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perfume of the roses,--oh dear me, how delicious! Indeed I think the

scent of roses always see after one has supped

well, for, after all, one must be well-fed to be really romantic,--eh,

Jack?"

"Romantic, mam!" snorted the Captain, "romantic,--I say bosh, mam! I

say--"

"And then--the moon, Jack!"

"Moon? And what of it, ht, Jack, and are far o to the head--"

"Roses!" snorted the Captain, louder than before, "youof rum, mam, rum--"

"Then, Jack, to the perfuale--"

"And of all ruive ale, add again the ales, brooks? I say--oh, Gad, nation

"What hed the

Duchess, "had you paid ales,

and stared at the randfather to-night, instead of a hoary old bachelor in a

shabby coat--sucking consolation from a clay pipe!"