Monsieur Jocko was by no means the dullest in the party; he cracked his nuts with as much grace as we did our jests, and grinned and chatted as facetiously as the best of us.

After coffee we were all so pleased with one another, that we resolved not to separate, and accordingly we adjourned to my rooms, Jocko and all, to find new revelries and grow brilliant over Curacoa punch.
We entered my salon with a roar, and set Bedos to work at the punch forthwith.

Bedos, that Ganymede of a valet, had himself but just arrived, and was unlocking the door as we entered.

We soon blew up a glorious fire, and our spirits brightened in proportion.

Monsieur Jocko sate on Vincent's knee--Ne monstrum, as he classically termed it.