"A queer place," muttered the mad skipper in a soft voice to himself, as he moved about the room, poked up the fire, and made preparations for spending the night. "Gaff wouldn't know the old cabin humph! but it's all done out o' kindness; well, well, there's no accountin' for women, they're paridoxies. Hallo! this here closet didn't use to be bolted, but it's bolted now.

"It's a pretty place you live in here, Tot, an' a nice house. It's there the lady lives, I suppose who has the strange fancy to keep her wealth in a box on the sideboard? Well, it is curious, but there's no accountin' for the fancies o' the rich, Tot. An' you say she keeps no men-servants about her? Well, that's wise, for men are dangerous characters for women to 'ave about 'em. She's quite right.

"Wall," she said, "it's called ther 'hit-er-miss' pattren; but it's 'hit' oftener'n 'tis 'miss. Thar ain't enny accountin' fur ther way ther breadths'll come, sometimes; 'pears like 't wuz kind er magic, when they air sewed tergether; 'n' I allow thet's ther way it's gwine ter be with heaps er things in this life.

"There's got to be some accountin' fur this claptraption," retorted he, a suggestion of crispness in his tone. "I shan't stir foot from this spot 'til I find out what's set it to actin' up this way." Zenas Henry laughed at the declaration of war echoing in the words. "I've given up flyin' all to flinders over everything that gets out of gear," he drawled.

"It's pleasure ye call it; then there's no accountin' for tastes, as Dr. Colles said, when he saw me bite Cusack Rooney's thumb off." "Bite a man's thumb off!" said I, in a horror. "Ay," said he with a kind of fiendish animation, "in one chop; I wish you'd see how I scattered the consultation; begad they didn't wait to ax for a fee."

"It's the happlication of science, I suppose?" sneered Huish. "I don't know what it is," cried Davis, pacing the floor; "it's there! I draw the line at it. I can't put a finger to no such piggishness. It's too damned hateful!" "And I suppose it's all your fancy pynted it," said Huish, "w'en you take a pistol and a bit o' lead, and copse a man's brains all over him? No accountin' for tystes."

I'm sure I don't see why they want to lounge out thar in all that smoke, but thar's no accountin' for the taste of a man that ever I heard tell of an' I reckon they kin fancy pretty easy that they are settin' plum in the bowl of a pipe. It beats me, though, that it do. Why, one mouthful of it is enough to start me coughin' for a week, an' those men thar jest swallow it down for pure pleasure."

"No," she replied, "I didn't mind them, quite the reverse. I came here because of them." "Because of them!" "Yes. They were company." "Meaning " "Friends." "Y'mean to say friends did you call them? Well, I don't know, there's no accountin'." He hung in irons. So she had been keeping company with the sea cows and she talked of them as "friends."

No accountin' for tastes, as the fellow said! Can you understand it yourself, sir?" "I think I can," was my reply; "let us hurry on," and in a few minutes we were at Issie's house. Little Issie had long since snuggled down in her own separate place in my heart; she was indeed a favourite with all who knew her but I saw as I stepped into the room that God loved her best of all.

"It's pleasure ye call it; then there's no accountin' for tastes, as Dr. Colles said, when he saw me bite Cusack Rooney's thumb off." "Bite a man's thumb off!" said I, in a horror. "Ay," said he with a kind of fiendish animation, "in one chop; I wish you'd see how I scattered the consultation; begad they didn't wait to ax for a fee."