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- 3658
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 3598
- text
- a sort of pell-mell, indiscriminate affair, quite baffling to detail
in all particulars. Thus, I spoke of taking a glass of claret, and a
glass of sherry, and a glass of port, and a mug of ale--all at certain
specific periods and times. But those were merely the state bumpers,
so to speak. Innumerable impromptu glasses were drained between the
periods of those grand imposing ones.
The nine bachelors seemed to have the most tender concern for each
other's health. All the time, in flowing wine, they most earnestly
expressed their sincerest wishes for the entire well-being and lasting
hygiene of the gentlemen on the right and on the left. I noticed that
when one of these kind bachelors desired a little more wine (just for
his stomach's sake, like Timothy), he would not help himself to it
unless some other bachelor would join him. It seemed held something
indelicate, selfish and unfraternal to be seen taking a lonely,
unparticipated glass. Meantime, as the wine ran apace, the spirits of
the company grew more and more to perfect genialness and unconstraint.
They related all sorts of pleasant stories. Choice experiences in their
private lives were now brought out, like choice brands of Moselle or
Rhenish, only kept for particular company. One told us how mellowly he
lived when a student at Oxford; with various spicy anecdotes of most
frank-hearted noble lords, his liberal companions. Another bachelor, a
gray-headed man, with a sunny face, who, by his own account, embraced
every opportunity of leisure to cross over into the Low Countries,
on sudden tours of inspection of the fine old Flemish architecture
there--this learned, white-haired, sunny-faced old bachelor,
excelled in his descriptions of the elaborate splendors of those old
guild-halls, town-halls, and stadhold-houses, to be seen in the land
of the ancient Flemings. A third was a great frequenter of the British
Museum, and knew all about scores of wonderful antiquities, of Oriental
manuscripts, and costly books without a duplicate. A fourth had lately
returned from a trip to Old Granada, and, of course, was full of
Saracenic scenery. A fifth had a funny case in law to tell. A sixth
was erudite in wines. A seventh had a strange characteristic anecdote
of the private life of the Iron Duke, never printed, and never before
announced in any public or private company. An eighth had lately been
amusing his evening, now and then, with translating a comic poem of
Pulci's. He quoted for us the more amusing passages.
And so the evening slipped along, the hours told, not by a water-clock,
like King Alfred's but a wine-chronometer. Meantime the table seemed
a sort of Epsom Heath; a regular ring, where the decanters galloped
round. For fear one decanter should not with sufficient speed reach
his destination, another was sent express after him to hurry him; and
then a third to hurry the second; and so on with a fourth and fifth.
And throughout all this nothing loud, nothing unmannerly, nothing
turbulent. I am quite sure, from the scrupulous gravity and austerity
of his air, that had Socrates, the field marshal, perceived aught of
indecorum in the company he served, he would have forthwith departed
without giving warning. I afterward learned that during the repast,
an invalid bachelor in an adjoining chamber enjoyed his first sound
refreshing slumber in three long weary weeks.
It was the very perfection of quiet absorption of good living, good
drinking, good feeling, and good talk. We were a band of brothers.
Comfort--fraternal, household comfort, was the grand trait of the
affair. Also, you would plainly see that these easy-hearted men had no
wives or children to give an anxious thought. Almost all of them were
travelers, too; and without any twinges of their consciences touching
desertion of the fireside.
- title
- Chunk 5