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- 12033
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- 12002
- text
- irreparable change that, alas, comes with years? Major Gentian, though a
soldier on the right side in the war, besides being of double
Revolutionary descent--so I am told--nevertheless is far from being that
sanguine New Yorker he used to be, and which in true patriotism we are
all bound to be? What is this, I would like to know, but the natural
optimist doting into the deplorable pessimist.’
Indeed, Dean, but they do cut and come again at thee, yes, even say
these things of thee and more. But never a Burgundian among them, our
Club harbouring none of that kidney. Outsiders they are, the profane;
the seniors, some of them, confirmed tipplers of tea, a decoction that
enlarges the spleen and warpest the brain, or lightly floating the
spirit for a while at last lands it in a dry place. However, I will not
gainsay these young roosters and old hens, since on some points upon
which they click-clock the basis of their talk is true enough. But in
the crooked mouth of the invidious, imparting its own twist to all it
utters, in effect even veracity lies. Fail thou yet mayest, Major, but
never degenerate. Thou mayest _outlive thy usefulness_ (execrable
phrase!) but never thy loving-kindness. To the last thou wilt be Jack
Gentian; not too dignified to be humane; a democrat, though less of the
stump than the heart. And should mortal decline come--which Heaven long
defer--and the Black Brunswicker lay siege to thee in thy bachelor
tower, thy compatriots, those who best know the true temper of thy
genial spirit, would still call thee _Jack_ as in the days of their
youth, and though debility should then tongue-tie thee, thou wouldst
still respond to them out of thy waning eyes.
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