We men,
therefore, walked out to the garden, which we found in a promising
condition. The usual vegetables had been planted and were
growing finely, for the season was yet scarcely warm enough
for the weeds to make much headway. Radishes, young onions, and
lettuce formed our contribution to the table. The Shelldrakes, I
should explain, had not yet advanced to the antediluvian point, in
diet: nor, indeed, had either Eunice or myself. We acknowledged
the fascination of tea, we saw a very mitigated evil in milk and
butter, and we were conscious of stifled longings after the
abomination of meat. Only Mallory, Hollins, and Miss Ringtop had
reached that loftiest round on the ladder of progress where the
material nature loosens the last fetter of the spiritual. They
looked down upon us, and we meekly admitted their right to do so.
"Our board, that evening, was really tempting. The absence of meat
was compensated to us by the crisp and racy onions, and I craved
only a little salt, which had been interdicted, as a most
pernicious substance.
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