“You hear, gentlemen,” said Mr Skrimmage.
“Hear!—yes, but we don’t taste. I should like to see it sarved out,” continued the master’s-mate.
“Sir,” replied Mr Skrimmage, “I must take the liberty to observe to you, that that is a responsibility never intrusted to the steward. The established allowance is always portioned out by Mrs Skrimmage herself.”
“Damn Mrs Skrimmage,” said a voice from the other end of the table.
“What!” cried the indignant husband; “what did I hear? Who was that?”
“’Twas this young gentleman, Mr Caterer,” said a malicious lad, pointing to one opposite.
“Me, sir!” replied the youngster, recollecting the game they had just been playing; “you lie, sir.”
“Who then, sir?”
“Black Cap—Black Cap,” pointing to another.
“I damn Mrs Skrimmage! You lie, sir.”