The breakfast did not help remove the unpleasant impressions already made upon her mind. The cloth that covered the coarse planks of the table was unmistakably a well-worn sheet. Tin cups and platters made humble substitution for china, and were appropriately accompanied by cast-iron knives and two tined forks.
Two Hospital Stewards—denoted by the green bands, embroidered with CADUCEI, around their arms—and the same number of Wardmasters, formed the mess which sat down with Dr. Denslow and Rachel, on benches around the table.
What bouyant cheerfulness could do to raise Rachel's spirits and give an appetizing flavor to the coarse viands, Dr. Denslow did.
“I apprehend,” said he, “that you will suspect that in obtaining this steak the indefatigable cook made a mistake, and sliced a piece from a side of sole leather hanging near. This was not the case. It was selected with a deep physiological design. Meat of this character consists almost wholly of fibrine, the least heat-producing constituent of flesh. By excluding all fats and other tender portions, and confining ourselves to fibrine, we are the better able to stand this torrid weather.”
One of the Hospital Stewards groaned deeply.
“What is the matter, 'Squills'?” said the Doctor, kindly.
“I was thinking of the monstrous fibber-in here,” said “Squills,” lugubriously.
“'Squills,' I don't know how I can properly punish the disrespect shown our young lady guest and your superior officer, by that vile pun and the viler implication contained in it.”
“This sugar,” continued the Doctor, lifting some out of an old tomato can with a large iron spoon, and tendering it to Rachel for her coffee, “has a rich golden color, which is totally absent from the paler varieties to which you are accustomed. Its deeper hue comes from having caught more of the Cuban yellow sun's rays.”
“Yes,” interjected “Squills,” “all the Cuban's yellow sons raise. Their daughters, too, are sometimes almost brown.”