'That's just what I used to say when I first went as cook aboard ship, but I had a shot at it, and a nice mess I made of it. But when I came home from that trip I gave another cook a shilling to teach me how to make a few fancy things, and now I'm thought as good a cook as any in the North Sea.'
'But you know how to make plum duff. I don't.'
'I will tell you. When I discovered how to make anything, I put the particulars down in writing in a little book. I will lend you the book.'
The bow-legged cook put his hand in his pocket and drew out a grimy, paper-covered note-book.
'Plum duff comes first,' he said, as he handed the book to Charlie. 'Can you read it?'
'There are a few words which I can't quite understand,' Charlie replied, for the cookery-book was an extraordinary work. The writing was bad, the spelling was worse, and the abbreviations were confusing. But the cook went right through the book with him then and there.
'Now you'll be able to cook anything,' he declared, when they had got to the end.
'I'm not so sure of that,' Charlie answered; 'but anyhow, I shall have some idea of how to set to work. What time to-morrow shall I have to be aboard?'
'At six in the morning.'
'Won't the skipper discover me before we get out of the river?'