Mr Apjohn, who sat immediately opposite to Frank, had, by some well-planned manoeuvre, contrived to get before him the jowl of a salmon; but, unfortunately, he was not for a while equally successful in the article of sauce.

A very limited portion--so at least thought Mr Apjohn--had been put on his plate; and a servant, with a huge sauce tureen, absolutely passed behind his back inattentive to his audible requests.

Poor Mr Apjohn in his despair turned round to arrest the man by his coat-tails; but he was a moment too late, and all but fell backwards on the floor.

As he righted himself he muttered an anathema, and looked with a face of anguish at his plate.
"Anything the matter, Apjohn ?" said Mr Fothergill, kindly, seeing the utter despair written on the poor man's countenance; "can I get anything for you ?" "The sauce!" said Mr Apjohn, in a voice that would have melted a hermit; and as he looked at Mr Fothergill, he pointed at the now distant sinner, who was dispensing his melted ambrosia at least ten heads upwards, away from the unfortunate supplicant.
Mr Fothergill, however, knew where to look for balm for such wounds, and in a minute or two, Mr Apjohn was employed quite to his heart's content.
"Well," said Frank to his neighbour, "it may be very well once in a way; but I think that on the whole Dr Thorne is right." "My dear Mr Gresham, see the world on all sides," said Mr Athill, who had also been somewhat intent on the gratification of his own appetite, though with an energy less evident than that of the gentleman opposite.

"See the world on all sides if you have an opportunity; and, believe me, a good dinner now and then is a very good thing." "Yes; but I don't like eating it with hogs." "Whish-h! softly, softly, Mr Gresham, or you'll disturb Mr Apjohn's digestion.