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Tales of a Traveller by Washington Irving
page 6 of 380 (01%)

The dinner was prolonged till a late hour; for our host having no
ladies in his household to summon us to the drawing-room, the bottle
maintained its true bachelor sway, unrivalled by its potent enemy the
tea-kettle. The old hall in which we dined echoed to bursts of
robustious fox-hunting merriment, that made the ancient antlers shake
on the walls. By degrees, however, the wine and wassail of mine host
began to operate upon bodies already a little jaded by the chase. The
choice spirits that flashed up at the beginning of the dinner, sparkled
for a time, then gradually went out one after another, or only emitted
now and then a faint gleam from the socket.

Some of the briskest talkers, who had given tongue so bravely at the
first burst, fell fast asleep; and none kept on their way but certain
of those long-winded prosers, who, like short-legged hounds, worry on
unnoticed at the bottom of conversation, but are sure to be in at the
death. Even these at length subsided into silence; and scarcely any
thing was heard but the nasal communications of two or three veteran
masticators, who, having been silent while awake, were indemnifying
the company in their sleep.

At length the announcement of tea and coffee in the cedar parlor
roused all hands from this temporary torpor. Every one awoke
marvellously renovated, and while sipping the refreshing beverage out
of the Baronet's old-fashioned hereditary china, began to think of
departing for their several homes. But here a sudden difficulty arose.
While we had been prolonging our repast, a heavy winter storm had set
in, with snow, rain, and sleet, driven by such bitter blasts of wind,
that they threatened to penetrate to the very bone.

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