"It ees delightful.

I cannot make the speech, mais, mademoiselle, monsieur--I drink your health." He drained his glass, then flung it, with a magnificent gesture, over his shoulder.

"It ees so we drink to royalty," he said.
Such a noble example naturally had its effect; there followed a perfect shower of glasses.

Indeed, I think every one at table indulged in this pretty piece of extravagance except the third son of an English baronet, who was too busy explaining how it was done at home: "Purely a British custom, you understand--the wardroom of a man-of-war, d'ye see .-- They were officers of a Scotch regiment, and they drank it standing on their chairs, with one foot on the table.
And, by gad, I didn't care for it!"-- No doubt I should have learned more concerning this purely British custom if the Pierpont Morgan of Pennsylvania hadn't called on Blakely for a speech, just then.

Poor Blakely! He didn't know at all how to make a speech.