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"Joseph," she said, planting herself opposite to him, and speaking with alarming solemnity, "we've a-been wed now farty year come Lady Day. Have I bin a good wife to 'ee, or have I not?" "Why, in course," Joseph was beginning, when he suddenly broke off. "What's the new colt standing in the cart-shed for?" "Never you mind the new colt attend to I! Have I been a good wife to 'ee, or have I not?"
"Then heaven help you never may, sir. I'd liefer fight a gun in the waist through farty Fleet-actions, than see one man go through that wouldn't you, Abe?" "Ay, that I would," grumbled the deep voice. "Ah; and so'd we all," came a windy chorus. There was a stamping of feet: then the story-teller went on, "I stood by the gang-way when he came up the side, a blanket across his shoulders.
"The clock!" exclaimed Susan, with an indignant start, "why that there clock have hung over chimney-piece for nigh upon farty year! That clock didn't belong to Abel!" "That clock," said Jenny with mild firmness, "did belong to my poor Abel's father, and 'twas his by rights; he've a-left it to me wi' the rest of his things, and I shall value it for his sake.
The contrast revolted the lad. The table on which he sat began to rattle. Quietly he slipped off it. But the old foretop-man had heard. Leaving his post, he came rumbling across the uneven flags. "The waitin time's generally always the worst time, sir," he whispered. "Sooner farty actions than wait for one I've hard Lard Nelson say it himsalf."
Bowling out on the top of the tide came a lugger, the foam at her foot. She was black in the moon, and barely a cable's length away. "That her?" asked the gruff voice of the old Commander. "That's the Kite, sir," answered Reuben. "Know her luff anywheres. Foots it like a witch, and handles like a lady. A boy could sail her; and she'll carry farty at a pinch."
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