"The gong—what's that? Ain't you got no bells?"
"The gong is used, sir, instead of bells," says the servant.
"Ah, well, clear out—but say, I want a fire in here."
"Yes, sir; I'll send up a fireman."
"A fireman? What do I want with firemen? Bring in some wood, and, stranger—start up—a hello! thunder and saw mills, what's all that racket about—house a-fire?"
"No, sir!" says the grinning servant—"the gong—supper's on the table!"
"Ah, very well; go ahead; where's the room?"
Conducted to the dining-room, Capt. Fussy's eyes stretch at the wholesale display of table-cloths, arm-chairs, "crockery" and cutlery, mirrors and white-aproned waiters. A seat is offered him, he dumps himself down, amazed but determined to look and act like one used to these affairs, from the hour of his birth!
"I ordered hot steak, poached eggs—hain't you got 'em?"
"Certainly, sir!" says the waiter, and the steak and eggs are at hand.