He coarsely ordered the senior kitchen-helper to do my work, and this man would break the glasses out of spite, while the chief steward told me quietly:
"I shall have you put off the boat."
One day Maxim on purpose placed several glasses in a bowl of dirty water and tea-leaves. I emptied the water overboard, and the glasses went flying with it.
"It is my fault," said Smouri to the head steward. "Put it down to my account."
The dining-room attendants began to look at me with lowering brows, and they used to say:
"Ei! you bookworm! What are you paid for?"
And they used to try and make as much work as they could for me, soiling plates needlessly. I was sure that this would end badly for me, and I was not mistaken.
One evening, in a little shelter on the boat, there sat a red-faced woman with a girl in a yellow coat and a new pink blouse. Both had been drinking. The woman smiled, bowed to every one, and said on the note O, like a church clerk:
"Forgive me, my friends; I have had a little too much to drink. I have been tried and acquitted, and I have been drinking for joy."
The girl laughed, too, gazing at the other passengers with glazed eyes. Pushing the woman away, she said: