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Not the highest position in life was this certainly, or one which, if we had a reverence for an old man, we would be anxious that he should occupy: but of this aged buffoon it may be mentioned that he had no particular idea that his condition of life was not a high one, and that in his whiskied blood there was not a black drop, nor in his muddled brains a bitter feeling, against any mortal being.
I had the pleasure of seeing that egotist hung, with these eyes. It was a slice of luck that, I grieve to say, has not occurred again to me. So much for a whiskied egotist.
The Takus, once a powerful and warlike tribe, were at this time, like most of the neighboring tribes, whiskied nearly out of existence. They had a larger village on the Taku River, but, according to the census taken that year by the missionaries, they numbered only 269 in all, 109 men, 79 women, and 81 children, figures that show the vanishing condition of the tribe at a glance.
Not the highest position in life was this certainly, or one which, if we had a reverence for an old man, we would be anxious that he should occupy: but of this aged buffoon it may be mentioned that he had no particular idea that his condition of life was not a high one, and that in his whiskied blood there was not a black drop, nor in his muddled brains a bitter feeling, against any mortal being.
"At 1.30 we stopped again for feed and water, and when we went on our mess sat down to the following lunch, which I think does credit to our catering powers. R.B.S. Emergency Soup. Cold Roast Fowl, with Stuffing. Bully Beef, with Mustard. Whiskied Biscuits. Desserts Variés. Chocolate. Ginger. Bonbons. Oranges. German Beer. Cigars. Cigarettes.
Up went the broken brim, and the whiskied face lighted with a shaking smile, "you turned some trick on that Calabasas crew some fight," Bull chuckled. "Bull, is old Duke Morgan a Republican?" Bull looked surprised at the turn of de Spain's question, but answered in good faith: "Duke votes 'most any ticket that's agin the railroad."
The Registrar looked up, but his spectacles did not appear to help him; the Assistant-Registrar, a tall, languid young man, who wore a carnation in his button-hole, yawned and called for order. The room was lighted by a skylight, and the light fell diffused on the hands and faces; and alternately and in combination the whiskied breath and the carnation's scent assailed the nostrils.
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