Then the cook baked a broad, flat, wheaten cake, greased it well with the sausage, and started towards us with it.

It dropped in the dirt, and he picked it up and polished it on his breeches, and laid it before us.

Jack said, "I pass." We all passed.

He put some eggs in a frying pan, and stood pensively prying slabs of meat from between his teeth with a fork.

Then he used the fork to turn the eggs with--and brought them along.