"Spalagus—spalagus? Goo-oo-d!"
"Did you never eat asparagus before, Washington?"
"Never eat him—nev' see him. Spalagus—spalagus! Goo-oo-d!"
Hustleburger now brought in the dessert, which consisted of canned currant-jelly, served in the can. Each guest[page 260] helped himself from the original package, using a "hard tack" for a dessert-plate, more antiquo. Washington was bidden to help himself. Before doing so, however, he wished to test the substance placed before him, and, taking a little on the end of his spoon, he carried it to his lips. Then an expression of intense enjoyment overspread his dusky face; his black eyes sparkled like diamonds; his full lips were wreathed in a smile. "Ah! goo-oo-oo-d!" he cried, with a mouthful of o's. "What you call him?"
"Jelly."
"Yelly? Ah! yelly goo-oo-ood! Me—like—yelly—much." And he helped himself plentifully.
A smell of burning woollen became unpleasantly noticeable. Washington still had the stove between his legs: it was red-hot. He never moved, but ate "yelly."
"Washington, you're burning!" cried the lieutenant.
Washington smiled. "Much wah-r-rum!" he remarked in the coolest manner possible.
"Throw open the front, then."