Approaching Cowes by the rural by-road adjoining Northwood Park, the
residence of George Ward, Esq. the ocean scenery is sublimely beautiful.
In the distance is seen the opposite shores, with Calshot Castle, backed
by the New Forest, and one side of it, divided by Southampton Water, and
the woods of Netley Abbey. Here we descried the contending yachts,
ploughing their way in the direction of the Needles; but as our
acquaintance with the sailing regulations of the Royal Yacht Club will not
admit of our awarding the precedence to one or the other, we will descend
from the elevation of Northwood, amidst the din of music from the Club
House, and the hum of promenaders on the beach, and ensconce ourselves in
the snug parlour of "mine host" Paddy White, whom we used to denominate
the Falstaff of the island. Though from the land of shillelaghs and
whiskey, Paddy is entirely devoid of that gunpowder temperament which
characterizes his country; and his genuine humour, ample obesity, and
originality of delivery, entitle him to honourable identification with
"Sir John." Now, by the soul of Momus! who ever beheld a woe-begone face
at Paddy White's? Even our own, remarkable for "loathed melancholy," has
changed its moody contour into the lineaments of mirth, while listening to
him.
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