Commodore Junk — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

94 COMMODORE JUNK. He had been to the principal inn to dine with some officers whose vessels had just touched there from Falmouth, and Humphrey, who had been present, had felt some doubt about letting him go home alone. “'You’ve had too much punch, Jem,” he said. ‘Sleep here to-night, and don’t let your young wife see you in that state.” ‘You're a fool,” was the surly reply. “You can get a good bed here, and ride home in the morning,” said Humphrey, quietly. ‘ You had better stay.” ‘¢ Mind your own business, upstart,” cried the captain ; and ordering his horse, he mounted and set off with a lurch, first on one side, and then on the other, each threatening to send him out of the saddle. “ He'll be all right, Armstrong,” said a jovial-looking officer, laughing, ‘‘Come and have another glass. By the time he is at the top of the long hill he will be sober as a judge.” ‘Perhaps so,” said Humphrey aloud. Then to himself, “T don’t half like it, though. The road’s bad, and I shouldn’t care for anything to happen to him, even if it is to make me heir to the estate. I wish I had not let him go.” He returned to the room where the officers had commenced a fresh bowl of punch, for they had no longer journey before them than upstairs to their rooms, and there were plenty of servants to see them safely into bed, as was the custom in dealing with the topers of that day. } “T’vye done wrong,” said Humphrey Armstrong, after partaking of one glass of punch and smoking a single pipe of tobacco from a tiny bowl of Dutch ware. ‘He was not fit to go home alone.” He said this to himself as an officer was trolling forth an anacreontic song. ‘‘ Ti’s a long walk, but I shall not feel comfortable unless J Gomichbooksnceo