A party of some fifteen persons, not by any means all gentlemen, was
sitting round a medium-sized table, spread with cups and dishes. The
entire company, if they had not been bathing, were apparently preparing
to do so, except one gentleman, who was so encased in armour that it
would have been a very tedious job to take it off, and one lady, who was
also got up in a military fashion, and carried a very ugly shield on her
arm. The person at the head of the table was an imposing-looking
gentleman, who held a sort of stuffed football in his hand, and had a
tame eagle perched on his shoulder. Near him was a very good-looking,
self-satisfied fellow with long curls, who had evidently been
entertaining the company with a performance on a Jew's harp. Then there
was a lame old gentleman, who looked as if he would be all the better
for his bath when the time came, who carried a big sledge-hammer in his
hand; and another fishy sort of person, who flourished about with a
three-pronged pitchfork. A very cross-looking lady sat next to the
gentleman at the head of the table. By the way she kept her eye upon
him, contradicting every word he said, and snubbing him at every
opportunity, she was evidently his wife. Another good-looking lady was
playing with a very pert-looking boy, who wore a pair of toy wings on
his shoulders, and appeared to be a general favourite with every one
except the other ladies, who seemed generally a disagreeable lot, and
not at all good form in their manners at table.
The refreshments were being served by a nice-looking housemaid and a
page-boy, who had their work cut out for them in keeping every one
supplied. For these ladies and gentlemen, whatever else may be said of
them, had uncommonly good appetites.
Magnus minor and Joe were too busy at first taking stock of the
provender to devote much attention to the picnic party itself; but when
at last they did take a look round, each uttered a cry of consternation,
and crowded up to his chum for protection.
"Joey," said Magnus, "don't you know them?"
"Rather," said Joe. "I could tell them at once from the likenesses in--
what do you call him's--Smith's classical thingamybob. It's Olympus,
after all!"
"So it is," groaned Magnus. "Oh, Jupiter!"
At the mention of his name, the gentleman at the head of the table
looked up.
"I beg your pardon," said he, in fairly good English.
His manner rather overawed the two boys, who thought it wise to be civil
to begin with, at any rate.
So they touched their caps, and Magnus said--
"Do you happen to know the shortest cut down to Llanberis, sir?"
"We've lost our way, don't you know," said Joe; "and we've got to catch
the last train back to--you know--what's-his-name--Llandudno."
Jove looked a little scared, and, by way of intimating that he did not
understand a word, shook his head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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