that fellow.'
'It 's young Jocelyn egging him on,' said the chairman.
'Um!' added Drummond: 'it's the friend of that talkative rascal that 's
dangerous, if it comes to anything.'
Mr. Raikes perceived that his host desired him to conclude. So, lifting
his voice and swinging his arm, he ended: 'Allow me to propose to
you the Fly in Amber. In other words, our excellent host embalmed in
brilliant ale! Drink him! and so let him live in our memories for ever!'
He sat down very well contented with himself, very little comprehended,
and applauded loudly.
'The Flyin' Number!' echoed Farmer Broadmead, confidently and with
clamour; adding to a friend, when both had drunk the toast to the dregs,
'But what number that be, or how many 'tis of 'em, dishes me! But that
's ne'ther here nor there.'
The chairman and host of the evening stood up to reply, welcomed by
thunders--'There ye be, Mr. Tom! glad I lives to see ye!' and 'No
names!' and 'Long life to him!'
This having subsided, the chairman spoke, first nodding. 'You don't want
many words, and if you do, you won't get 'em from me.'
Cries of 'Got something better!' took up the blunt address.
'You've been true to it, most of you. I like men not to forget a
custom.'
'Good reason so to be,' and 'A jolly good custom,' replied to both
sentences.
'As to the beef, I hope you didn't find it tough: as to the ale--I know
all about THAT!'
'Aha! good!' rang the verdict.
'All I can say is, that this day next year it will be on the table,
and I hope that every one of you will meet Tom--will meet me here
punctually. I'm not a Parliament man, so that 'll do.'
The chairman's breach of his own rules drowned the termination of his
speech in an uproar.
Re-seating himself, he lifted his glass, and proposed: 'The
Antediluvians!'
Farmer Broadmead echoed: 'The Antediloovians!' appending, as a private
sentiment, 'And dam rum chaps they were!'
The Antediluvians, undoubtedly the toast of the evening, were
enthusiastically drunk, and in an ale of treble brew.
When they had quite gone down, Mr. Raikes ventured to ask for the reason
of their receiving such honour from a posterity they had so little to do
with. He put the question mildly, but was impetuously snapped at by the
chairman.
'You respect men for their luck, sir, don't you? Don't be a hypocrite,
and say you don't--you do. Very well: so do I. That's why I drink "The
Antediluvians"!'
'Our worthy host here' (
|