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"Come, git up," said Captain Pharo, at the sound, applying the lap of the reins to the horse; "ye've never got us anywheres yet in time to hear 'Amen'! Thar 's no need o' yer shyin' at them spiles, ye darned old fool! Ye hauled 'em thar yourself, yesterday. Poo! poo! Hohum! Wal wal never mind Git up!"
"Mebbe we're a little alike in that respec'," Captain Leezur assured him deliciously; "'cept 't he ain't nigh so ongodly as I use' ter be." "I don' know," said Captain Pharo. "I have worked sometimes, Sundays poo! poo! hohum! but not 'less 'twas somethin' 'mportant, gettin' in hay or somethin' like that. And I have poo! poo! hohum!
I forgot withal that I was lame. "Chipadees sing pretty," said Captain Pharo, drawing a match along the leg of his trousers and lighting his pipe, as we stood amid the song of birds in the lane "but robins is noisy creeturs, always at the same old tune poo! poo! hohum! Wal, wal he paused there, having his pipe well going.
"Now I may h've said some things on partickaler pesterin' 'casions in times past, but in general my verdick hohum! is fav'rable to female grass; 'specially hohum! hohum! wal, wal, ye knows my meanin', major 'specially with regards to red and white clover: hohum! how 's Vesty?"
I was hopin' widders was more definite, but it seems they're jest like all the rest on ye: poo! poo! hohum jest like all the rest on ye." "We've got to find her, cap'n; she sets sech store by talkin' along o' major." "Major!" sniffed the captain; "she ain't worthy to ontie the major's shoe-lockets; they ain't none on 'em worthy, maids, widders none on 'em!"
Wal, wal hauled out my lobster car sometimes Sundays waitin' for the smack hohum!" "Pharo," said Uncle Coffin, holding up his finger, "no more! I know ye. Thar ain't an ongodly bone in yer body 'cept maybe when ye've lost yer pipe an' cussed a little."
"We mustn't forgit the occasion, I s'pose," said Captain Pharo, our general, at length. "Poo! poo! hohum! I s'pose it's about time we was thinkin' o' goin' out to cheer the flag. Forwards, by clam! Poo! poo! hohum! Wal, wal "Sh!" said Mrs. Kobbe, deftly getting audience at his ear.
"Hohum!" began Elder Cossey, with wholly devout intentions "we thank Thee that another week has been wheeled along through the sand, about a foot deep between here and the woods, and over them rotten spiles on the way to the Point, and them four or five jaggedest boulders at the fork o' the woods I wish there needn't be quite so much zigzagging and shuffling in their seats by them 't have come in barefoot afore the Throne o' Grace," said Elder Cossey, suddenly opening his eyes, and indicating the row of sculpins with distinct disfavor.
Now Vesty, even as stiddy as she is, she 's all'as gittin' the women folks crazy over some new patron for a apern, or some new resute for pudd'n' and pie. So," he added, "ef you sh'd come to me, intendin' to splice, all the advice 't I c'd give 'ud be, I don't know widders; poo! poo! hohum! Wal, wal try widders."
"Yes," he continued, "we've been a-straddlin' along through troublements and trialments and afflickaments, hanging out our phiols down by the cold streams o' Babylon, and not gittin' nothin' in 'em, hohum!" Vibrating thus mysteriously, and free and unconfined, between exhortation and prayer, Elder Cossey finally merged into a recital of his own weakness and vileness as a miserable sinner.
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