Of these the most popular was the “Garry Sandwich.” Components: a half-stick of chocolate cream sandwiched between two “squashed-fly” biscuits; the whole beaten thin with a cricket-bat, gymnasium shoe, or other implement handy. The peculiarity of this particular form of dainty was that it sufficed as an unfailing bribe wherewith to open negotiations with one Dunn, the septuagenarian keeper of the pleasure boats. The moral atmosphere of the boat-house, in consequence of its custodian’s sweetness of tooth, came in time to resemble that of a Chinese yamen. Another delicacy about which legend clustered was the “Ship’s Bun,” split in half, with a liberal cementing of Devonshire cream and strawberry jam oozing out at the sides. Concerning the bun itself, the maternal solicitude of the authorities extended one gratis to each cadet ashore on half-holidays lest the impecunious should hunger unnecessarily between lunch and tea. The buns were obtainable on application at the counter, whence the daughter of the proprietor--whom we will call Maunder--was charged with the duty of issuing them. How she pretended to remember the two and a half hundred faces that presented themselves in surging crowds round the counter at 4 p.m. is more than her present recorder can say. But even as she extended a bun to the outstretched grubby hand of a suppliant, an expression of vixen-like indignation and cunning would transform her features. “You’ve ’ad a bun afore!” she would snap shrilly, withdrawing the bounty in the nick of time. The hungry petitioner, cheerfully acknowledging defeat in a game of bluff, would then withdraw, pursued by Miss Maunder’s invective. All the same she was not infallible, and on occasions hot protestations and even mutual recrimination rang to and fro across the counter. Appeal, ultimately carried to Mr. Maunder, was treated in much the same way as it is by croupiers at Monte Carlo. A gentleman’s word is his word. But it is as well not to be the victim of too many mistakes. Maunder, who was occupied with the stern responsibility of catering for the whim of the rich, had a way of recapitulating the orders from the beginning, adding up aloud as the count went on, thus: _Cadet_: A strawberry ice, please, Maunder. _Maunder_: One strawberry ice tuppence. _Cadet_: Oh, and a doughnut, while you’re about it. _Maunder_: One strawberry ice one doughnut thruppence. _Cadet_: That’s just to go on with. Then in a bag I want a stick of cream chocolate---- _Maunder_: One strawberry ice one doughnut one stick cream chocolate fourpence. _Cadet_: (breathlessly) And a bottle of barley sugar and a “My Queen” and four Garry biscuits and half a pound of cherries and a bottle of lemonade and one of ginger beer and--that’s all, I think.