Desk and Debit; or, The Catastrophes of a ClerkOptic, Oliver
General
Desk and Debit; or, The Catastrophes of a Clerk
Optic, Oliver
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Fraud -- Juvenile fiction; Sailing -- Juvenile fiction
If I had not been so anxious to overtake Mr. Whippleton, I should have
enjoyed my occupation in the cook-room of the Marian much better. Being
in a boat at all was a very pleasant thing to me; a place in the
cook-room was still better; while a seat in the standing-room, with one
hand on the tiller, in charge of the craft, was the most delightful
recreation which the earth had yet presented me. The kitchen of the
Marian was substantially the same as that of the Florina, where I had
cooked a great many suppers. I knew where to find everything without
being told, and I was at home at once.
In looking over the stores, I found what seemed to me to be a month's
supply. I knew that Mr. Waterford had expected a party of half a dozen;
but the provision lockers contained enough to dine a hundred. There was
a great quantity of substantials, such as pork, ham, potatoes, and
beef. I thought he had been very lavish for a party for a single day.
The bin for charcoal, which was the fuel used in the stove, was filled
full.
I selected a nice slice of beefsteak, and proceeded to cut up the
potatoes I was to fry. I was soon very busy, and wholly absorbed in my
occupation. I enjoyed it, and though it may not be the highest ambition
to be a cook, it is a very useful employment. There is an art about
cooking; and as I fried the potatoes, I thought it required just as
much science as it did to keep a set of books. If I had had Mrs.
Whippleton's treasure safe in my possession, I should have been
superlatively happy. I cooked all the potatoes I thought would be
required for dinner, even giving Miss Collingsby credit for an
unfashionably good appetite. The tea-kettle was boiling, and I was just
going to fill up the coffee-pot, when a shrill scream startled me, and
dissolved the spell which the delights of my occupation had woven
around me.
It was the voice of a lady, and of course it could be no other than
that of our beautiful passenger. At first it occurred to me that the
boom had swung over, and hit her upon the head; but the boat was still
heeled over to the leeward, as she had been for the last hour; and I
knew that the boom could not go over unless the boat came up to an even
keel. Then it flashed upon me that either the skipper or his fair
companion had fallen overboard. But I did not wait to discuss
probabilities or possibilities; I hastened on deck, passing through the
fore scuttle, which I had opened to give me air and light.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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