Yarn followed yarn, and tale tale, but all short and crisp; the captain joked himself, and encouraged his men to joke, so that, despite the heat, it really was a very pleasant Christmas dinner-party. But the coming of the pudding was the great event. For, you see, it was an immensely large one, and as the ship rolled so much, the danger of its being sent flying into the scuppers before reaching the table, and being all smashed, was very great indeed. Even the night before, the captain had commissioned the doctor to superintend its safe delivery. And that worthy had positively got Chips to make a kind of ambulance stretcher, partly canvas and partly bamboo cane, to put the trencher on, and this was borne by two men. "Now," said the captain, when the roast beef had been taken away, "are you all ready, doctor?" "Yes," said the man of physic, wiping the sweat off his brow. "I'm all ready if the pudding is." "The cook's waiting, sir," said the steward, who was trying to steady himself by keeping firm hold of the mizen rigging. "Well, here's for off," said the surgeon, getting up. "Do your duty like a man," cried the captain, laughing, as the doctor went staggering forward. "And keep to your legs, doctor, keep to your legs." There was silence now around the table for many long anxious minutes. It was a solemn time. There was nothing to be heard but the throb-throb of the engines--the beating of the ship's great heart. Would the doctor and his party succeed in landing the pudding aft? That was the great question for the time being, which every one was asking himself. Would the pudding arrive in safety? Every eye was turned forward. Behold, they come. Their heads are already above the fore hatch. Slowly they emerge, and stand for a moment swaying hither and thither. The doctor heads the procession. The cook himself brings up the rear. Now the doctor's voice is heard. "Are you all ready again, men?" "All ready, sir." "Steady, then; steady as you go. March!" How steady they move! How quietly! A soldier's funeral is nothing to it! How they rock, and how they sway, taking advantage of every seeming break in the ship's motion, cautioning each other with uplifted fingers, the doctor with his left hand over the prize, the cook with his right, ready to clutch it if it moves, ready to fall with it if it falls. Nearer and nearer they come. Nearer and nearer the great IT--the pudding--comes. And now it is almost alongside the captain and the expectant crew, when--oh moment of grief and horror!--the ship gives a fearful lurch, and the whole procession, pudding and all, is sent flying across the deck and brought up all of a heap close under the port bulwarks.