With the rest came up the chaplain, who had recovered by this
time his breath, and, to a certain extent, his equanimity. While the
others stood silent, he saw one of those openings for improving the
occasion professionally of which he was ever so ready to avail himself.
So, casting his hand abroad theatrically, he declaimed,
How glorious are thy works, Parent of Good!
The words came oozing out in the oiliest of his unctuous tones; and the
elocutionist's expansive glance fell first on the landscape
patronizingly, then on the by-standers encouragingly. It was as though
he said, "You may fall to, and admire now. I have asked a blessing."
Nothing more occurred worthy of note till they reached their destination
in safety.
Of course, "there never was such a place for a picnic;" but, as that has
been said of about three hundred different spots in every civilized
country of Europe, it is certainly not worth while describing this
particular one. The luncheon went on very much as such things always do
when the arrangements are perfect, the commissariat unexceptionable, and
the guests hungry and happy.
Mr. Fullarton, however, applied himself so assiduously to Champagne-cup
that his sober-minded helpmate (the only person who took much notice of
his proceedings) was filled with an uncomfortable wonder.
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