“We have but a poor dinner to-day,” said Mrs Trotter, “for the bum-boat woman disappointed me. I particularly requested her to bring me off a leg of lamb, but she says that there was none in the market. It is rather early for it, that’s true, but Trotter is very nice in his eating. Now let us sit down to dinner.”
I felt very sick, indeed, and could eat nothing. Our dinner consisted of the pieces of beef and pork, the potatoes, and a baked pudding in a tin dish. Mr Trotter went up to serve the spirits out to the ship’s company, and returned with a bottle of rum.
“Have you got Mr Simple’s allowance, my love?” inquired Mrs Trotter.
“Yes, he is victualled to-day, as he came on board before twelve o’clock. Do you drink spirits, Mr Simple?”
“No, I thank you,” replied I, for I remembered the captain’s injunction.
“Taking, as I do, such an interest in your welfare, I must earnestly recommend you to abstain from them,” said Mr Trotter. “It is a very bad habit, and once acquired, not easy to be left off. I am obliged to drink them that I may not check the perspiration after working in the hold: I have, nevertheless, a natural abhorrence of them; but my champagne and claret days are gone by, and I must submit to circumstances.”
“My poor Trotter!” said the lady.
“Well,” continued he, “it’s a poor heart that never rejoiceth.” He then poured out half a tumbler of rum, and filled the glass up with water.
“My love, will you taste it?”
“Now, Trotter, you know that I never touch it, except when the water is so bad that I must have the taste taken away. How is the water to-day?”