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Yet this terrible monster in himself seemed concerned about nothing but self. It seemed a sort of devil always tempting him to eat of forbidden fruit. Lovely fruit, too. There was Agnes, for instance: Agnes, a mere girl, with a pigtail down her back, daughter of the fishman on Third Avenue. His mother held Agnes in horror. That her son should be in love with a fishman's daughter!
The native denomination of a Krooman is Kroo, and that of a Fishman Krepo, and they have distinguishing marks for their respective countries tattooed on their face. From the difficulty which exists in ascertaining their own names, they always add some English word as a personal designation.
The mate returned on board, in a violent rage, and sent a sailor to catch a Fishman, on whom to take vengeance. But the man caught a Tartar, and was himself taken ashore as prisoner. The mate and cook then went out in a boat, and were attacked by a war-canoe, the men in which harpooned the cook, and stripping the mate naked, threw him overboard.
Then her attention was attracted by a man stopping at the gate and bidding her good-morning. He was the fishman from Polk Street, extremely excited, his greeting followed by a voluble description of how he had escaped from a collapsing building in his undershirt. Aunt Ellen swapped experiences with him, and pointed to the chimney, which if it had fallen inward would have killed her.
He slumped into the chair again, at the table.... The wind blew strongly, and he knew just how the grey street looked with its spots of yellow sparkling lamplight; its shadows, its glowing windows.... He knew the smell of the fish-shop, the strange raw sea-smell, the sight of glittering iridescent scales, the beauty of lean curved fishes, the red of broiled lobsters, the pink-cheeked swarthy fishman, the dark loveliness of Agnes.... He had written to Agnes.
The fishman, moving to go, looked dubious. "Yes, we got a grand department, no one denies that. But the Mission's mostly wood and there's quite some wind. It looks pretty serious to me." He passed on and Lorry went to the gate. "Where are you going now?" Aunt Ellen cried. "Out," said Lorry, clicking up the hasp. "I want to see what's going on. I'll be back in an hour or two.
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