and we smile decorously on the infringements of casual comers.

Once a steamer anchored boldly in the bay--a pert steamer with a saucy,
off-duty air. Certain circumstances forewarned us of a "formal call." So
that the visit should not partake of an actual surprise a boat containing
ladies and gentlemen was rowed ostentatiously across to land awkwardly at
such a point as would herald the fact and afford a precious interim in
which we were plainly invited to embellish ourselves--to assume a
receptive style of countenance and clothes and company manners. Careless
of dignity, the charitable prelude was lost upon us. Our self-conscious
and considerate visitors dumbly expressed amazement at their informal
reception and our unfestive attire. Yet my garments were neat,
sufficient, and defiantly unsoiled. Had I donned a full, white suit, with
neat tie and Panama hat, and stood even barefooted on the beach,
conspicuous, revealed as a "gentleman" even from the decks of the defiant
steamer, the boat-load would have come straight to the landing smiling,
and chatting, to drop "their ceremonious manna in the way of starved
people." They would have been elated had I assumed robes of reverence--a
uniform indicative of obligation--a worthy response to their patronage.
With compliments expressed in terms of functionary clothes they had hoped
to soothe their vanity. White cotton and a tinted tie would have been
smilingly honoured; and the mere man was not flattered to perceive that
he was less in esteem than the drapery common to the species. I never will
be content to be a supernumerary to my clothes.

Our visitors reflected not on their intrusion. My precious privacy was
gratuitously violated, and in such circumstances that my holiday humour
was put under restraint for the time being. Though I do profess love for
human nature, for some phases I have but scant respect.