As all of us, with the exception of the Dandy, were Scotch, four of us
being Macs, the Maluka chose our Christmas grace from Bobby Burns; and
quietly and reverently our Scotch hearts listened to those homely words:
"Some ha'e meat, and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; But we ha'e
meat, and we can eat, And so the Lord be thankit."
Then came Cheon's turn, and gradually and cleverly his triumphs were
displayed.
To begin with, we were served to clear soup--"just to tickle your
palates," the Maluka announced, as Cheon in a hoarse whisper instructed
him to serve "little-fellow-helps" anxious that none of the keenness
should be taken from our appetites. All served, the tureen was whisked
away to ensure against further inroads, and then Cheon trundled round the
table, removing the soup plates, inquiring of each guest in turn if he
found the soup to his liking, and informing all that lubras were on guard
in the kitchen, lest the station cats should so far forget themselves as
to take an unlawful interest in our dinner.
The soup finished with, Cheon disappeared into the kitchen regions, to
reappear almost immediately at the head of a procession of lubras, each
of whom carried a piece de resistance to the feast: Jimmy's Nellie
leading with the six pullets on one great dish, while Bett-Bett brought
up the rear with the bread sauce.
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