The Cook of the «Gannet»

All ready for sea, and no cook," said the mate of the schooner Gannet, gloomily. "What's become of all the cooks I can't think."

"They most on 'em ship as mates now," said the skipper, grinning. "But you needn't worry about that; I've got one coming aboard to-night. I'm trying a new experiment, George."

"I once knew a chemist who tried one," said George, "an' it blew him out of the winder; but I never heard o' shipmasters trying 'em."

"There's all kinds of experiments," rejoined the other, "What do you say to a lady cook, George?"

"A WHAT?" asked the mate in tones of strong amazement. "What, aboard a schooner?"

"Why not?" inquired the skipper warmly; "why not? There's plenty of 'em ashore — why not aboard ship?"

"'Tain't proper, for one thing," said the mate virtuously.

"I shouldn't have expected you to have thought o' that," said the other unkindly. "Besides, they have stewardesses on big ships, an' what's the difference? She's a sort o' relation o' mine, too — cousin o' my wife's, a widder woman, and a good sensible age, an' as the doctor told her to take a sea voyage for the benefit of her 'elth, she's coming with me for six months as cook. She'll take her meals with us; but, o' course, the men are not to know of the relationship."

"What about sleeping accommodation?" inquired the mate, with the air of a man putting a poser.

"I've thought o' that," replied the other; "it's all arranged."

The mate, with an uncompromising air, waited for information.

"She — she's to have your berth, George," continued the skipper, without looking at him. "You can have that nice, large, airy locker."

"One what the biscuit and onions kep' in?" inquired George.

The skipper nodded.

"I think, if it's all the same to you," said the mate, with laboured politeness, "I'll wait till the butter keg's empty, and crowd into that."

"It's no use your making yourself unpleasant about it," said the skipper, "not a bit. The arrangements are made now, and here she comes."

Following his gaze, the mate looked up as a stout, comely-looking woman of middle age came along the jetty, followed by the watchman staggering under a box of enormous proportions.

"Jim!" cried the lady.

"Halloa!" cried the skipper, starting uneasily at the title. "We've been expecting you for some time."