The men were dipping their bread into heaps of salt scattered over the dirty tables.

I attempted the same, but the bread seemed to stick in my mouth, and I remembered the words of the Carpenter, "You need a pint of water to eat the bread nicely." I went over into a dark corner where I had observed other men going and found the water.

Then I returned and attacked the skilly.

It was coarse of texture, unseasoned, gross, and bitter.

This bitterness which lingered persistently in the mouth after the skilly had passed on, I found especially repulsive.