Augustus Carp, Esq., by Himself: Being the Autobiography of a Really Good ManBashford, H. H. (Henry Howarth), Sir
General
Augustus Carp, Esq., by Himself: Being the Autobiography of a Really Good Man
Bashford, H. H. (Henry Howarth), Sir
English fiction -- 20th century; Humorous stories; Satire
Followed by fish, partridges and salad, bowls of stewed fruit and
Devonshire cream, it was concluded with a savoury consisting of stuffed
eggs mounted on triangular pieces of toast, and I was gratified to
observe that, apart from water, the only other beverage was Portugalade.
It was again, to my annoyance, however, served in wine glasses, although
Miss Moonbeam immediately apologized, pouring out a tumblerful for me
with her own hand, just as I was beginning my second partridge. Nor did
I find it any less agreeable than upon my first acquaintance with it at
the theatre, and indeed I had seldom experienced such a sense of warmth
and comfort as it very quickly began to endow me with. Peculiarly
attractive to the nostril, it was no less grateful to the tongue, while
upon its downward passage, it lent an extraordinary balm to a naturally
irritable digestive system.
Nay, it did more, for as it enriched the blood mounting to an always
responsive brain, I found myself the vehicle of a delightful flow of new
and most valuable ideas. I say valuable, and this was indeed the case,
but many of them were also outstandingly humorous, and time after time I
was obliged to call for silence so that none of those present might fail
to hear them. I was glad to perceive, too, that they met with an instant
response both in laughter and rapt attention, and I was soon convinced
that, beneath the trappings of guilt, there was a spark of goodness in
most of my listeners. Nor had Miss Moonbeam, who kept my tumbler filled,
ever appeared to me to be so well worth saving, and when I accidentally
upset my fruit, she was solicitude’s self as she wiped my waistcoat.
By a second mischance, too, I spilt my coffee, which was served at the
supper-table just before we rose; and on this occasion also she was
instantly at hand to remove the stains from the upper part of my
trousers. Then we rose for grace, which I proposed should be sung, and
into the singing of which I threw my whole being; and when I found
myself swaying a little, owing to the consequent fatigue, both she and
the naval officer kindly supported me. Indeed so acute was the resulting
vertigo that I was not only obliged for a moment to sit down, but I
found myself only too glad to rely on their aid as we descended the
front steps to the waiting vehicles. Glad as I was, however, they both
assured me that they were gladder even than I was, while the others
assured us, as we glanced across the pavement, that they were gladder
even than we were. In fact we were all glad, and although I had been a
little perturbed by the physical disability to which I have referred, I
was soon restored by the night air, the motion of the vehicle, and the
prospects of the meeting. Moreover the naval officer had brought with
him a large bottle of the Portugalade, and a further draught of this at
once completed, and indeed augmented, my sense of well-being.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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