He deposited the various dishes, some before Tom, and the remainder before the captain.
Tom was not used to restaurants of the better class, and did not see the necessity of an empty plate in addition to the dish which contained the meat. Such ceremony was not in vogue at the ten-cent restaurants which she had hitherto patronized. She fixed her eyes eagerly upon the beefsteak, which emitted a very savory odor.
“Pass your plate, Tom, and I will give you some meat.”
Tom passed her plate, nothing loath, and the captain transferred to it a liberal supply of meat.
Tom waited for no ceremony, but, seizing her knife, attacked the meat vigorously.
“How is it?” asked her companion, amused.
“Bully!” said Tom, too busy to raise her eyes from her plate.
“Let me help you to a little of the omelet.”
Tom extended her plate, and a portion of the omelet was placed upon it.
Tom raised a little to her lips, cautiously, for it was a new dish to her, and she did not know whether she would like it. It seemed to be satisfactory, however, none being left upon her plate when she had finished eating.
Not much conversation went on during the meal. Tom’s entire energies were given to disposing of the squarest meal in which she had ever indulged, and the captain’s attention was divided between his breakfast and the young waif upon whom he was bestowing perfect bliss.
At length Tom’s efforts relaxed. She laid down her knife and fork, and heaved a sigh of exquisite enjoyment.
“Well,” said the captain, “would you like some more?”
“Didn’t I, just?” and Tom’s tone spoke volumes.
“I’m glad of that. I think it’s very good myself.”
“You’re a brick!” said Tom, in a tone of grateful acknowledgment.
“Thank you,” said Captain Barnes, his eyes twinkling a little; “I try to be.”
“I wonder what granny would say if she knowed where I was,” soliloquized Tom, aloud.
“She’d be glad you had enjoyed your breakfast.”
“You don’t give your grandmother a very good character. Doesn’t she like you?”
“No; she hates me, and I hate her. She takes all my money, and then licks me.”
“That’s unpleasant, to be sure. Then you don’t want to go back to her?”
“Not for Joe!” said Tom, shaking her head very decidedly.
“Then you expect to take care of yourself? Do you think you can?”