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Updated: June 23, 2025
Here bes t'ree boxes wid the ship's gold an' papers, I take it; an' a medicine-chest, by the smell o' it; an' an entire case o' brandy, by Garge! Sure, Nick, it bes no wonder he got off his course! Take another suck at the bottle, Nick, an' then get overside wid ye an' pass out these boxes."
I'll be sendin' Bill Brennen wid it, afore sun-up to-morrow." "And who will take it from Witless Bay to St. John's?" asked Flora. "Foxey Garge Hudson, the Queen's own mail-carrier. There bes a post-office in Witless Bay," returned the skipper. "He makes the trip to St. John's once every week in winter-time, bar flurries an' fog, an' maybe twice every week in the summer-time.
"Ay, the Bonaventure," remarked the shipwright, meditatively. "Iss, her be a very purty ship, very purty indeed. What be her exact tonnage, Garge?" "One hundred and twenty-seven," answered George. "Yes," he agreed, "she is a pretty ship in every way, and as good as she is pretty. And fast!
So we goes hover, an' 'e calls for a w'iskey an' soda for isself an' arsts me wot I'd 'ave, so I 'ad the same. An' w'ile we was gettin' it down us, 'e ses to me, "Ah, Garge," 'e ses. "You losed your temper with me yesterday," 'e ses. 'There you are, you see! said the tall man. 'There's an example for yer!
She drew closer, and touching the old fisherman on the shoulder, called out at his ear: 'What is it? He answered without turning, keeping his eyes fixed: 'I say it's a man swimmin'. Joe and Garge here say as it's only a piece o' wood or sea-wrack. But I know I'm right.
But Garge have got the fiend's own gift for tongues and languages, and the night avore we sailed he happened to be ashore lookin' round Santander, and while he were standin' on one side of a pillar in a church he heard two Spanishers on t'other side of that there same pillar talkin' about the embargo that King Philip was goin' to declare again' the English at midnight that very night as ever was.
He was able to make out that they had reached the highest elevation of the moors the cross-roads from where Inspector Dawfield had shown him Flint House in the distance that afternoon. He could just discern the outlines of the wayside cross and the old Druidical monolith, both pointing to the silent heavens in unwonted religious amity. "Good ebenen', Garge."
"Well, Garge, my son, so you'm safe whoam again," exclaimed the old shipbuilder, rising to his feet with outstretched hand, as young Saint Leger entered the room. "My word!" he continued, allowing his gaze to rove over the lad's stalwart frame, "but you'm growed into a reg'lar strapper, and no mistake; a reg'lar young Goliath of Gath a be, no less.
They say that I am much too young to be entrusted with the responsibility of heading such an adventure." "Too young be danged!" exclaimed Radlett with energy. "They don't know 'e as well as I do, Garge, or they wouldn't talk like thicky.
Gilbert was busy getting wood and preparing the breakfast. Soon I heard him at the door of the men's tent saying, "All aboard." "Any mosquitoes this morning, Gilbert?" "Not a one. Too cold. By Garge, but it's cold this morning! I went down to the lake and tried to wash, but I had to l'ave off. It was too cold." Shortly I heard them at the fire.
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