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Updated: June 12, 2025
The front entry wa'n't very light in the daytime, and in the storm, come five o'clock, it was so dark that all you could see was jest a gleam o' some-thin', and two or three times when she started to go up stairs she see a soft white suthin' that seemed goin' up before her, and she stopped with her heart a beatin' like a trip-hammer, and she sort o' saw it go up and along the entry to the cap'n's door, and then it seemed to go right through, 'cause the door didn't open.
Then my kind friend went into another room; and that's the last I ever saw of him. I couldn't find him, but I did find that the check was good for nothing. I hadn't a dollar left. At one of the piers I came across a schooner that wanted a cook, and I shipped right off. Then the cap'n's nephew wanted to cook for him, after we got to Bangor, and I was out of a job.
We've got to run this till we can sell it, wimmen or no wimmen and you hadn't ought to be a quitter with thutty-five hunderd in it." But there was very little enthusiasm or determination in the Cap'n's face. The sullenness deepened there when he saw a vehicle turn in at the tavern yard. It was a red van on runners, and on its side was inscribed: T. BRACKETT, TINWARE AND YANKEE NOTIONS.
That is, the goat the cap'n's kiddin' I mean the goat that's kiddin' the cap the skiddin' she-goat Aw, rats! ye know what I'm drivin' at. Me tongue so dry it don't work right." Wherewith Tim retreated in disorder to his room and began wrestling with his new hammock and the iron hooks. Swift darkness filled the rooms. The sun had slid down below the bulge of the fast-rolling world.
The Cap'n's pipe clouds curled about his head, and his hands were stuffed comfortably into his trousers pockets. His face beamed. "Some might think to hear you talk that you was a soft old fool that had gone love-cracked 'cause a woman jest as soft as you be has showed you some attention," choked the Colonel. "But I know what you're hidin' under your innocent-Abigail style.
"Guess the old cap'n's back, 'less Glory never 'd look that gay," thought Meg, and promptly reported her thought to Posy Jane who was just setting out for her day's business. She was already over-late and was glad to accept Meg's statement as fact and thus save the time it would have taken to visit the littlest house and learn there how matters really stood.
"Thought yesterday was your sailing day." "So it was, but Cap'n's in the calaboose. Got drunk yest'd'y and had a fight. I got ter raise th' cash ter git him out." "Why don't the boss bounce him? He's drunk most of the time." "Boss says Cap'n Tom's a better sailor when he's drunk than any of th' others when they're sober." "Well, I'll get Tom out of limbo for you and charge it to the boss.
At last, in desperation, Gaff gave Billy a poke in the ribs which roused him. "Come, boy," said his father almost sternly, "you've slept long enough now; get up an' steer. Don't you see the cap'n's pullin' all alone!" "All right, daddy," said Billy, uttering a loud yawn and stretching himself. "Where am I? Oh! oh!"
Cap'n, put that hat and veil back onto him. I'll hold him." Mr. Reeves consented to stand still only after he had received a half-dozen open-handed buffets that made his head ring. "There!" ejaculated Hiram, after the Cap'n's unaccustomed fingers had arranged the head-gear. "Bein' that you're dressed for company, we'll make a few calls. Grab a-holt, Cap'n."
You find some changes in New York, don't you er Captain? You are a captain, or a bos'n, or admiral something of that sort, I presume?" "Malcolm!" said his mother, sharply. "Oh, no offense intended. My sea terms are rather mixed. The captain will excuse me." "Sartin! Cap'n's what they all call me, mostly. Your son ain't ever been to sea, except as passenger, I cal'late, ma'am?"
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