In our cold country the progress is lamentably slow.

Fogs, east winds, sleet, storms, and cutting March weather nip many a budding flirtation; whereas warm, sunny days and bright moonlight nights, with genial air and balmy zephyrs, open the heart like the cup of a camelia, and let us drink in the soft dew of--" "Devilish poetical, that," said Power, evolving a long blue line of smoke from the corner of his mouth.
"Isn't it, though ?" said the major, smiling graciously.

"'Pon my life, I thought so myself.

Where was I ?" "Out of my latitude altogether," said the poor skipper, who often found it hard to follow the thread of a story.
"Yes, I remember.

I was remarking that sangaree and calipash, mangoes and guava jelly, dispose the heart to love, and so they do.