Green, "Were I such a man, I would pass by like shoddy such pitifuls
as colyumists." But he was a glad man no less, for he knew the
captain was bigger of heart. Besides, he counted on the exquisite
tact of the doctor to see him through. Indeed, even the stern
officials of the customs had marked the doctor as a man exceptional.
And as the club stood patiently among the outward flux of authentic
Glasgow, came the captain himself and welcomed them aboard.
Across immaculate decks, and in the immortal whiff, indefinable, of
a fine ship just off the high seas, trod the beatified club. A ship,
the last abiding place in a mannerless world of good old-fashioned
caste, and respect paid upward with due etiquette and discipline
through the grades of rank. The club, for a moment, were guests of
the captain; deference was paid to them. They stood in the captain's
cabin (sacred words). "Boy!" cried the captain, in tones of command.
Not as one speaks to office boys in a newspaper kennel, in a voice
of entreaty. The boy appeared: a curly-headed, respectful stripling.
A look of respect: how well it sits upon youth. "Boy!" said the
captain--but just what the captain said is not to be put upon vulgar
minutes. Remember, pray, the club was upon British soil.
In the saloon sat the club, and their faces were the faces of men at
peace, men harmonious and of delicate cheer.
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