When he had given that order, he walked off in the coat, and all our
names were taken, and I was afterwards told that Mr. Kitten wrote from
his dictation more than a bushel of large paper on the subject, which
cost more before it was done with, than ever could be calculated, and
which only got done with after all, by being lost.

Our work went on merrily, nevertheless, and the Christopher Columbus,
hauled up, lay helpless on her side like a great fish out of water. While
she was in that state, there was a feast, or a ball, or an entertainment,
or more properly all three together, given us in honour of the ship, and
the ship's company, and the other visitors. At that assembly, I believe,
I saw all the inhabitants then upon the Island, without any exception. I
took no particular notice of more than a few, but I found it very
agreeable in that little corner of the world to see the children, who
were of all ages, and mostly very pretty--as they mostly are. There was
one handsome elderly lady, with very dark eyes and gray hair, that I
inquired about. I was told that her name was Mrs. Venning; and her
married daughter, a fair slight thing, was pointed out to me by the name
of Fanny Fisher. Quite a child she looked, with a little copy of herself
holding to her dress; and her husband, just come back from the mine,
exceeding proud of her. They were a good-looking set of people on the
whole, but I didn't like them. I was out of sorts; in conversation with
Charker, I found fault with all of them. I said of Mrs. Venning, she was
proud; of Mrs. Fisher, she was a delicate little baby-fool. What did I
think of this one? Why, he was a fine gentleman. What did I say to that
one? Why, she was a fine lady. What could you expect them to be (I
asked Charker), nursed in that climate, with the tropical night shining
for them, musical instruments playing to them, great trees bending over
them, soft lamps lighting them, fire-flies sparkling in among them,