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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Oh, don't talk in these parables," cried Flambeau impatiently. "Can't you put it simply in words of one syllable?" "Yes," answered Brown, with his eye on the hose. "'Both eyes bright, she's all right; one eye blinks, down she sinks."
But beyond that point there was reservation that didn't fit with Cap'n Sproul's calculations. "Blast his old pork rind!" confided the Cap'n to Hiram. "I can circle him round and round the pen easy enough, but when I try to head him through the gate, he just sets back and blinks them hog eyes at me and grunts. To get near him at all I had to act simple, and I reckon I've overdone it.
Christmas, my first Christmas from home; Christmas that might have been any other time of the year for all the difference it made to me, came and went; and the wild, blustering weather of January, with its bursts and blinks of sunshine, its high winds and angry seas, was well upon us.
Blinks, I've found your man," said the doctor, when the paymaster's steward made his appearance. "Well, my fine fellow," said Blinks, turning to the mate, and smiling grimly, "how do you feel by this time? Very pleasant morning, isn't it! I knew I'd catch you, you scoundrel," he exclaimed, suddenly changing his tune; "I'll teach you to steal my pies!"
Denis shifts from one foot to the other, looks at the table with the green cloth on it, and blinks his eyes violently as though what was before him was not the cloth but the sun. The magistrate writes rapidly. "Can I go?" asks Denis after a long silence. "No. I must take you under guard and send you to prison."
We've lighted him a fire. . . You have been giving him drinks too, says Cloete; I never said I would be responsible for drinks. How many? . . . Two, says the other. It's all right. I don't mind doing that much for a shipwrecked sailor. . . Cloete smiles his funny smile: Eh? Come. He paid for them. . . The publican just blinks. . . Gave you gold, didn't he?
The door and windows were securely fastened at sundown, and all attempts to effect an entrance were unavailing. It was also useless to attempt to bribe the cook, for Blinks, who was a strict accountant, always knew how many pies were made every day, and if any of them were missing, the cook was sure to suffer.
"I I don't know what you mean, sir!" said the mate, in surprise. "Don't talk to me, you villain," said Blinks savagely; "didn't you eat a pie last night?" "Yes, sir," answered Jenkins, hesitatingly, "but" "I knew you did, you rascal." "But the pie was given to me, sir," said the mate. "Oh, that story won't do at all. I'll fix you. Go below."
"No; but I have often caught the cook stealing things. I'll report you to the executive officer, and have you punished. Go below." The man sullenly withdrew, and Blinks hurried to the executive officer's room and reported the affair. "Are you sure the steward stole the pies, Mr. Blinks?" inquired the officer; "perhaps some one broke into the galley.
We passed the brown fields where nothing will be planted; passed the small donkeys with their big loads; passed green meadows on a small scale; in places here and there, passed the houses, dark, damp and unwholesome, where these people live. After we had rumbled on for some miles, enjoying blinks of cold sunshine, enduring heavy scudding showers, the landscape began to soften considerably.
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