He is a
man fit to make proselytes among the wulgar and Irish,"--the Hibernian
peasant and the American negro are sworn enemies--"but quite unfit for
anything respectable or decent. Were it not for Sir George, I would
scarcely descend to clean his state-room."
"What is your sentiments, Mr. Saunders, respecting Sir George?"
"Why, Sir George is a titled gentleman, and of course is not to be
strictured too freely. He has complimented me already with a sovereign,
and apprised me of his intention to be more particular when we get in."
"I feel astonished such a gentleman should neglect to insure a state-room
to his own convenience."
"Sir George has elucidated all that in a conversation we had in his room,
soon after our acquaintance commenced. He is going to Canada on public
business, and sailed at an hour's interval. He was too late for a single
room, and his own man is to follow with most of his effects by the next
ship. Oh! Sir George may be safely put down as respectable and
liberalized, though thrown into disparagement perhaps by forty
circumstances."
Mr. Saunders, who had run his vocabulary hard in this conversation, meant
to say "fortuitous;" and Toast thought that so many circumstances might
well reduce a better man to a dilemma. After a moment of thought, or what
in his orbicular shining features he fancied passed for thought,
he said,--
"I seem to diwine, Mr.
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