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”What can I get you?”
” Get me out of this”, was the reply.
And they ran him up quick, and propped him up, over to leewerd,
and left him.
For the next few days he lived a simple and blameless life on thin
captain biscuits (I mean that the biscuits were thin, not the captain) and
soda-water; but, towards Saturday he went in for weak tea and dry toast,
and on Monday he ate chicken broth. He left the ship on Tuesday, and as
it steamed away from the landing - stage he gazed after it regretfully.
”There she goes,he said,- ”there she goes with two pound worth of food
on board that belongs to me and that I haven't had”.

***

Text 2

Scan the conversation and render it.

(From ”Howards End”
by E. M. Forster)

"I just slipped in and secured a table. Always secure a table first.
My goodness, but you look tired!”
”I'm hungry, not tired; I want to eat heaps.“
”That's good. What'll you have?”
”Fish pie,” she said with a glance at the menu.
”Fish pie! Fancy coming for fish pie to Simpson's. It's not a bit the
thing to go for here.”
”Go for something for me, then,” said Margaret, pulling off the
gloves. Her spirits were rising,
”Saddle of mutton,” said he after profound reflection,” and cider
to drink. That's the type of thing. I like this place, for a joke once in a
way. It is so thoroughly Old English. Don't you agree?”
”Yes,” said Margaret, who didn't. The order was given, the joint
rolled up, and the carver cut the meat where it was succulent and piled
their plates high.
”It's a golden rule to tip the carver. Tip everywhere's my motto.”
”Perhaps it does make life more humane.”
”Then the fellows know one again. Especially in the East, if you
tip, they remember you from year's end to year's end.”
***

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