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They appeared as if they could not rest without helping on somebody or something, and yet there was in Mrs. Saskabasquia at least, a delightful sense of calm which affected all who came near her.
"I am sure you need the rest quite as much as he does, particularly if the ba if the little boy is very young and you that is " I was not very clear as to what I was going to say, but she took it up for me. "Oh, James is the baby. He is just six months' old, you know." "That is very young to travel," said I. I began to enjoy the charming confidences of Mrs. Saskabasquia, in spite of myself.
I have seen the last of Madame; in all probability I shall see the last of the Pea-Green Parrot, and I cannot help wondering when I enter a cafe or ride on an omnibus whether I shall ever run across Giuseppe Martinetti in the flesh, or whether the last of him was seen in truth, five years ago. The Bishop of Saskabasquia. I have not a story, properly speaking, to tell about him.
Run and fetch her and you, George, get one of the chairs ready for her. And get the rugs at the same time Alick, do you hear?" I excused myself in turn and watched the family preparations with much amusement. Mrs. Saskabasquia came up from her state room with a baby in her arms, and a big fellow he was, followed by the other six and their aunt.
So I got the poor old thing a warm cup of tea and gave her some thick socks and sent her away relieved, resolved to spread myself on the pudding. Do you remember Kathleen!" And Miss Saskabasquia did and smiled at the remembrance. "What was it like?" "The pudding? Oh! It was the funniest pudding! George no Ethel, was the baby then and very troublesome. Yes, you were my dear and cutting teeth.
The Bishop stopped directly. "Go on, go on with your dinner, my dear; I'll see to him, its only James. Dropped his rattle and put his finger in his eye, I expect." He jumped up and went, I suppose, to the stateroom. Mrs. Saskabasquia laughed softly, and when she spoke she rather addressed herself to me. "My husband is very good, you know.
I began to consider, and rightly I think, the unknown, obscure Bishop of Saskabasquia one of the most interesting men of the day. Our journey, however, could not always last. Our pleasant chats, our lively table-talk, Mrs. Saskabasquia's pretty womanly confidences and her husband's deep-voiced readings from Dickens which he told me were of the utmost moral value to his people, all came to an end.
Mrs. Saskabasquia as I called her all through the voyage and the seven children seven little Saskabasquians and Miss Saskabasquia, the aunt, were all merry enough it seemed though dressed in the most unearthly costumes I had ever seen. Where they had been procured I could not imagine, but they appeared to be made of different kinds of canvas, flannel shirting, corduroy, knitted wool and blankets.
Saskabasquia laughed in her turn, and I began to perceive what a very pretty girl she must have been once, and her accent was the purest, most beautiful English. We seemed to warm up generally around the table as we watched the Bishop eat. The boys behaved beautifully and enjoyed their meal as well. Presently we heard a baby crying. It was evidently the youngest of the seven young Saskabasquians.
I am invited to a Christmas dinner, whenever I like, with the Bishop of Saskabasquia, whom I count as perhaps the finest specimen of healthy Christian manhood I have ever met, and although I can still laugh at the fun of "The Private Secretary" I can say that even among her clergy England can boast of heroes in these latter days as noble and disinterested as in years gone by.
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