206 BRANDY AND SEA SICKNESS. 



There had been a matrimonial squabble of a very ludicrous kind 

 in the cabin, between the little German tailor and his little wife. 

 He had secured two beds, one for himself, and one for lier. This 

 had struck the little woman as a very cruel action ; she insisted 

 upon their having but one, and assured the mate in the most 

 piteous tones, that she was his lawful wife. The mate and the 

 cabin boy decided in her favour, abused the little man for his want 

 of tenderness with m.uch humour, and hoisted him into the same 

 compartment with his sea-sick wife. This quarrel was interesting 

 to me, as it procured me a bed, which I otherwise should not 

 have had. 



In the evening, at 7 o'clock, the sea rolled higher, and the 

 Dane, by means of the greater agitation, eliminated enough of 

 what he had been swallowing to make room for a great deal more. 

 His favourite potation was sugar and brandy, i. e. a very little 

 warm water with a large quantity of brandy, sugar, and nutmeg. 

 His servant boy, a black- eyed Mulatto, had a good-natured round 

 face, exactly the colour of the skin of the walnut-kernel. The 

 Dane and I were again seated, tete a tcte, in the ship's boat. 

 The conversation, which was now indeed rather an oration than 

 a dialogue, became extravagant beyond ail that I ever heard. He 

 told me that he had made a large fortune in the island of Santa 

 Crux, and was now returning to Denmark to enjoy it. He ex- 

 patiated on the style in which he meant to live, and the great un- 

 dertakings which he proposed to himself to commence, till the 

 brandy aiding his vanity, and his vanity and garrulity aiding the 

 brandy, he talked like a madman — entreated me to accompany 

 him to Denmark — there I should see his influence with the go- 

 vernment, and he would introduce me to the king, &c. &c. Thus 

 he went on dreaming aloud, and then passing with a very lyrical 

 transition to the subject of general politics, he declaimed, like a 

 member of the Corresponding Society, about (not concerning) the 

 Rights of Man, and assured me that notwithstanding his fortune, 

 he tliought the poorest man alive his equal. All are equal, my 

 dear friend, all are equal ; Ve are all Got's children. The poor- 

 est man haf the same rights with me. Jack, Jack, some more 

 sugar and brandy, Dhere is dhat fellow now : He is a Mulatto 

 — but he is my equal. — That 's right, Jack, (taking the sugar 

 and brandy.) Here you Sir, shake hands with dhis gentleman; 

 Shake hands with me, you dog ; Dhere dhere, — we are all equal 



my dear friend. Do I not speak like Socrates, and Plato, and 



Cato — they were all philosophers, my dear philosophe, all very 



