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Updated: May 23, 2025
Kobbe and Miss Pray took out their knitting, with the implicit Basin superstition of "knitting up a breeze." They as seriously advised me to "scratch the mast and whistle," which, agreeably, I began to do. Thus occupied, I saw a sudden light break over the captain's face, as sighting something on the waves.
At the inn the most conspicuous object in the reception-room was a sink of water, with basins for ablutions. Captain Pharo waited, visibly holding the leash on his impatience, for a "runner" or travelling salesman to complete his bath, when he plunged in gleefully, face and hands. Mrs. Kobbe drew him away with dismay.
The old frayed shawl is grander than any ermine, and the goddess' chest is erect and broad; the winter will not kill her but I have gazed sadly in the mirror, and I go often to Captain Leezur. "If there 's any fun going on," frankly admits Mrs. Kobbe, "you'll all'as find me up an' dressed!"
They led me to the sofa, and Mrs. Kobbe came and combed out her hair pretty, long, woman's hair in the looking-glass, over me; and then Captain Pharo came and parted his hair down the back and brushed it out rakishly both sides, over me. Usually I saw the children dressed; they were at school.
Kobbe, as we set forth, "Miss Lester said not to come to her house for her, but wherever we saw the circle-basket settin' outside the door, there she'd be." "I wish she'd made some different 'pointment," said the captain, with a sigh. "Why?" "Why! don't it strike ye, woman, 't they 's nothin' ondefinite 'n pokin' around over the 'nhabited 'arth, lookin' for the Widder Lester's circle-basket?
"Wal, thar, Cap'n Pharo Kobbe, seems to me I wouldn't say nothin' 'g'inst Providence nor nobody else, for once, ef I'd jest got two dollars' worth o' meal, jest for pickin' it up off'n the road." Touched by this view of the case, the captain sang with great cheerfulness that his days were as the grass or as the morning flower when an inspiration struck him.
But he winked at me with daring inconsequence. In vain Mrs. Kobbe tried to flay out those locks to their former attitude with the hotel brush and comb, which the runner had finally abandoned. "Poo! poo! woman, never mind," said the captain; "one side 's fa'r to wind'ard, anyhow. I can have a profiler took, jest showin' one side on me, ye know." "I didn't want a profiler," lamented Mrs.
His mortal conversation, too, though cutting and profound, was, in the deepest sense, without rancor or emotion. "'S I sums it up," said he, "yer road down through the woods 's gittin' more ridick'lous 'n ever." "Poo! poo! Wouldn't be afraid to bet ye she ain't," said Captain Pharo Kobbe, with glowing pipe.
Kobbe's cough of deeper warning and high-mounting blushes on his account nerved him. "We've h'isted of 'er," he shouted with desperate defiance, "and thar she blows, don't she, by clam! on the full, the free, the glorious, an' the ever-lastin' h'ist!" A sturdy round of applause was not wanting, but on this point Mrs. Kobbe was visibly sceptical: she received her lord with sniffs of disdain.
Captain Pharo and I, standing by the wood-box, nudged each other with delight over this conceit. "'Forced-to-go never gets far, you know," said I. "'Forced-to-go," began Captain Pharo, but was rudely haled away by Mrs. Pharo Kobbe, to dress. That was another thing; apparently they could never get me to the house early enough, pleased that I should witness all their preparations.
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