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Updated: May 4, 2025
"That's a facer," he said at length. "But maybe we can fix her up, too? I'll stand my share." "She was buried the week after Christmas." "Oh?" Bill scratched his head. "Then we can't not very well." "Times an' again I've heard Eli talk of his poor old mother," said Mr. Jope, turning to the Parson.
Budeaux?" "Oh, I'm not goin' to argue with you," said the driver. "I'm goin' home." And he began to turn his horse's head. Mr. Jope sprang out upon the roadway. The driver, with sudden and unexpected agility, dropped off on the other side. "Look here, it's grindin' the faces of the poor!" he pleaded, breathing hard. "It will be," assented Mr. Jope grimly. "I been up all night: at a ball."
Jope shepherded his flock back through the gates and, red-eyed, addressed them while he distributed largess along the line of jarveys. "I thank ye, friends," said he in a muffled voice which at first I attributed to emotion.
"If this is going to last," said the charioteer dreamily, "may I have strength to see the end o't!" I did not catch this prayer, but Mr. Jope reported it to me as he resumed his seat, with an ill-timed laugh. The fellow, who had been gathering up his reins, lurched round suddenly and gazed in through the glass front. "You was sayin'?" he demanded. "Nothing," answered Mr. Jope hastily.
"Eh? . . . What can I do for you?" asked Parson Spettigew, a trifle flustered at being caught napping. " Of the Vesoovius bomb, bo's'n," pursued Mr. Jope, with a smile that disarmed annoyance, so ingenuous it was, so friendly, and withal so respectful: "but paid off at eight this morning. Maybe your Reverence can tell me whereabouts to find an embalmer in these parts?" "A a what?" "Embalmer." Mr.
Benjamin Jope whose good-natured face would have recommended him anywhere walked into the drinking-parlour and rapped on the table. This brought to him the innkeeper's daughter, Miss Elizabeth, twenty years old and comely. "What can I do for you, sir?" she asked. "Two pots o' beer, first-along," said Mr. Jope. "Two?" "I got a shipmate outside." Miss Elizabeth fetched the two pots.
"You must be a pair of very simple men," said landlord Coyne, half-closing his eyes again, "if you reckoned that forty pound would rent a place like this without some drawbacks. Well, the drawbacks is ghosts. Four of 'em, and all females." "Tell us about 'em, sir," requested Mr. Jope, dropping into his seat.
We smuggled the cask ashore last evenin', an' hid it in the woods this side o' Mount Edgcumbe. This mornin' we re-shipped it as you see. We allowed your Reverence would draw the line at that, though we hadn' the pleasure o' knowin' you at the time." "Yes," agreed the Parson, as Mr. Jope paused, "I fear it could not be done without scandal." "That's just how Bill put it.
The tall seaman touched his hat by way of acknowledging the introduction. "But but I only see one!" protested Parson Spettigew. "This here's Bill Adams," said Mr. Jope, and again the tall seaman touched his hat. "Is it Eli you're missin'? He's in the cask." "Oh!" "We'll hoick him up to the store, Bill, if you're ready? It looks a nice cool place.
"You shall drink the same by and by in a dish o' tea; which I reckon will suit ye best this morning," she added eyeing him. "O.P., put on the kettle." Ben Jope winced and attempted to turn the subject. "What's your cargo, this trip?" he asked cheerfully. "I didn't write," she went on, ignoring the question. "O.P. took me so sudden." "Oh, Sarah!" Mr. Pengelly expostulated.
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