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Updated: June 17, 2025
He had fled for refuge to his stateroom and was lying in the lower berth, chewing the pillow, a soul in torment. There was a tap at the door. Sam sat up dizzily. He had lost all count of time. "Who's that?" "I have a note for you, sir." It was the level voice of J. B. Midgeley, the steward.
"You've altered them." "I haven't." "Well, you soon will, and I'll tell you why. If you don't get up out of that damned berth you've been roosting in all your life, I'm going to ring for J. B. Midgeley and I'm going to tell him to bring me a bit of dinner in here and I'm going to eat it before your eyes." "But you've had dinner." "Well, I'll have another.
"You've altered them." "I haven't." "Well, you soon will, and I'll tell you why. If you don't get up out of that damned berth you've been roosting in all your life, I'm going to ring for J. B. Midgeley and I'm going to tell him to bring me a bit of dinner in here and I'm going to eat it before your eyes." "But you've had dinner." "Well, I'll have another.
All the rest may be considered as barbarous. BOSWELL. 'Pray, Sir, is the Turkish Spy a genuine book? JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. Mrs. Manley, in her Life, says that her father wrote the first two volumes : and in another book, Dunton's Life and Errours, we find that the rest was written by one Sault, at two guineas a sheet, under the direction of Dr. Midgeley .
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