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"Yes, Mack, that sure was a ringer," continued the Captain as he helped himself to another layer of waffles. "Wonder if Clemmie took what you said about launching out as literal?" Miss Pipkin returned with a plate of smoking waffles and placed them at the Captain's side. "Thanks, Clemmie.
Then, too," came in an awed tone, "he ain't orthodox. He's preaching all sorts of new-fangled ideas that he shouldn't mention in the pulpit, and though you don't know it, Josiah, that is hairsay! That is worse than killing a man, because it sends their souls to hell." "If I was you, Clemmie, I'd wait and judge his preaching for myself. You ain't heard him yet."
You'd better have showed him the door like you told me you did Harry Beaver." "It wa'n't his fault, Clemmie. He was real sorry. He was just doing his duty. He offered to buy the place after I'd showed him about. What he said he'd give wa'n't what it's wuth by a heap, but it would pay Jim off and leave me a mite." "Offered to buy it, did he? Well, you didn't tell him you'd sell, did you?"
After Glasgow I went to dear Clemmie Waring's, at Lennel, and found her house full of convalescent officers, and she herself very happy with them and her new baby. I really wanted to rest, and meant to enjoy five days of repose; but I gave a lecture the first night, and then had a sort of breakdown and took to my bed.
"Ain't you going to let me dry them dishes for you?" "Of course not." The door was closed, and the Captain came back to the sink. "What's wrong with Mr. McGowan?" "Too much red pepper, I cal'late." "Don't be silly. You know what I mean. There is something awfully wrong. I can't help noticing it." "What makes you think that, Clemmie?"
"Will you marry me, honest, Clemmie?" "Yes. You see, I kind of wanted to hear myself say it, because I'd made up my mind that way." An exclamation from the kitchen interrupted what the seaman was doing. The minister had retired thither to clear the mist from his eyes which had gathered there at signs of spring-time in the fall of these dear old lives.
The minister placed a chair before the grate and slid another near. For some time the two men sat looking into the fire. As Mr. McGowan tossed in another stick of wood, he turned toward the seaman. "I did not know that you had a brother by the name of Adoniah," he said. "It ain't often I make mention of him. I wa'n't over fond of him. He didn't treat Clemmie fair.
A slight twinkle in his eyes offset the assumed severity of his command. The door opened and Mr. McGowan stood on the threshold. Miss Pipkin stared from the one to the other. "Be the both of you clean crazy?" she demanded, as the men grinned rather foolishly at each other. "No, Clemmie. We've just woke up to our senses, that's all." "If you think this a good joke, "
She was carrying a large crock. The seaman looked intently at the bowl. "There was a mite too much pepper in that basin, Josiah. I was that excited about his ankle that I didn't notice how much I was putting in. It'll soon be better, now, for I was bathing it in this cream that Mrs. Beaver give me." "Bathing his foot in what?" "Cream. It takes the soreness out." "Clemmie, you're a wonder!
"You mean you two knowed each other before you come here?" "You see, Mack come to me one summer when I was starting on a cruise, and he was such a good sailor that we spent four seasons together after that." "You never told me that," said Miss Pipkin. "I didn't think to, Clemmie. Mack, have some more of these waffles. They're mighty tasty. It takes Clemmie to cook 'em to a turn."
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