Can you feel this towards me, Sophy, can you, dear? Then be
quick--"pick up chips and call your father to dinner."
CHAPTER XXII.
A DISH OF CLAMS.
Eating is the chief occupation at sea. It's the great topic as well as
the great business of the day, especially in small sailing vessels
like the "Black Hawk;" although anything is good enough for me when I
can't get nothin' better, which is the true philosophy of life. If
there is a good dish and a bad one set before me, I am something of a
rat, I always choose the best.
There are few animals, as there are few men, that we can't learn
something from. Now a rat, although I hate him like pyson, is a
travelling gentleman, and accommodates himself to circumstances. He
likes to visit people that are well off, and has a free and easy way
about him, and don't require an introduction. He does not wait to be
pressed to eat, but helps himself, and does justice to his host and
his viands. When hungry, he will walk into the larder and take a lunch
or a supper without requiring any waiting on. He is abstemious, or
rather temperate in his drinking. Molasses and syrup he prefers to
strong liquors, and he is a connoisseur in all things pertaining to
the dessert. He is fond of ripe fruit, and dry or liquid preserves,
the latter of which he eats with cream, for which purpose he forms a
passage to the dairy.
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