United States or Cuba ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
What in blazes should I go to see him for?" "Well well, he wants you to, you know. He wants to talk with you about the the boy." "Humph!" "It's her boy, Zelotes." "Humph! Young Portygee!" "Don't, Zelotes! Please! . . . I know you can't forgive that that man. We can't either of us forgive him; but " The captain stopped in his stride. "Forgive him!" he repeated. "Mother, don't talk like a fool.
"I ain't any hand to make love to Portygee sailors," he cried; "I don't believe I could stand it to hold one on my knee more'n half an hour at a time. I don't like a dude. I hate a land-pirut lawyer. But a critter I've al'ays reckoned I'd kill on sight is a grown man that writes portry and lets his folks support him. I've heard of that Concert whatever his name is Tate.
Sheila rode with Prudence on the rear seat of the carryall. "I'm berthed on the for'ard deck along o' you, Tunis," said the old man, hoisting himself with difficulty into the front seat. "If the afterguard is all ready, I be. Trip the anchor, boy, and set sail!" As they passed down through Portygee Town the denizens of that part of Big Wreck Cove were streaming to their own place of worship.
"I'd have killed a Portygee for sayin' a quarter as much. I'd have killed him for settin' foot abaft the gratin' killed him before he opened his mouth." "We ain't Portygees," rejoined Denslow, stubbornly. "We ain't no sailors." "Nor I ain't liar enough to call you sailors," the Cap'n cried, in scornful fury.
Half an hour later the anchor was dropped fifty yards off Portygee Town. Captain Tunis ordered the gig lowered to take him ashore and, after giving the mate some instructions regarding stowage and the men's shore leave, he was rowed over to Luiz Wharf. 'Rion Latham, a red-headed, pimply faced young man, sidled up to Horace Newbegin.
They would open in a day or two, now, when Mother had finished the livid chintz window-curtains. The service-room was already crammed with chairs and tables till it resembled a furniture-store. A maid was established, a Cape Verde Portygee girl from Mashpee.
"It sounds almighty complicated for a plot," said the Cap'n. In his heart he resented Hiram's masterfulness and his secretiveness. "This ain't no timber-land deal," retorted Hiram, smartly, and with cutting sarcasm. "You may know how to sail a ship and lick Portygee sailors, but there's some things that you can afford to take advice in."
"His mother says Tony is scared to sail again with the Seamew. Some Portygee foolishness." "I told you them Portygees warn't worth the grease they sop their bread in," declared Cap'n Ira. The two on the rear seat of the carryall paid no attention to this conversation. "I'm real pleased," said the old woman, "that you are going to dinner with Lucretia Latham, Ida May.
Now, older, his judgment of his parent was not as lenient, was clearer, more discerning. He understood now. Was his own "Portygee streak," his inherited temperament, responsible for his leaving one girl on a Tuesday and on Friday finding his thoughts concerned so deeply with another? Well, no matter, no matter. One thing was certain Helen should never know of that feeling.
"Some Portygee foolishness," grumbled the mate. "I wonder," muttered Tunis. "You wonder if it's so?" queried the mate. "You know how silly these people are once they get a crazy notion in their heads." "What's the crazy notion, Mr. Chapin?" The mate flung up his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "A haunt a jinx something. The Lord knows!"
Word Of The Day