aren't they fine?" said Sandy, under his breath.

Oscar giggled. "They are artificial, Sandy. How awfully green you
are!"

Sandy stoutly maintained that they were real flowers. He could smell
them. But when one of the waiters, having accidentally overturned one
of the vases and knocked a flaming bouquet on the carpeted floor of
the cabin, snatched it up and dusted it with his big black hand, Sandy
gave in, and murmured, "Tis true; they're false."

But the boys' eyes fairly stood out with wonder and admiration when a
procession of colored men came out of the pantry, bearing a grand
array of ornamental dishes. Pineapples, bananas, great baskets of
fancy cakes, and other dainties attracted their wonder-stricken gaze.
But most of all, numerous pyramids of macaroons, two or three feet
high, with silky veils of spun sugar falling down from summit to base,
fascinated their attention. They had never seen the like at a public
table; and the generous board of the "New Lucy" fairly groaned with
good things when the gong somewhat superfluously announced to the
waiting throng that dinner was served.

"No plates, knives, or forks," said Sandy, as, amid a great clatter
and rush, everybody sat down to the table. Just then a long procession
of colored waiters emerged from the pantry, the foremost man carrying
a pile of plates, and after him came another with a basket of knives,
after him another with a basket of forks, then another with spoons,
and so on, each man carrying a supply of some one article for the
table. With the same military precision that had marked all their
movements, six black hands were stretched at the same instant over the
shoulders of the sitting passengers, and six articles were noiselessly
dropped on the table; then, with a similar motion, the six black hands
went back to their respective owners, as the procession moved along
behind the guests, the white-sleeved arms and black hands waving in
the air and keeping exact time as the procession moved around the
table.

"Looks like a white-legged centipede," muttered Sandy, under his
breath. But more evolutions were coming. These preliminaries having
been finished, the solemn procession went back to the kitchen regions,
and presently came forth again, bearing a glittering array of shining
metal covered dishes. At the tap of the pompous head-waiter's bell,
every man stood at "present arms," as Oscar said. Then, at another
tap, each dish was projected over the whi