me an anchovy, a
toast, and a bottle of old port.

WAITER. A what, sir? an ancho--

PENDRAGON. Yes, sir, an anchovy--small ones--delicate.

WAITER. Why, sir, we don't know what these are in this country.

PENDRAGON. The devil you don't! Then pray, sir, what have you to eat in
this damn'd house fit for a gentleman?

WAITER. Why, sir, not much--the army eats us out of house and home. We
have some very excellent fresh bear meat, sir.

PENDRAGON. Bear meat! Why, what the devil, fellow, do you take me for a
Chickasaw, or an Esquimau? Bear meat! the honourable captain Pendragon,
who never ate anything more gross than a cutlet at Molly's chop-house,
and who lived on pigeons' livers at Very's, in Paris, offered bear meat
in North America! I'll put that down in my travels.

WAITER. Why, sir, it is considered here a great delicacy.

PENDRAGON. The devil it is! Then pray, sir, what are your ordinary
fares, if bear's meat is considered a delicacy?

WAITER. Why, truly, sir, this is but a young country, and we have to
live upon what we can catch. Pray, would you fancy some 'possum fat and
hominy?

PENDRAGON. Oh, shocking! begone, fellow--you'll throw me into a fever
with your vile bill of fare. Get me a cup of tea--mix it, hyson and
souchong, with cream and muffins.

WAITER. We can't give you any of those things, sir.--However, you can
have an excellent cup of sage tea, sweetened with honey.

PENDRAGON. Sage tea! Why, you rascal, do you intend to throw me into a
perspiration by way of curing my hunger? or do you take me for a goose
or a duck, that you intend stuffing me with sage? Begone, get out, you
little deformed fellow! [_Exit WAITER._] I shall perish in this
barbarous land--bear meat, 'possum fat, and sage tea! O dear St. James!
I wish I was snug in my old quarters. LaRole! [_Enter LAROLE._] Where
the devil do you hide yourself in this damn'd house? Why, I shall
starve--there's nothing to eat, fit for a gentleman.

LAROLE. Oui, monsieur, dis is von damn contree, I can find nosing to
eat. I did look into all de pantri, mai parbleu, I find only a ver
pretti demoiselle, mai, I could not eat her.

PENDRAGON. We must be off to the camp, LaRole, my quarters there will be
infinitely more agreeable. I shall get the blue devils in this cursed
place.

LAROLE. Vell, sair, I have all de devils ventre bleu, das you can
imagine; dere is no politesse, no respect, nosing paid to me.

PENDRAGON. My fit of the blues is coming