Venning, she was
proud; of Mrs. Fisher, she was a delicate little baby-fool. What did I
think of this one? Why, he was a fine gentleman. What did I say to that
one? Why, she was a fine lady. What could you expect them to be (I
asked Charker), nursed in that climate, with the tropical night shining
for them, musical instruments playing to them, great trees bending over
them, soft lamps lighting them, fire-flies sparkling in among them,
bright flowers and birds brought into existence to please their eyes,
delicious drinks to be had for the pouring out, delicious fruits to be
got for the picking, and every one dancing and murmuring happily in the
scented air, with the sea breaking low on the reef for a pleasant chorus.
"Fine gentlemen and fine ladies, Harry?" I says to Charker. "Yes, I
think so! Dolls! Dolls! Not the sort of stuff for wear, that comes of
poor private soldiering in the Royal Marines!"
However, I could not gainsay that they were very hospitable people, and
that they treated us uncommonly well. Every man of us was at the
entertainment, and Mrs. Belltott had more partners than she could dance
with: though she danced all night, too. As to Jack (whether of the
Christopher Columbus, or of the Pirate pursuit party, it made no
difference), he danced with his brother Jack, danced with himself, danced
with the moon, the stars, the trees, the prospect, anything.
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