A Madeira Party
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Produced by Al Haines.
A Madeira Party]
Title Page]
_A Madeira Party_
_By_
_S. Weir Mitchell_
_M.D., LL.D. (Harv.)_
_Author of "Characteristics" "When all the Woods are Green" Etc., Etc._
_New York The Century Co. 1895_
Copyright, 1895, By THE CENTURY CO.
THE DEVINNE PRESS.
*CONTENTS*
A MADEIRA PARTY"A LITTLE MORE BURGUNDY"
Bowl]
*A MADEIRA PARTY*
Sometime early in the second quarter of the century, in the City ofPenn, and in what was then known as Delaware-Fourth street, soon afterdusk in the evening, occurred the unimportant events of which I shallspeak.
The room was paneled in white three feet up from the floor, and abovethis a fox-hunt was repeated in lively colors on every square of thepaper which covered the walls. Great hickory logs, ablaze on the deephearth, cast rosy light on a mantelpiece, in the style of the Directory,pretty with Cupids in relief dragging chariots through a tangle ofroses. A similar pattern on the ceiling resembled what a visitor to theZooelogical Gardens may see to-day in the small yellow house called"Solitude," where Mr. Penn is said to have been agreeably naughty and byno means solitary.
Silver candlesticks lighted a table laid for four, and their light fellon buff and gold Nankin china, glass, and glistening plate. A negroservant, well on in years, dark as the mahogany he loved to polish, withfine contrast of very white hair, moved to and fro in the room. Histask was clearly grateful. To adjust a fork, snuff a wick, flick thedust off a carved Cupid, evidently gave him a certain grave pleasure. Atlast, retreating a little with head on one side, artist-like, heconsidered for a moment the table and the setting. This final surveyappeared to be entirely to his liking, for with a smile of satisfactionhe turned to inspect a row of decanters on the mantel. One by one helifted them gently, saw that the glass was clean, and for a momentlooked through each decanter in turn as he held it before the light of acandelabrum on the side-table. The necessity to present a wineabsolutely free from sediment he very well knew. But it is probable thathe also found distinct pleasure in the brilliant garnets and variedamber tints of the several wines before him; for he possessed, like mostof his race, an appreciative joy in color, and had, too, more or lessartistic pleasure in the perfection of the gleaming table and itsperfect appointments. At last he turned to consider the question of thetemperature of the precious wines in his charge. Once or twice, when tohis touch a decanter seemed too cool, he lifted it with care, moved itto the hearth, and after turning it about before the fire set it back onthe mantel. Finally he looked up at the tall Wagstaffe clock in thecorner, compared with it a huge silver watch which he took from his fob,and throwing open a pair of mahogany doors, stood aside as fourgentlemen entered the room. Each, as he went by, spoke a kindly word tothe old servant. I can fancy the party made a quaint and pleasantpicture in the old-fashioned chamber, with their close-fitting nankeenpantaloons, ample shirt-ruffles, voluminous neckties, and brass-buttonedblue coats.
"Pray be seated," said Hamilton. "Sit on my right, Chestnut. I wish tosee that my good wine is not wasted. Your first Madeira-drinking willseem strange to you. Thirty years away in Europe! Why, you were but aboy when you left us! Well, we are glad to have you back again."
"And I as pleased to be at home," said Chestnut. As he spoke he notedwith the readiness of a close observer of social life the gentlemenabout him as they settled themselves at table with an obvious air ofcontentment. One, a strangely slight and very ruddy old man, afteradjusting his napkin with care over his waistcoat, said, as he lookedup, "Well, well, you have lost a good deal of time."
"That is sadly true," said the stranger guest. "I have tasted noMadeira these twenty years."
"Then I fear, my friend, from what Hamilton tells me, that you willhardly appreciate the charm of one of these little occasions."
"But how could I? And still, let me assure you, my dear Mr. Wilmington,that the importance of the opportunity will not be lost on me, nor thegood wine either, sir."
"I trust not," said the elder man. "To consider with care some newMadeiras is--well, for that a man should have perfect health and entiretranquillity of mind. Sir, the drinking of these great wines issomething more than a social ceremony or the indulgence of an appetite.It is, sir,--but I see Francis smiling--you may imagine the rest. I hadan old friend who, when dying, declined to have his wine whey made outof a famous old Madeira, saying that it was a waste of a good thing on apalate which was past knowing sherry from port. That was, in my opinion,a well-bred and judicious use of conscience."
"There was a certain refinement of unselfishness about it," saidChestnut. "I was on the point of asking you if, in your opinion, thesefiner wines are apt to tempt men into coarser indulgence? I have heardit so said."
"I do not think it," returned Wilmington. "I am well aware, sir, thatthere are brutes who may make worse pigs of themselves with Madeira, orwith anything; but as far as my memory serves me, I recall no occasion,sir, on which I have seen men who truly appreciate this wine, the worsefor it."
"A pretty strong statement," laughed Francis.
"I hope, sir, you do not mean to doubt--"
"Oh, by no means," cried the other, interrupting the irascible old man."Not I. Pardon me--a thousand pardons!"
"Enough, sir! Thank you," and he bowed formally. "I was saying, or Iwas about to say, when--but, no matter"-- And he turned to their host:
"I hope, Hamilton, you have not arranged for a heavy supper."
"How could you suspect me of that? A trifle of terrapin, without winein the dressing, as a friend gave them to me last week in Baltimore.Then I shall offer you the breast of a canvasback. That is all. For anhonest and refined study of Madeiras which are new to the palate, oneshould have supped wisely and not too well."
"It seems so odd," said Chestnut, "to come back to terrapin andcanvasbacks. I was unwise enough to send my French servant yesterday tobuy some terrapin, never dreaming he could have any difficulty with awritten order, as also he speaks English fairly. He returned with thestatement that the old dealer you commended to me would not serve Mr.Hamilton's friend _parce qu'il n'avait pas des comtes._"
"Is that a true tale, Chestnut?" asked Francis, amid the amusement ofthe others.
"Yes, it is true. It was explained to me later that the dealer said theterrapin were not _counts_. I believe my man came back with an obscureidea that terrapin belong to the nobility. He did fetch me some veryfine ducks, however."
"Talking of ducks, my dear Wilmington," said Francis, "tell Chestnutwhat Wharton said of them at dinner here last week."
The gentleman addressed looked up. His face, on which were many furrowsof laughter, grew slowly merry at the remembrance of the jest he wascalled on to repeat.
"Oh, some of us were rather heavily discussing the duck-shooting on theChesapeake. Wharton does not shoot, and, getting tired of the talk, saidquietly, 'Did it ever happen to any of you to go out after Russia duckand get nothing but canvas back?"
"For a moment we were all caught by the verbal likelihood of it; butwhen the laugh came it broke up the duck talk, to Wharton's delight."
"Ah, he said charming things
; and now they are mostly forgotten," saidthe host.
"Well, well," cried Wilmington, "so are the dinner and the wine of lastyear; but one would have been worse off without them. What was it hesaid of Colonel M----? Oh, yes. How the merry ghost of a jest hauntsone, and at last recalls the substance! The colonel had been in thearmy, and later settled on a sugar-plantation. Wharton said of him,quoting Burns, "'His 'prentice han' he tried on man, and then he madethe lasses O!"'"
"Delightful!" cried Chestnut.
"Here is the terrapin," said Hamilton; and the supper went on withluxurious simplicity. Next came the ducks, which the host adroitlycarved. Then the cloth was removed, the shining candelabra replaced onthe polished mahogany table, and a crust of bread on a plate