Крижаний сфінкс
Chapter XX. “Unmerciful Disaster“
Endicott,thecook,wastheonlymanwhosubmittedwithoutmurmuring.Asanegro,whocareslittleaboutthefuture,shallowandfrivolouslikeallhisrace,heresignedhimselfeasilytohisfate;andthisis,perhaps,truephilosophy.Besides,whenitcametothequestionofcooking,itmatteredverylittletohimwhetheritwashereorthere,solongashisstovesweresetupsomewhere.
Sohesaidtohisfriendthemate,withhisbroadnegrosmile,—
“Luckilymykitchendidnotgooffwiththeschooner,andyoushallsee,Hurliguerly,ifIdonotmakeupdishesjustasgoodasonboardtheHalbrane,solongasprovisionsdon’tgrowscarce,ofcourse—”
“Well!theywillnotbewantingforsometimetocome,”repliedtheboatswain.“Weneednotfearhunger,butcold,suchcoldaswouldreduceyoutoanicicletheminuteyouceasetowarmyourfeet—coldthatmakesyourskincrackandyourskullsplit!Evenifwehadsomehundredsoftonsofcoal—But,allthingsbeingwellcalculated,thereisonlyjustwhatwilldotoboilthislargekettle.”
“Andthatissacred,”criedEndicott;“touchingisforbidden!Thekitchenbeforeall.”
“Andthatisthereasonwhyitneverstrikesyoutopityyourself,youoldnigger!Youcanalwaysmakesureofkeepingyourfeetwarmatyouroven!”
“Whatwouldyouhave,boatswain?Youareafirst-ratecook,oryouarenot.Whenyouare,youtakeadvantageofit;butIwillremembertokeepyoualittleplacebeforemystove.
