you
justly observe, dear Miss, quoting out of your "Mangnall's Questions,"
was murdered by the natives of Owhyhee, anno 1779. Ah! don't you
remember his picture, standing on the seashore, in tights and gaiters,
with a musket in his hand, pointing to his people not to fire from the
boats, whilst a great tattooed savage is going to stab him in the
back? Don't you remember those houris dancing before him and the other
officers at the great Otaheite ball? Don't you know that Cook was at the
siege of Quebec, with the glorious Wolfe, who fought under the Duke of
Cumberland, whose royal father was a distinguished officer at Ramillies,
before he commanded in chief at Dettingen? Huzza! Give it them, my lads!
My horse is down? Then I know I shall not run away. Do the French