His eyes followed Charley's departing form with pitying fondness.
"Poor lad," he sighed, "he hates to give up, and he is thoroughly discouraged. It isn't often he gets that way though the good Lord knows he has but little to keep him bright and cheerful. No father, no mother, and his whole young life a constant battle against hardships and disappointments."
When Charley returned his gloominess had vanquished. "Nothing like good salt air and a long swim to get the best of the blues, Captain," he announced, cheerfully. "I feel fit to do battle with the world again now. How's the boy coming on?"
"Fine," the captain declared. "I'm expecting him to wake up hungry."
"I'll be fixed for him, sho'," declared Chris, eagerly. "Dis has been de longest day for dis nigger, he jus' seemed to be in the way an' ob no account, so he's jus' been fixing up to feed you-all, dat does all de work, jus' de best he kin. Golly I got a supper dat will satisfy Massa Walt all right. I got fresh fish fried nice and brown, big fat oysters from off de rocks roasted in dere own juice, scallops chopped up fine and made inter meat balls, nice fresh corn bread an' plenty of coffee."
"It would kill Walt to eat all that," laughed Charley. "Make up a little oyster soup and we will give him that when he wakes up. Your feast will not be wasted," he said hastily, as he saw the little negro's look of disappointment. "You want to remember that the captain and I haven't eaten since yesterday."
"Dat's so," agreed Chris, brightening. "Hit's all ready when you is."
He had little cause for complaint for when the two had finished there was little but crumbs left of the delicious meal.
"Now I am ready to sleep," Charley announced, with a sigh of content.