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The raw material for the delectable flipflop was there, cans groaning with egg-powder, raisins for plum-duff, savory bacon, rice enough for twenty weddings and chocolate enough to corner the market in chocolate sundaes. Cans of exasperated milk, as Pee-wee called it, swelled his duffel bag, and salt and pepper he also carried because, as Roy said, he was both fresh and full of pep.
His cooking was done sailor fashion, like everything else, and he never failed to have plum-duff on Sunday. His well was near his house, and every morning he dropped into it a lead and line, and noted down the depth of water.
There was a litter on the floor of old newspapers and documents, receipts for harbour dues, the captain's copies of bills of lading, store lists, and some picture-postcards from the old man's family. A lump of indurated plum-duff, like a geological specimen, was on the table. There was a slant of sunshine through a square port window, and it rested on a decayed suit of oilskins.
But I'll come back, you know, Hetty, with a fortin see if I don't an' then, oh! won't I keep a carridge an' a ridin' 'oss for daddy, an' feed mother an' you on plum-duff an' pork sassengers to breakfast, dinner, an' supper, with ice cream for a relish!" Poor Hetty did not even smile at this prospect of temporal felicity.
A galley; a galley-fire; a cook; coffee for all hands; lobscouse; plum-duff; sea-pies; even the much-despised pea-soup and salt junk, had been long looked upon as things belonging to another world, pleasures of the past, never more to be indulged in!
But I'll give ye another, if ye don't object." "No, no. All right; go ahead, Gurney! Is there a chorus to it?" "Ay, in course there is. Wot's a song without a chorus? Wot's plum-duff without the plums? Wot's a ship without a 'elm? It's my opinion, shipmates, that a song without a chorus is no better than it should be.
Brackett's retreating nose. "Think I don't know how to make plum-duff me that's sailed the sea for thutty-five years?" "Never made no such remarks on your cookin'," declared the guest, clearing his husky throat in which the food seemed to be sticking. "Hain't got no fault to find with that plum-duff?" "Not a mite," agreed Mr. Brackett, heartily.
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