Dory did not wait to hear any more. He was not a waiter of great experience, and he found that the confusion of orders was rather trying to him. He went to the carving-table, delivered the message of Major Billcord to the steward, and called for the orders he had received. Before he had his tray ready, the steward brought him the onions; and he carried them with the other articles to the table.
"Your onions, sir," said he, as he placed the little dish where the irate gentleman could not help seeing them.
While Dory was serving the other passengers, whose orders he had taken, and while half a dozen others were clamorous for every item on the bill of fare, Major Billcord thrust his fork into one of the odoriferous vegetables brought to him.
"These are not a whit better done than the others were!" exclaimed Major Billcord, dropping his knife and fork in disgust. "What do you mean, boy, by bringing me such onions as these?"
"The steward gave me those onions for you, sir," pleaded Dory, who was certainly doing his best to please all the passengers at the dinner table; and the young waiter had already learned that this was not one of the easiest tasks in the world.
"Don't tell me that, you young rascal! You haven't delivered my message to the steward," growled the irate passenger.
"Yes, sir: I told him just what you wanted, and he sent the dish of onions to you, sir," Dory explained.
"The steward would never have sent me such onions as these. You haven't been to him as I told you. You are an impudent young cub, and you are no more fit for a waiter than you are for a steamboat captain."
"I brought the onions the steward sent; and it isn't my fault that they are not right," said Dory gently, though he did not always speak and act in just that way.
"Is my dinner to be spoiled by the stupidity and carelessness of a boy?" demanded Major Billcord. "If I have any influence on board of this boat, such blockheads shall not be employed as waiters."