“So I understood. But from the amount of advice I receive as to managing it, I think, maybe, it isn’t. Well, I’ve heard you—now listen to me. ‘The one who eats the most bread-and-butter can have the most cake’—or chicken. They look terrible little, don’t they, now they’re cooked? And I warn you, I never saw anybody look so hungry in all my life—no, not even you three boys!—as that poor, unhappy Colonel of T, in there with Aunt Betty. Yes, Mrs. Bruce, we’re ready for breakfast at last. But mind what I say—all we youngsters like oatmeal! We must like it this time for politeness sake. Fourteen eaters and twelve halves of broiled chicken—Problem, who goes without?”
But nobody really did that. Mrs. Bruce was mistress of the art of carving and managed that each should have at least a small portion of the delicacies provided, though she had to tax her ingenuity to accomplish this.
At the head of her table Mrs. Calvert motioned Chloe to serve her guest again and again; and each time that Ephraim jealously snatched a dainty portion for her own plate she as promptly and quietly restored it to the platter.
Also, the “Skipper” at his own board played such a lively knife and fork that dishes were emptied almost before filled and Gerald viciously remarked:
“Aren’t as fond of ship’s biscuit as you were, are you, Cap’n Jack?”
The Captain helped himself afresh and answered with good nature:
“Oh! yes. Jes’ as fond. But I likes a change. Yes, I c’n make out to relish ’most anything. I ain’t a mite partic’lar.”
This was too much for the lads and a laugh arose; but the old man merely peered over his specs at them and mildly asked:
“What you-all laughin’ at? Tell me an’ lemme laugh, too. Laughin’ does old folks good. Eh, Cunnel? Don’t you think so?” he asked, wheeling around to address the guest of honor.