Upon the following market day two fine fat fowls were displayed at Mrs. Lee's stall. She sat behind them on her upturned barrel, and gave Stark an indifferent "good morning" as he strolled past with the Commodore and James Knapps.
"Here's a nice brace of chicks, your honour," said Lovey.
But Stark laughed and shook his head.
"No luxuries to-day, ma'am; we're not made of money, you know. They would look well upon Commandant Cottrell's table."
"I serve him, too," she answered. "But he likes his poultry stuffed wi' marjoram an' wild thyme."
"And these?"
"They be stuffed different."
"Well, we won't quarrel as to that. Hungry men don't criticise their sauces. What's the price?"
"You shall have 'em for half-a-crown."
"Lordy! Preserve us agin you greedy women!" cried Knapps. "I reckon you'd make soup out o' stones an' sell it for ten cents a pint if you dared."