Then sea-usages had carried themselves into shore life. The company were continually getting up to look out of windows, watching the vessels that passed, remarking on the state of the tide, and then, resuming their places with a muttering over the "half ebb," and that the wind was "northing-by-west," looked for change. All the conversation smacked of salt-water; every allusion had an odor of tar and seaweed about it.
Poor Mrs. Davis! How was she to civilize these savages; how invest their lives with any interest above timber? They would not listen to the polite news of "Government House;" they would not vouchsafe the least attention to the interesting paragraphs she recited as table-talk,--how the Prince of Hohenhumbughousen had arrived at Windsor on a visit to Majesty, nor how Royalty walked in "The Slopes," or sat for its picture.
Of the "Duke of Northumberland," they only knew a troopship of the name, and even that had been waterlogged! The "Wellington" traded to Mirimachi, and the "Robert Peel" was a barque belonging to Newfoundland, and employed in general traffic, and not believed very seaworthy.
Some may make the ungracious remark that she might have spared herself this task of humanizing; that she could have left these "ligneous Christians," these creatures of tar and turpentine, where she found them. The same observation will apply equally to Cooke, to Franklin, to Brooke of Borneo, and a hundred other civilizers: so Mrs. D. felt it, and so she labored to make T. J. feel it; but he would n't. The ungrateful old bear saw the ordinary grow daily thinner; he perceived that Banquo might have seated himself at any part of the table, and he actually upbraided his wife with the fact. Every day he announced some new defection from the list of their old supporters. Now it was old Ben Crosseley, of the "Lively Biddy," that would n't stand being ordered to shake out his canvas--that is, to spread his napkin--when he was taking in sea store; then it was Tom Galket grew indignant at not being permitted to beat "to quarters" with his knuckles at every pause in the dinner. Some were put out by being obliged to sit with their legs under the table, being long habituated to dine at a cask with a plank on it, and of course keeping their limbs "stowed away" under the seat; and one, an old and much-respected river pilot, was carried away insensible from table, on hearing that grog was not a recognized table beverage throughout the British dominions.