Damer. As he did so, Fanny's donkey became
equally impetuous, and the two cantered on in advance of the whole
party. It was quite in vain that Mr. Damer, at the top of his voice,
shouted out something about "three dozen corruptible demagogues." Mr.
Ingram found it quite impossible to restrain his donkey so as to listen
to the sarcasm.
"I do believe papa would talk politics," said Fanny, "if he were at the
top of Mont Blanc, or under the Falls of Niagara. I do hate politics,
Mr. Ingram."
"I am sorry for that, very," said Mr. Ingram, almost sadly.
"Sorry, why? You don't want me to talk politics, do you?"
"In America we are all politicians, more or less; and, therefore, I
suppose you will hate us all."
"Well, I rather think I should," said Fanny; "you would be such bores."
But there was something in her eye, as she spoke, which atoned for the
harshness of her words.
"A very nice young man is Mr. Ingram; don't you think so?" said Miss
Dawkins to Mrs. Damer. Mrs. Damer was going along upon her donkey, not
altogether comfortably. She much wished to have her lord and
legitimate protector by her side, but he had left her to the care of a
dragoman whose English was not intelligible to her, and she was rather
cross.
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