Whats come of Glynn? inquired Captain Dunning, as he accepted a large cup of smoking tea with one hand, and with the other handed a plate of buttered toast to Dr Hopley, who sat next him.
I really cannot imagine, replied Miss Martha.
No, cannot imagine, whispered Miss Jane.
He promised to come, and to be punctual, continued Miss Martha (Punctual, whispered Miss J), but something seems to have detained him. Perhaps
Here Miss Martha was brought to an abrupt pause by observing that Mr Rokens was about to commence to eat his egg with a teaspoon.
Allow me, Mr Rokens, she said, handing that individual an ivory eggspoon.
Oh, cernly, maam. By all means, replied Rokens, taking the spoon and handing it to Miss Jane, under the impression that it was intended for her.
I beg pardon, it is for yourself, Mr Rokens, said Martha and Jane together.
Thankee, maam, replied Rokens, growing red, as he began to perceive he was a little off his course somehow. Ive no occasion for two, an this one suits me oncommon.
Ah! you prefer big spoons to little ones, my man, dont you? said Captain Dunning, coming to the rescue. Let him alone, Martha, hes used to take care of himself. Doctor, can you tell me now, which is the easiest of digestiona hard egg or a soft one?
Thus appealed to, Dr Hopley paused a moment and frowned at the teapot, as though he were about to tax his brain to the utmost in the solution of an abstruse question in medical science.
Well now, he replied, stirring his tea gently, and speaking with much deliberation, that depends very much upon circumstances. Some digestions can manage a hard egg best, others find a soft one more tractable. And then the state of the stomach at the time of eating has to be taken into account. I should say now, that my little friend Ailie, here, to judge from the rosy colour of her cheeks, could manage hard or soft eggs equally well; couldnt you, eh?
Ailie laughed, as she replied, Im sure I dont know, Doctor Hopley; but I like soft ones best.
To this, Captain Dunning said, Of course you do, my sensible little pet; although it would be difficult to show wherein lay the sensibility of the preference, and then addedTheres Rokens, now; wouldnt you, doctorjudging from his rosy, not to say purple cheeksconclude that he wasnt able to manage even two eggs of any kind?
Wot, me! exclaimed Mr Rokens, looking up in surprise, as indeed he well might, having just concluded his fourth, and being about to commence his fifth egg, to the no small anxiety of Martha and Jane, into whose limited and innocent minds the possibility of such a feat had never entered. Wot, me! Why, capting, if they was biled as hard as the head of a marline-spike
The expanding grin on the captains face, and a sudden laugh from the mate, apprised the bold harpooner at this point of his reply that the captain was jesting, so he felt a little confused, and sought relief by devoting himself assiduously to egg Number 5.
It fared ill with Tim Rokens that evening that he had rashly entered into ladies society, for he was a nervous man in refined company, though cool and firm as a grounded iceberg when in the society of his messmates, or when towing with the speed of a steamboat in the wake of a sperm-whale.
Egg Number 5 proved to be a bad one. Worse than that, egg Number 5 happened to belong to that peculiar class of bad eggs which go off with a little crack when hit with a spoon, and sputter their unsavoury contents around them. Thus it happened, that when Mr Rokens, feeling confused, and seeking relief in attention to the business then in hand, hit egg Number 5 a smart blow on the top, a large portion of its contents spurted over the fair white tablecloth, a small portion fell on Mr Rokens vest, and a minute yellow globule thereof alighted on the fair Marthas hand, eliciting from that lady a scream, and as a matter of course, an echo from Jane in the shape of a screamlet.
Mr Rokens flushed a deep Indian-red, and his nose assumed a warm blue colour instantly.
Oh! maam, I ax yer parding.
Pray dont mention ita mere accident. Im so sorry you have got a bad Oh!
The little scream with which Miss Martha interrupted her remark was caused by Mr Rokens (who had just observed the little yellow globule above referred to) seizing her hand, and wiping away the speck with the identical handkerchief that had floored the cat and swept away the pat of butter. Immediately thereafter, feeling heated, he wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and unwittingly transferred the spot thereto in the form of a yellow streak, whereat Ailie and the first mate burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Even Miss Martha smiled, although she rather objected to jesting, as being a dangerous amusement, and never laughed at the weaknesses or misfortunes of others, however ludicrous they might be, when she could help it.
How can you, brother? she said, reproachfully, shaking her head at the captain, who was winking at the doctor with one eye in a most obstreperous manner. Do try another egg, Mr Rokens; the others, I am sure, are fresh. I cannot imagine how a bad one came to be amongst them.
Ah, try another, my lad, echoed the captain. Pass em up this way, Mr Millons.
By no manner o means; Ill eat this un! replied the harpooner, commencing to eat the bad egg with apparent relish. I like em this waybetter than nothin, anyhow. Bless ye, marm, yeve no notion wot sort o things Ive lived on aboard ship
Rokens came to an abrupt pause in consequence of the servant-girl, at a sign from her mistresses (for she always received duplicate orders), seizing his plate and carrying it off bodily. It was immediately replaced by a clean one and a fresh egg. While Rokens somewhat nervously tapped the head of Number 6, Miss Martha, in order to divert attention from him, asked Mr Millons if sea-fare was always salt junk and hard biscuit?
Oh, no, madam, answered the first mate. Weve sometimes salt pork, and vegetables now and agin; and pea-soup, and plum-duff
Plum-duff, Ailie, interrupted the captain, in order to explain, is just a puddin with few plums and fewer spices in it. Something like a white-painted cannon-shot, with brown spots on it here and there.
Is it good? inquired Ailie.
Oh, aint it! remarked Mr Rokens, who had just concluded Number 6, and felt his self-possession somewhat restored. Yes, miss, it is; but it aint equal to whales-brain fritters, it aint; thems first-chop.
Have whales got brains? inquired Miss Martha, in surprise.
Brains! echoed Miss Jane, in amazement.
Yes, madam, they ave, answered the first mate, who had hitherto maintained silence, but having finished tea was now ready for any amount of talk; and whats more remarkable still, theyve got several barrels of oil in their skulls besides.
Dear me! exclaimed the sisters.
Yes, ladies, capital oil it is, too; fetches a igher price hin the markit than the other sort.
By the bye, Millons, didnt you once fall into a whales skull, and get nearly drowned in oil? inquired the doctor.
I did, answered the first mate, with the air of a man who regarded such an event as a mere trifle, that, upon consideration, might almost be considered as rather a pleasant incident than otherwise in ones history.
Nearly drowned in oil! exclaimed the sisters, while Ailie opened her eyes in amazement, and Mr Rokens became alarmingly purple in the face with suppressed chuckling.