"Never you mind," said Lemuel, "you'll find out soon enough. Breakfast's ready. Anybody want breakfast?" Before anyone had a chance to reply, the parrot opened his mouth wide and gave a loud laugh, and cried out: "Th-th-three ch-cheers! Th-th-there's ch-ch-chops, s-s-steak, b-b-bacon and eggs! I'll have l-l-l-liver and onions! Ha! ha! ha! Th-th-three ch-cheers for l-l-l-liver and onions!" "Be quiet, Marmaduke," said the Able Seaman. "I'll lock you up again, if you ain't careful." "K-k-k-ker-_choo_!" said Marmaduke, giving a loud sneeze; and rubbed his beak with his foot and fluttered his feathers. "L-l-l-lock me up in the a-a-after hold, till I g-g-g-get all over this d-d-d-dreadful cold! Th-th-three ch-cheers for hay f-f-f-fever! K-k-k-ker-_choo_!" "I'll lock you up in the after hold, if you don't quit being so fresh and bold; I'll learn you manners before I'm through, and if ever I hear one little--" "Ker-_choo_!" said Marmaduke, finishing Mr. Mizzen's sentence for him very neatly. Everyone laughed, except the Able Seaman. "All right," said he, "just wait till I've had my chow, I'll attend to you proper; now off with you--now!" And he tossed Master Marmaduke off his wrist up into the air. The parrot lit on a spar overhead, just under a sail, and peered down at the company without the least appearance of embarrassment. "If there's b-b-b-bacon and eggs," he cried, "I'll take l-l-l-liver! Th-th-three ch-ch-cheers for l-l-l-liver!" [Illustration: "L-l-lem!" shrieked the parrot. "Who's your f-f-f-friends?"] Freddie burst into a merry laugh, and all his friends joined; all except Mr. Punch, who looked puzzled. "'Ow could 'e 'ave liver," said he, "hif there was only bycon an' heggs?" At this everyone laughed louder than before, and Mr. Punch was completely perplexed. "I'll explain that to you some day," said Toby. "Didn't you never hear a joke?" "Ho, yes," said Mr. Punch. "Hi 'eard a wery good joke once; a wery good one indeed. Hi'll relate it to you. When I was a lad--" "There's the breakfast bell," said Mr. Mizzen. "Sorry to interrupt, but we mustn't let it get cold. We'll hold the election afterwards." No one waited to hear Mr. Punch's joke. The Able Seaman led the way, and all the others followed him down the deck, towards a kind of three-sided box which opened on a stairway below. In a moment or two they found themselves in the dining-saloon, and in another moment they were seated about a round table, set for breakfast. The passengers insisted on the Able Seaman's sitting down with them, and he consented to do so. A lad of about eighteen entered, to wait on the table. He had a shock of bright red hair, and a kind of frightened look in his eyes, as if he were afraid he would do everything wrong, and would always be in hot water about it. He stood behind the Able Seaman's chair, and began to make a queer contortion of the face, in an effort to speak. "Th-th-th-there's--" he began.