Three silver spoons and silver sugar-tongs
had been put on the table. Ordinarily the spoons were pewter.
Zachariah, fond of sugar, was in the habit of taking it with his
fingers--a practice to which Mrs. Zachariah strongly objected, and
with some reason. It was dirty, and as his hands were none of the
whitest, the neighbouring lumps became soiled, and acquired a flavour
which did not add to their sweetness. She had told him of it a score
of times; but he did not amend, and seemed to think her particularity
rather a vice than a virtue. So it is that, as love gilds all
defects, lack of love sees nothing but defect in what is truly
estimable. Notwithstanding the sugar-tongs, Zachariah--excusable,
perhaps, this time, considering the warmth of the speech he was
making against the late war--pushed them aside, and helped himself
after the usual fashion. A cloud came over Mrs. Zachariah's face;
she compressed her lips in downright anger, pushed the tongs towards
him with a rattle, and trod on his foot at the same time. His
oration came to an end; he looked round, became confused, and was
suddenly silent; but the Major gallantly came to the rescue by
jumping up to prevent Mrs.
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