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So that Mrs O'Flinn did me a good turn at last, as I should have neglected my promise, if she had not made her appearance, sailing along like an elephantine Cleopatra. I had not called upon old Waghorn, the uncle of Jane; as I was fearful that he might recognise the pretended agent of former days with the now captain of the Circe.
The reader may probably recollect Miss Medea, who knew so well how to put that and that together; and her mother, who I presumed had long ago been suffocated in her own fat, a fate which I thought that Mrs O'Flinn would meet with as well as her mother. The lady did not recognise me, which I was not sorry for. I certainly should have cut her dead.
It is a yacht belonging to an Irish Major O'Flinn, as he calls himself; why the O, I don't know; but he's a good fellow, and very amusing; there he is abaft; he has the largest whiskers you ever saw; but it is not of him I would speak. Wait a little, and as soon as the square sail is out of the way, you will see his wife. Such a whapper!
He never failed, on his way to Philadelphia, to stop at Wilmington and have a chat with one Captain O'Flinn, who kept a tavern and had been a Revolutionary soldier; and this was but a single instance among many of like character. Any soldier of the Revolution was always sure of a welcome at the hands of his old commander.
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