While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. . She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him. A dozen words, and he saw Enschede as clearly as though he stood hard by in the flesh.
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