When we had all got up stairs by different instalments, after pacing the decks a little, we received a summons to breakfast. I endeavoured to sham an appetite, but it was no go; so I ate sparingly, being most distrustful of the future.
"Waiter!" cried one of the English,—a short, stout gentleman, in a dressing-gown,—"bring up the parcel in front of my berth."
"Sart'nly, sir!" replied the smart handman.
Up came the parcel; and, as I had heard the demand, I had the curiosity to see what came of it. The parcel turned out to be a nice brown-bread loaf, off which the owner cut a small slice, and carefully put it on a plate by his side. His neighbour on the other side then began talking to him, which diverted his attention from the loaf. His other neighbour, who had not seen where it came from, wanting some bread, and finding it at his elbow, helped himself; and a man, a little lower down, said,
"May I trouble you for the bread?"
"With pleasure, sir;" and another slice went, and so on, till the last remnant came round to the man who sat opposite the rightful owner, who was talking away still, with his friend, as if they had been settling the tithe question. He took the bit left, and began devouring it; and a pause having taken place in the conversation opposite, he said to the loaf-proprietor,
"For myself, I like brown bread just as well as white; what do you say?"
"Why, I prefer it; and, not knowing that we should get it on board, I took the precaution of bringing a loaf with me, big enough to last me all the——"
As he spoke, he turned to illustrate his remark by showing the size of his loaf, when, to his dismay, he found nothing but the empty plate. I never shall forget his face. He first of all turned to the man who had addressed him, and into whose capacious mouth the last morsel was vanishing:
"Confound it, sir! that's my bread you're eating!"