'Admiral Lord Exmouth tasted and praised it, sir, on board Captain Chuff's ship, the "Nebuchadnezzar," 74, at Algiers; and he had three dozen with turn in the "Pitchfork" frigate, a part of which was served out to the men before he went into his immortal action with the "Furibonde," Captain Choufleur, in the Gulf of Panama.' All this, though the old dowager told us the story every day when the wine was produced, never served to get rid of any quantity of it--and the green ginger, though it had fired British tars for combat and victory, was not to the taste of us peaceful and degenerate gents of modern times.
I see Sackville now, as on the occasion when, presented by Wagley, I paid my first visit to him.

It was in July--a Sunday afternoon--Sackville Maine was coming from church, with his wife on one arm, and his mother-ill-law (in red tabinet, as usual,) on the other.
A half-grown, or hobbadehoyish footman, so to speak, walked after them, carrying their shining golden prayer-books--the ladies had splendid parasols with tags and fringes.

Mrs.Chuff's great gold watch, fastened to her stomach, gleamed there like a ball of fire.

Nelson Collingwood was in the distance, shying stones at an old horse on Kennington Common.
'Twas on that verdant spot we met--nor can I ever forget the majestic courtesy of Mrs.Chuff, as she remembered having had the pleasure of seeing me at Mrs.Perkins's--nor the glance of scorn which she threw at an unfortunate gentleman who was preaching an exceedingly desultory discourse to a sceptical audience of omnibus-cads and nurse-maids, on a tub, as we passed by.

'I cannot help it, sir,' says she; 'I am the widow of an officer of Britain's Navy: I was taught to honour my Church and my King: and I cannot bear a Radical or a Dissenter.' With these fine principles I found Sackville Maine impressed.