ely Number 27
entered the coffee-room, and was so closely followed by the waiter with
breakfast that it seemed as if that self-sacrificing functionary had sat
up all night keeping the meal hot in order to testify, by excessive
punctuality, the devotion of his soul to duty.

The keen-eyed man had a keen appetite, if one might judge from
appearances in such a matter. A thick underdone steak that overwhelmed
his plate appeared to melt away rapidly from before him. Potatoes he
disposed of in two bites each; small ones were immolated whole. Of
mustard he used as much as might have made a small-sized plaster; pepper
he sowed broadcast; he made no account whatever of salt, and sugar was
as nothing before him. There was a peculiar crash in the sound produced
by the biting of his toast, which was suggestive at once of irresistible
power and thorough disintegration. Coffee went down in half-cup gulps;
shrimps disappeared in shoals, shells and all; and--in short, his
proceedings might have explained to an intelligent observer how it is
that so many men grow to be exceedingly fat, and why it is that hotel
proprietors cannot afford to lower their apparently exorbitant charges.
The waiter, standing modestly by, and looking on with solemn interest,
mentally attributed the traveller's extraordinary powers and high health
to the fact that he neither smoked nor drank. It would be presumptuous
in us to hazard a speculation on this subject in the face of an opinion
held by one who was so thoroughly competent to judge.

Breakfast over, the keen-eyed man put on his hat and overcoat and
sallied forth to the harbour, where he spent the greater part of the
forenoon in loitering about, inspecting the boats--particularly the
lifeboat--and the shipping with much interest, and entering into
conversation with the boatmen who lounged upon the pier. He was very
gracious to the coxswain of the lifeboat--a bluff, deep-chested, hearty,
neck-or-nothing sort of man, with an intelligent eye, almost as keen as
his own, and a manner quite as prompt. With this coxswain he conversed
long about the nature of his stirring and dangerous duties. He then
made inquiry about his crew: how many men he had, and their
circumstances; and, by the way, whether any of them happened to be named
Jones. One of them was so named, the coxswain said--Tom Jones. This
led the traveller to ask if Tom Jones owned a small sloop. No, he
didn't own a sloop, not even a boat.