The Red Eric | Page 8

"Thank'ee, ma'am," replied Rokens, growing red, as he began to
perceive he was a little "off his course" somehow. "I've no occasion for
two, an' this one suits me oncommon."
"Ah! you prefer big spoons to little ones, my man, don't you?" said
Captain Dunning, coming to the rescue. "Let him alone, Martha, he's
used to take care of himself. Doctor, can you tell me now, which is the
easiest of digestion--a hard egg or a soft one?"
Thus appealed to, Dr Hopley paused a moment and frowned at the
teapot, as though he were about to tax his brain to the utmost in the
solution of an abstruse question in medical science.
"Well now," he replied, stirring his tea gently, and speaking with much
deliberation, "that depends very much upon circumstances. Some
digestions can manage a hard egg best, others find a soft one more
tractable. And then the state of the stomach at the time of eating has to
be taken into account. I should say now, that my little friend Ailie, here,
to judge from the rosy colour of her cheeks, could manage hard or soft
eggs equally well; couldn't you, eh?"
Ailie laughed, as she replied, "I'm sure I don't know, Doctor Hopley;
but I like soft ones best."
To this, Captain Dunning said, "Of course you do, my sensible little
pet;" although it would be difficult to show wherein lay the sensibility
of the preference, and then added--"There's Rokens, now; wouldn't you,
doctor--judging from his rosy, not to say purple cheeks--conclude that

he wasn't able to manage even two eggs of any kind?"
"Wot, me!" exclaimed Mr Rokens, looking up in surprise, as indeed he
well might, having just concluded his fourth, and being about to
commence his fifth egg, to the no small anxiety of Martha and Jane,
into whose limited and innocent minds the possibility of such a feat had
never entered. "Wot, me! Why, capting, if they was biled as hard as the
head of a marline-spike--"
The expanding grin on the captain's face, and a sudden laugh from the
mate, apprised the bold harpooner at this point of his reply that the
captain was jesting, so he felt a little confused, and sought relief by
devoting himself assiduously to egg Number 5.
It fared ill with Tim Rokens that evening that he had rashly entered into
ladies' society, for he was a nervous man in refined company, though
cool and firm as a grounded iceberg when in the society of his
messmates, or when towing with the speed of a steamboat in the wake
of a sperm-whale.
Egg Number 5 proved to be a bad one. Worse than that, egg Number 5
happened to belong to that peculiar class of bad eggs which "go off"
with a little crack when hit with a spoon, and sputter their unsavoury
contents around them. Thus it happened, that when Mr Rokens, feeling
confused, and seeking relief in attention to the business then in hand,
hit egg Number 5 a smart blow on the top, a large portion of its
contents spurted over the fair white tablecloth, a small portion fell on
Mr Rokens' vest, and a minute yellow globule thereof alighted on the
fair Martha's hand, eliciting from that lady a scream, and as a matter of
course, an echo from Jane in the shape of a screamlet.
Mr Rokens flushed a deep Indian-red, and his nose assumed a warm
blue colour instantly.
"Oh! ma'am, I ax yer parding."
"Pray don't mention it--a mere accident. I'm so sorry you have got a
bad--Oh!"

The little scream with which Miss Martha interrupted her remark was
caused by Mr Rokens (who had just observed the little yellow globule
above referred to) seizing her hand, and wiping away the speck with the
identical handkerchief that had floored the cat and swept away the pat
of butter. Immediately thereafter, feeling heated, he wiped the
perspiration from his forehead, and unwittingly transferred the spot
thereto in the form of a yellow streak, whereat Ailie and the first mate
burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Even Miss Martha smiled,
although she rather objected to jesting, as being a dangerous
amusement, and never laughed at the weaknesses or misfortunes of
others, however ludicrous they might be, when she could help it.
"How can you, brother?" she said, reproachfully, shaking her head at
the captain, who was winking at the doctor with one eye in a most
obstreperous manner. "Do try another egg, Mr Rokens; the others, I am
sure, are fresh. I cannot imagine how a bad one came to be amongst
them."
"Ah, try another, my lad," echoed the captain. "Pass 'em up this way,
Mr Millons."
"By no manner o' means; I'll eat this 'un!" replied the harpooner,
commencing to