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"Oh, never fear; I shall teach you all you want to know before I die," I replied. "Don't be too sure of that," replied Mary; "how do you know how much I may wish to have of your company?" "Well, if I walk off in a hurry, I'll make you over to young Tom Beazeley. You're half in love with him already, you know," replied I, laughing.
The name of the father was Tom Beazeley, but he was always known on the river as "old Tom" or, as some more learned wag had christened him, "the Merman on two sticks." As soon as we had put our traps on board, as old Tom called them, he received his orders, and we cast off from the wharf. The wind was favourable. Young Tom was as active as a monkey, and as full of tricks.
"Tom, Tom, you good-for-nothing why don't you let my net alone?" cried Mrs Beazeley; "now 'twill take me as much time to undo ten stitches as to have made fifty." "All right, mother." "No, Tom, all's wrong; look at these meshes?" "Well, then, all's fair, mother." "No, all's foul, boy; look how it's tangled."
"Beazeley children?" I repeated wonderingly. "Yes; them two little ones, the size of Mirandy; they're Beazeley's." "Who is Beazeley, and what are his children doing here?" "Beazeley up and died at the mill, and she bedevilled her father to let her take his two young 'uns here." "You don't mean to say that with her other work she's taking care of other people's children too?"
I landed and went to the house, opened the door, and found them both sitting by the kitchen fire in silence, apparently occupied in watching the smoke as it ascended up the spacious chimney. "Good morning to you both," said I; "how do you find yourself, Mrs Beazeley?" "Ah, deary me!" replied the old woman, putting her apron up to her eyes.
"That's one of them, depend upon it," said the captain. "Up there, Mr Wilson, and see what you make of her. Who is the man who reported it?" "Tom Beazeley, sir." "Confound that fellow, he makes all my ship's company jump overboard, and now I must give him five guineas. What do you make of her, Mr Wilson?" "A low schooner, sir, very rakish indeed, black sides.
Tom has a head," said Mrs Beazeley, fondly. "Tom, let go my net again, will you? What a boy you are! Now touch it again if you dare," and Mrs Beazeley took up a little poker from the fire-place and shook it at him. "Tom has a head, indeed," said young Tom, "but as he has no wish to have it broken, Jacob, lend me your wherry for half-an-hour, and I'll be off."
The old woman screwed up her mouth, shook her head, and then walked away to prepare for dinner. "I think she could muster the blunt, Jacob, but she don't like to part with it. Tom must coax her. I wish he hadn't shied the cat at her. He's too full of fun." As old Beazeley finished, I perceived a wherry pulling in with some ladies. I looked attentively, and recognised my own boat, and Tom pulling.
Mrs Beazeley sprang from her chair and seized me by the other arm. "I see I see by your face. Yes, Jacob, he is pardoned; and we shall have our Tom again." "You are right, Mrs Beazeley; he is pardoned, and will soon be here." The old couple sank down on their knees beside me. I left them, and beckoned from the door to Tom, who flew up, and in a moment was in their arms.
Mrs Beazeley, who had lost her husband soon after marriage, was not fond of children, as they interfered with her habits of extreme neatness. As far as Amber's education was concerned, all we can say is, that if the old housekeeper did her no good, she certainly did her no harm.
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