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"Well, dey er yer," he continued, "but dis ain't no climate whar de rice-birds flies inter yo' pockets en gits out de money an' makes de change derse'f; an' de isters don't shuck off der shells en run over you on de street, an' no mo' duz de s'imp hull derse'f an' drap in yo' mouf. But dey er yer, dough. De scads 'll fetch um."
Why, Cap'n, that ain't no word t' tack ont' Janet. Modils ain't moral or decint. I learned that in th' city from a painter-chap as use t' come in t' the shop an' eat isters when he could afford it." Billy's face lengthened. "'T is 'mong friends I speak?" Billy dropped his voice. Both men nodded. "Well, Janet is a modil t' some of them dirty-aproned women painters!
"Janet," he said, "I'll fetch a mess of somethin' from the Station an' we'll take it together. You lay out the table same as ye use t'. Ye might happen t' like t' fry up some isters. I've had oncommon luck; an' ye allus sot considerable store by the first isters." "The very thought of them makes me hungry! Hurry, Cap'n Daddy; I want you right close!"
The surpriser was taken by surprise. "My Cap'n!" Janet rushed to him and flung her arms about him. "Hold there!" he cried, "I'm all over isters, Janet; isters an' eelgrass an' water!" "Never mind, Cap'n Daddy, you are you! I am never going to leave you. I've come home!" In her raptures she had shaken Billy's hat off, and now stooped to pick it up.
"I vum!" he went on presently, "while I was down t' the city, what with poor food an' not 'nough of it, an' homesickness fit t' kill, I thought I seed my course clear. I had a job openin' isters; an' I worked, I kin tell you! 'Bout all the city folks eat isters an' I seed a good bit of life down at my shop, an' I learned city ways an' badness!
"Looks like it might be a good crab season," he muttered, "an' I hope t' gum! the city folks won't trifle with the isters out o' season. 'Brightly gleams our Father's mercy, From His lighthouse evermore; But to us " puff, pant, groan! "'He gives the keepin' of the lights alon' the shore!" David had reached the Light! He always timed himself to the moment.
That's how ragged Pat Rafferty went down to San Francisco yesterday in store-clothes, and his wife and four children went off in a kerridge to Sacramento. Thet's why them ten workmen of his, ez hadn't a cent to bless themselves with, was playin' billiards last night, and eatin' isters.
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