Dinner was on the table in the forward cabin. The three stewards stood behind the chairs. The table looked as neat as that of a first-class hotel.
The linen was clean and white, the articles were arranged with good taste, and the dishes were neatly disposed in their proper places.
Captain Gildrock took his place at the head of the table, with the chief steward behind his chair. The first officer was directed to take the seat at the opposite end of the table. Mr. Jepson and Mr. Brookbine sat on the right and left of the captain, and the rest took such places as they chose.
The dinner was not an elaborate one, and both of the cooks were equal to such a meal every day in the week. In front of the captain was a dish of beefsteak, and before the first officer a platter of veal-cutlets. There were several kinds of vegetables, besides boiled potatoes and chips.
Every thing was well cooked; and the occupants of the galley declared that it ought to be, for both of them had done this thing times enough to learn how. The captain declared that Pemberton Millweed was good for something; and, if he would devote himself to the art of cooking, he could make more money in one year than he could in six as a counter-jumper. The captain said as much as this to him after dinner.
“But it is not quite so genteel,” replied Pemberton with a smile.
“Genteel!” exclaimed the captain in a most contemptuous tone. “I will venture to say, that the cook of a first-class hotel in New York, not to mention many private families, is more genteel than any counter-jumper in Burlington. The most genteel man I ever saw was a journeyman barber. The bartenders cut the biggest swell in some cities. I can’t see why a cook should not be as genteel as a counter-jumper, if he is so disposed. Male cooks get anywhere from six hundred to three thousand dollars a year, and they can better afford to be genteel than clerks on five to ten dollars a week.”
The captain was rather curious to know what had happened at the house of Farmer Millweed after the poor man went home that morning, but he was not willing to ask either of the boys about it. The sons had both joined the school, and both were discharging their duties manfully. Doubtless there had been a stormy scene at the house of the farmer, and Mr. Millweed had risen somewhat in the estimation of the shipmaster.
The tables were set a second time at half-past twelve; and the port watch fared as well as the starboard, for, as far as practicable, a fresh meal had been cooked for its members. Mr. Jepson reported Bolingbroke as both willing and intelligent. He knew all about a steam-engine, and not a little about chemistry and the mathematics; for which the captain was willing to give the credit to the Genverres high-school.
Obeying the instructions of the captain, Dory had come about, and the steamer was headed up the lake. At Cumberland Head she changed her course again, and ran for Plattsburgh. At the north beacon on the breakwater, he rang to stop her. The second officer, prompted by the captain, had the anchor all ready to let go. The pilot gave the order when he was ready.