The things we do!

"Oh, I've got such a headache!"
"Serve you right, sir. Many a young fellow has had to go on parade in the
morning, with a headache earned overnight. Drink this water. Now, jump
up. Now, dash the water well over your head. There you come! Make your
toilette quickly; and let us be off, and find cousin Barnes before he has
left home."
Clive obeyed the paternal orders; dressed himself quickly; and
descending, found his father smoking his morning cigar in the apartment
where they had dined the night before, and where the tables still were
covered with the relics of yesterday's feast--the emptied bottles, the
blank lamps, the scattered ashes and fruits, the wretched heel-taps that
have been lying exposed all night to the air. Who does not know the
aspect of an expired feast?
"The field of action strewed with the dead, my boy," says Clive's father.
"See, here's the glass on the floor yet, and a great stain of claret on
the carpet."
"Oh, father!" says Clive, hanging his head down, "I know I shouldn't have
done it.


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