CHAPTER XXXIII.
Otard And here is another little incident.
One afternoon while all by myself curiously penetrating into the hold, I most unexpectedly obtained proof, that the ill-fated captain of the Parki had been a man of sound judgment and most excellent taste.

In brief, I lighted upon an aromatic cask of prime old Otard.
Now, I mean not to speak lightly of any thing immediately connected with the unfortunate captain.

Nor, on the other hand, would I resemble the inconsolable mourner, who among other tokens of affliction, bound in funereal crape his deceased friend's copy of Joe Miller.

Is there not a fitness in things?
But let that pass.

I found the Otard, and drank there-of; finding it, moreover, most pleasant to the palate, and right cheering to the soul.