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Updated: June 18, 2025
There, however, his conduct had been so peculiar among other things sending down the watch to put on Sunday rig against a possible hail by the Lord that, after a long consultation with Mr. Patterson, the second mate and the boatswain, and a brief announcement to the crew, he, Jeremy Ammidon, had taken command in their interest and that of the owner. Barzil had made difficulties: Mr.
Met Captain Rendell on Essex Street and he said Barzil had lung fever. Thought I'd see if there was any truth in it." "He just managed to stay alive," Kate Vollar replied, gazing at him with her stilled gray eyes. "But he's better now, though he's not up and about yet. Shall I tell him that that you are here?" "Yes. Just say Jeremy Ammidon's below, and would like to pass a greeting with him."
At the same time Nettie Vollar was surprisingly near, actual he could see every line and shading of her vivid face; he felt the warm impact of her instant sympathy. He had caught a glimpse of Barzil Dunsack at the funeral; but the other was immediately hidden by the crowd, and Gerrit had been unable to discover whether his son and daughter or Nettie had accompanied him.
Then there was Kate's trouble. Barzil was a rigorously moral and religious man and his pain at that last must have been heavy. Jeremy Ammidon's mind turned to Gerrit, his son; this interest in Nettie Vollar, if it had existed, was characteristic of the boy, who had a quick heart and an honest disdain for the muddling narrow ways of the land.
They were returning, in the general direction of Derby Wharf, when Jeremy Ammidon met a companion of past days at sea, and stopped for the inevitable conversational exchange. The latter, who had such a great spreading beard that Laurel couldn't determine whether or not he wore a neck scarf, said: "Barzil Dunsack all but died." "Ha!" the other exclaimed.
It was a prayer for which Barzil Dunsack would have had nothing but condemnation: she implored the dark, the mystery of Augustness, for carnal and light things, yes for waltzes and quadrilles and songs and pleasure, young pleasure, all the aching desires of her health and spirit and nature and years; but most for love.
Naturally she was rather cheerful than somber, an involuntary gayety rose from her in the drabbest moments; she even defied Barzil Dunsack with ribbons and flowers on her bonnet.
Used him near all up." Laurel saw that her grandfather was frowning heavily and silently moving his lips. The other left them standing and her companion brought his cane down sharply. "Boy and boy," he said. "Barzil was a good man... looking old. So am I, so am I. Feet almost useless. Laurel," he addressed her, "I want you to go right on home.
A sound of frying and heavy odor came from the kitchen, and Kate Vollar's voice informed them that the meal was ready. Barzil Dunsack bowed his head over the table and pronounced a grace in startlingly resonant tones, the reverent humility of his words oddly emphasized by a sort of angry impatience.
I'll tell you this, too I'd hate to ship afore the mast under you for all you'd have the ensign on the booby hatch with prayers read Sunday morning. I don't wonder you got into weather; I'd have no word for a Creator who didn't blow in your eye." "I'll listen to no blasphemy, Captain Ammidon," Barzil Dunsack said sternly.
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