The Honourable Elijah Pogram looked at Martin as if he thought 'You
don't mean that, I know!' and he was soon confirmed in this opinion.
Sitting opposite to them was a gentleman in a high state of tobacco, who
wore quite a little beard, composed of the overflowing of that weed, as
they had dried about his mouth and chin; so common an ornament that it
would scarcely have attracted Martin's observation, but that this good
citizen, burning to assert his equality against all comers, sucked his
knife for some moments, and made a cut with it at the butter, just as
Martin was in the act of taking some. There was a juiciness about the
deed that might have sickened a scavenger.
When Elijah Pogram (to whom this was an every-day incident) saw that
Martin put the plate away, and took no butter, he was quite delighted,
and said,
'Well! The morbid hatred of you British to the Institutions of our
country is as-TONishing!'
'Upon my life!' cried Martin, in his turn. 'This is the most wonderful
community that ever existed. A man deliberately makes a hog of himself,
and THAT'S an Institution!'
'We have no time to ac-quire forms, sir,' said Elijah Pogram.
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