"Major Flushfire, may I claim the privilege of the similar colour of our cloth to entreat the favour of your attention? Ah! heh!--but this land breeze-laden, perhaps, with the germs of the yellow-fever--mephitic--and all that--you understand me, Dr Thompson?" "As much as you do yourself." "Thank you--men of superior education--sympathy--and all that--you understand me fully, major. Now this night-breeze coming through that half-open jalousie--miasmata--and all that. Dr Armstrong, Dr Thompson--medical pill--`pillars of the state'--you will pardon the classical allusion--" "I won't," growled out the doctor. "Ah--so like you--so modest--but don't you think the draught is a little dangerous?" "Do you mean the doctor's, or this?" said the inattentive and thirsty major, fetching a deep breath, as he put down the huge glass tumbler of sangaree. "Oh dear, no!--I mean the night draught _through_ the window." "The best way to dispose of it," said the purser, nodding at the melting Galen. "No," replied Major Flushfire, courteously, "there's no danger in it at all--I like it." "Bless me, major," said the marine, "why it comes all in _gusts_." "Like it all the better," rejoined the major, with his head again half buried in the sangaree glass. "_Degustibus non est disputandum_," observed Thompson. "Very true," said the marine officer, looking sapiently. "That remark of yours about the _winds_ is opposite. We ought to _dispute_ their entrance, as you said in Latin. But is it quite fair, my dear doctor, for you and me to converse in Latin? We may be taking an undue advantage of the rest of the company." "Greek! Greek!" said the purser. "Ay, certainly--it was Greek to Mr Smallcoates," muttered Thompson. "To be sure it was," said the innocent marine. "Major Flushfire," continued he, once more upon his legs, "may I again entreat the honour of your attention. Dr Thompson has just proved by a quotation from a Greek author, Virgil or Paracelsus, I am not certain which, that the entrance of the night air into a hot room is highly injurious, and in-- in--and all that. You understand me perfectly--would it be asking too much to have all the windows closed?" "Ovens and furnaces!" cried out the chairman, starting up. "Look at me and worthy Dr Thompson. Are we persons to enjoy a repetition of the Black Hole of Calcutta? The sangaree, Quasha--suffocation! The thought chokes me!" and he recommenced his devotions to the sangaree. "It melts me," responded the doctor, swabbing his face with the napkin. "Are you afraid of taking cold?" said the purser to Mr Smallcoates. "Taking cold--let the gentleman take his wine," said the major.