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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Complete Prose Works Specimen Days and Collect, November Boughs and Goodbye My Fancy"

The windows were up, and, the house standing close to the
road, Charles thought it no harm to take a look and see what was going
on within. Half a dozen footsteps brought him to the low casement, on
which he lean'd his elbow, and where he had a full view of the room
and its occupants. In one corner was an old man, known in the village
as Black Dave--he it was whose musical performances had a moment
before drawn Charles's attention to the tavern; and he it was who now
exerted himself in a violent manner to give, with divers flourishes
and extra twangs, a tune very popular among that thick-lipp'd race
whose fondness for melody is so well known. In the middle of the room
were five or six sailors, some of them quite drunk, and others in the
earlier stages of that process, while on benches around were more
sailors, and here and there a person dress'd in landsman's attire. The
men in the middle of the room were dancing; that is, they were going
through certain contortions and shufflings, varied occasionally by
exceeding hearty stamps upon the sanded floor. In short the whole
party were engaged in a drunken frolic, which was in no respect
different from a thousand other drunken frolics, except, perhaps,
that there was less than the ordinary amount of anger and quarreling.
Indeed everyone seem' d in remarkably good humor.
But what excited the boy's attention more than any other object was
an individual, seated on one of the benches opposite, who, though
evidently enjoying the spree as much as if he were an old hand at
such business, seem' d in every other particular to be far out of his
element.


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