She was not frightened, however, only alarmed; and, the next moment, she was inspecting with as much curiosity as the others the motley collection that had been brought up from the sea.
“Not a bad lot, eh?” observed the Captain critically, poking the fish about with the end of his stick, which he took off the seat for the purpose. “I see we’ve got some good soles, besides that little chap that took a fancy to you, missy.”
“I didn’t mind it,” said Miss Nell courageously, now that she knew that there was nothing much to be frightened of. “It was cold and wet, poor thing; but I knew it would not hurt me.”
“Ah, but you screamed though!” retorted the sailor waggishly, as he turned to her father. “Say, Strong, do you know what to do with a sole, eh?”
“Why, eat it, I suppose,” replied the other laughing. “I don’t think you can better that, eh?”
“Yes, that’s all right, no doubt,” said the Captain, a little bit grumpy at being caught up in that way. “I mean how to cook it properly?”
“Boil it,” suggested the barrister, at a loss how to answer the question satisfactorily. “I should think that the simplest plan.”
“Boil it?” repeated the Captain in a voice of horror; “boil your grandmother!”
“Well, you must really excuse me,” said the barrister, as well as he could speak from laughing; while Bob and Nell went into fits at the idea of their poor old “Gran” being cooked in so summary a fashion. “I’m good at a knife and fork, but really I don’t know anything of cooking.”
“I see you don’t,” replied the old sailor triumphantly, his good-humour restored at being able to put the other “up to a wrinkle,” as he said; “but I’ll tell you. The best way, Strong, to do a sole is to grill him as quickly as you can over a clear fire. About five minutes is enough for the transaction; and then, with a squeeze of lemon and a dash of cayenne, you’ve got a dish fit for a king! No bread-crumbs or butter or any of that French fiddlery, mind, or you’ll spoil him!”