'JOHN WILLIAMS, THE COOK. 163 



son, garnished with currant-jelly, which was await- 

 ing me, and upon the preparation of which the cook 

 had evidently exhausted all his skill ; and afterward 

 Knorr made for me, with my alcohol furnace, a cup 

 of aromatic Mocha. 



And so one may find pleasure even where Bacchus 

 and Cupid deign not to come. True, this is the re- 

 gion into which Apollo voluntarily wandered after the 

 decree of Olympus made him an exile, and where the 

 Hellenic poets dreamed of men living to an incredible 

 age, in the enjoyment of all possible felicity; but, to 

 say the truth, I question the wisdom of the banished 

 god, as tradition makes no mention of a schooner, and 

 I find that in this " Residence of Boreas " one must 

 look out for himself pretty sharply, — poets to the 

 contrary, notwithstanding. 



The cook brought me the dinner himself " I tinks 

 de Commander likes dis," said he, " coming from de 

 cold." 



" Yes, cook, it is really superb. Now, what can I do 

 for you ? " 



" Tank you, sar ! I tinks if de Commander would 

 only be so kind as to give me a clean shirt, I shall be 

 very tankful. He see dis one be very dirty, and I 

 gets no time to vash him." 



" Certainly, cook, you shall have two." 



" Tank you, sar ! " — and he bends himself half 

 double, meaning it for a bow, and goes back well 

 pleased to his stove and his coppers. 



Our cook is quite a character. He is much the old- 

 est man on board, and is the most singular mixture of 

 adverse moral qualities that I have ever chanced to 

 meet. He makes it his boast that he has never been 

 ofi* the ship's deck since leaving Boston. " Vat should 



