Grim Silas Foster, all this while, had been busy at the supper-table, pouring out his own tea and gulping it down with No more sense of its exquisiteness than if it were a decoction of catnip; helping himself to pieces of dipt toast on the flat of his knife blade, and dropping half of it on the table-cloth; using the same serviceable implement to cut slice after slice of ham; perpetrating terrible eNormities with the butter-plate; and in all other respects behaving less like a civilized
No