"One sometimes feels in this air equal to
holding a discourse, across the Atlantic, with his friends at Scheveling,
or the Helder. A broad and deep chest, air like this from the sea, with a
clear conscience, and a lucky hit in the way of trade, cause the lungs of
a man to play as easily and as imperceptibly as the wings of a
humming-bird.--Let me see; there are few four-score men in thy stock. The
last Patroon closed the books at sixty-six; and his father went but a
little beyond seventy. I wonder, there has never been an intermarriage,
among you, with the Van Courtlandts; that blood is as good as an insurance
to four-score and ten, of itself."
"I find the air of your villa, Mr. Van Beverout, a cordial that one could
wish to take often," returned the other, who had far less of the brusque
manner of the trader, than his companion. "It is a pity that all who have
the choice, do not profit by their opportunities to breathe it."
"You allude to the lazy mariners in yon vessel! Her Majesty's servants are
seldom in a hurry; and as for this brigantine in the Cove, the fellow
seems to have gotten in by magic! I warrant me, now, the rogue is there
for no good, and that the Queen's Exchequer will be none the richer for
his visit. Harkee, you Brom," calling to an aged black, who was working at
no great distance from the dwelling, and who was deep in his master's
confidence, "hast seen any boats plying between yonder roguish-looking
brigantine and the land?"
The negro shook his head, like the earthen image of a mandarin, and
laughed loud and heartily.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180