Otard
And here is another little incident.
One afternoon while all by myself curiously penetrating into the hold,
I most unexpectedly obtained proof, that the ill-fated captain of the
Parki had been a man of sound judgment and most excellent taste. In
brief, I lighted upon an aromatic cask of prime old Otard.
Now, I mean not to speak lightly of any thing immediately connected
with the unfortunate captain. Nor, on the other hand, would I resemble
the inconsolable mourner, who among other tokens of affliction, bound
in funereal crape his deceased friend’s copy of Joe Miller. Is there
not a fitness in things?
But let that pass. I found the Otard, and drank there-of; finding it,
moreover, most pleasant to the palate, and right cheering to the soul.
My next impulse was to share my prize with my shipmates. But here a
judicious reflection obtruded. From the sea-monarchs, his ancestors, my
Viking had inherited one of their cardinal virtues, a detestation and
abhorrence of all vinous and spirituous beverages; insomuch, that he
never could see any, but he instantly quaffed it out of sight. To be
short, like Alexander the Great and other royalties, Jarl was prone to
overmuch bibing. And though at sea more sober than a Fifth Monarchy
Elder, it was only because he was then removed from temptation. But
having thus divulged my Viking’s weak; side, I earnestly entreat, that
it may not disparage him in any charitable man’s estimation. Only
think, how many more there are like him to say nothing further of
Alexander the Great—especially among his own class; and consider, I
beseech, that the most capacious-souled fellows, for that very reason,
are the most apt to be too liberal in their libations; since, being so
large-hearted, they hold so much more good cheer than others.
For Samoa, from his utter silence hitherto as to aught inebriating on
board, I concluded, that, along with his other secrets, the departed
captain had very wisely kept his Otard to himself.
Nor did I doubt, but that the Upoluan, like all Polynesians, much loved
getting high of head; and in that state, would be more intractable than
a Black Forest boar. And concerning Annatoo, I shuddered to think, how
that Otard might inflame her into a Fury more fierce than the foremost
of those that pursued Orestes.
In good time, then, bethinking me of the peril of publishing my
discovery;—bethinking me of the quiet, lazy, ever-present perils of the
voyage, of all circumstances, the very worst under which to introduce
an intoxicating beverage to my companions, I resolved to withhold it
from them altogether.
So impressed was I with all this, that for a moment, I was almost
tempted to roll over the cask on its bilge, remove the stopper, and
suffer its contents to mix with the foul water at the bottom of the
hold.
But no, no: What: dilute the brine with the double distilled soul of
the precious grape? Haft himself would have haunted me!
Then again, it might come into play medicinally; and Paracelsus himself
stands sponsor for every cup drunk for the good of the abdomen. So at
last, I determined to let it remain where it was: visiting it
occasionally, by myself, for inspection.
But by way of advice to all ship-masters, let me say, that if your
Otard magazine be exposed to view—then, in the evil hour of wreck,
stave in your spirit-casks, ere rigging the life-boat.