The pièce de résistance at dinner was a ryper curry, executed in the Skipper’s best manner, and worthy of a place amongst the old masters, though providentially none of them were here to help us with it. John also contributed his share to the menu, a roley-poley pudding, which, when it came to table, looked a trifle doughy at the ends, as even the best of such puddings generally do.
John turned to Esau, and in his sweetest manner said, ‘Do you like end, old fellow?’
He, a little astonished at this unwonted politeness, replied with equal courtesy, ‘No, thank you, I don’t think I care about end.’
‘Ah,’ said John, ‘well, the Skipper and I do;’ and thereupon cut the pudding into two portions, and was giving one to the Skipper and the other to himself, when the proceedings were interrupted by a brief but energetic scene of riot and bloodshed, which was terminated by a treaty of peace on the basis of the status quo as regards the pudding, and subsequent re-division of the same into three parts by a mixed commission.
Among the fish brought in to-day was one enormously long brute which ought to have weighed five pounds, but was only three pounds. The Skipper captured this prize at the outlet of the lake, which seems to be a favourite place for sick and dying fish like this.
Matters of food are generally referred to Esau, because he cares more about eating than the other two, as they say, or because he has got more sense than they have, as he says. The two explanations are probably identical.
When this fish was brought to him for judgment, he promptly said, ‘Give it to the men.’ The Skipper replied, ‘My dear chap, whenever we collect any kind of food that isn’t quite nice, you always “give it to the men.”’
Esau became grave at once, and answered ‘You forget we are not in England. At home, truly, we give the best of everything to our servants, and are thankful for the worst ourselves; but Norway is a country where the canker of civilisation has not yet crept in to taint everything it passes over, and where the noisome worm of increasing independence does not blossom in the heart of every tree. Our men would be proud and happy to chew this aged fish, and we have had instances to convince us that they would be prouder and happier if the aged fish were nearly putrid.’