Part 7 (2/2)
”Breakfast is ready,” said Paul.
”Did you cook it, though?”
”I did; I told you I could.”
”I'll give up now. Why don't you hire out for a cook?”
”Perhaps I shall, one of these days.”
”Wouldn't mother's eyes stick out if she should happen in about this time!”
”I guess not much.”
But they did, for just as the boys were seating themselves at the table, Mrs. Duncan entered the room.
”Why, boys! what have you been doing?” exclaimed she, astonished at the regularity with which everything seemed to be proceeding in her absence.
”Only getting something to eat before we go,” replied Paul.
”Why didn't you call me?”
”I thought I wouldn't get you up so early; besides, I could get breakfast just as well myself.”
”I declare you are a good cook, Paul. Your potatoes and meat look as nice as can be. How is your coffee? Did you put a piece of fish-skin in the pot?”
”Yes, ma'am.”
”Did you put any salt on the meat?”
”I did; come, mother, sit down and eat your breakfast.”
Mrs. Duncan accepted this polite invitation, and seating herself in her accustomed place, began to pour out the coffee. It was clear, and of the right strength, and she liberally praised Paul for his culinary skill, and declared that her son was a jewel about the house. The breakfast seemed even better than usual that morning, and our hero was as proud as though he had built a meeting house.
”Come, John, we must bear a hand; there isn't a breath of wind, and it will take us some time to make Rock Island,” said Paul, as he rose from the table. ”Have you filled the jug with water?”
”No, but I will.”
”Here is some gingerbread and cheese for luncheon,” added Mrs. Duncan, as she handed Paul a basket she had filled for their use. ”Now, be very careful, and don't run any risk. Look out for squalls, and don't carry sail too long.”
”I'll be very careful, mother. You may trust me to go round the world,”
replied Paul.
”But I wish you had a better boat.”
”She'll do very well, mother, though I hope to have a better one some time or other.”
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