"Yes, you see the A.C. now, but to understand it fully, you should have
had a share in those Arcadian experiences.... It was a lovely afternoon
in June when we first approached Arcadia.... Perkins Brown, Shelldrake's
boy-of-all-work, awaited us at the door. He had been sent on two or
three days in advance, to take charge of the house, and seemed to have
had enough of hermit-life, for he hailed us with a wild whoop, throwing
his straw hat half-way up one of the poplars. Perkins was a boy of
fifteen, the child of poor parents, who were satisfied to get him off
their hands, regardless as to what humanitarian theories might be tested
upon him. As the Arcadian Club recognized no such thing as caste, he was
always admitted to our meetings, and understood just enough of our
conversation to excite a silly ambition in his slow mind....

"Our board, that evening, was really tempting. The absence of meat was
compensated to us by the crisp and racy onions, and I craved only a
little salt, which had been interdicted, as a most pernicious substance.
I sat at one corner of the table, beside Perkins Brown, who took an
opportunity, while the others were engaged in conversation, to jog my
elbow gently. As I turned towards him, he said nothing, but dropped his
eyes significantly. The little rascal had the lid of a blacking-box,
filled with salt, upon his knee, and was privately seasoning his onions
and radishes. I blushed at the thought of my hypocrisy, but the onions
were so much better that I couldn't help dipping into the lid with him.

"'Oh,' said Eunice, 'we must send for some oil and vinegar! This lettuce
is very nice.'

"'Oil and vinegar?' exclaimed Abel.

"'Why, yes,' said she, innocently: 'they are both vegetable substances.'