It was not long, however, before Hakkabut was to be called upon to apply his money to a purpose for which he had not reckoned. In his eagerness to effect sales, he had parted with all the alimentary articles in his cargo without having the precautionary prudence to reserve enough for his own consumption. Amongst other things that failed him was his stock of coffee, and as coffee was a beverage without which he deemed it impossible to exist, he found himself in considerable perplexity.
He pondered the matter over for a long time, and ultimately persuaded himself that, after all, the stores were the common property of all, and that he had as much right to a share as anyone else. Accordingly, he made his way to Ben Zoof, and, in the most amiable tone he could assume, begged as a favor that he would let him have a pound of coffee.
The orderly shook his head dubiously.
“A pound of coffee, old Nathan? I can’t say.”
“Why not? You have some?” said Isaac.
“Oh yes! plenty—a hundred kilogrammes.”
“Then let me have one pound. I shall be grateful.”
“Hang your gratitude!”
“Only one pound! You would not refuse anybody else.”
“That’s just the very point, old Samuel; if you were anybody else, I should know very well what to do. I must refer the matter to his Excellency.”