Maunder, who was occupied with the stern responsibility of catering for the whim of the rich, had a way of recapitulating the orders from the beginning, adding up aloud as the count went on, thus:
Cadet: A strawberry ice, please, Maunder.
Maunder: One strawberry ice tuppence.
Cadet: Oh, and a doughnut, while you’re about it.
Maunder: One strawberry ice one doughnut thruppence.
Cadet: That’s just to go on with. Then in a bag I want a stick of cream chocolate——
Maunder: One strawberry ice one doughnut one stick cream chocolate fourpence.
Cadet: (breathlessly) And a bottle of barley sugar and a “My Queen” and four Garry biscuits and half a pound of cherries and a bottle of lemonade and one of ginger beer and—that’s all, I think.
Maunder: (coming in a little behind, chanting, the general effect being that of a duet in canon). One strawberry ice one doughnut one stick cream chocolate one bottle barley sugar one “My Queen,” etc., etc., etc.... And a bag one an thruppence ’a’-penny.... Thank you, sir. Next, please.
On occasion demigods walked among the children of men. The visits of the Channel Fleet to Torbay usually brought over one or two of a lately departed term, now midshipmen by the grace of God and magnificent beyond conception.