Guy Hammersley; or, Clearing his Name — page 206: what you’re looking at

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

GUY HAMMERSLEY. LO7 CHAPTER XXX, A MATTER OF DATES, Tue table was set out most sumptuously, so far as the service wasconcerned. A table cloth ofelaborate pattern, with embroidered edges, and napkins to match; a beautiful épergne in the center, flanked on either side by cut glass fruit dishes of unique design. A silver butter dish was at each place, while an im- posing coffee urn, most chastely wrought, stood at one end. There was an oyster plate at each cover, but instead of oysters or clams, these contained dates. In fact, dates were the only article of food visible. Dates were piled high in each of the fruit dishes, overflowed from the épergne, and reposed, one on each of the butter plates. ‘‘ Pray beseated,” said the major, waving his hand to a place on his right for Mrs. Westmore, one on his left for Amy, while he motioned to Guy to take the other end of the table. ‘‘I trust you are all fond of dates. They are a passion with me, you know. There are my sons, John and Mark, both named for their uncles, and here, some five years since, I dis- covered that John was born on St. John’s Day, and Gomicboo “S (E(@) m