"I hope you'll like
it."
The boys filed in and took seats. The servant girl already referred
to began to bring plates of soup and set before the boys. It was a
thin, unwholesome-looking mixture, with one or two small pieces of
meat, about the size of a chestnut, in each plate, and fragments of
potatoes and carrots. A small, triangular wedge of dry bread was
furnished with each portion of soup.
"We all begin to eat together. Don't be in a hurry," said Wilkins,
in a low tone.
When all the boys were served, Socrates Smith, who sat in an
armchair at the head of the table, said:
"Boys, we are now about to partake of the bounties of Providence,
let me hope, with grateful hearts."
He touched a hand bell, and the boys took up their soup spoons.
Hector put a spoonful gingerly into his mouth, and then, stopping
short, looked at Wilkins. His face was evidently struggling not to
express disgust.
"Is it always as bad?" he asked, in a whisper.
"Yes," answered Wilkins, shrugging his shoulders.
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