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"'What d'ye stand on? he'd say to the mate arter screwin' his eye to the glass and tryin' to make it out; and when the mate would tell him, he'd say, 'I believe that agrees with me; just take a squint at my instrument; my eyesight ain't just as good as it used for to be, and I don't quite make it out. Then the mate would read him off his instrument, and arter he'd made it eight bells he'd go down and work it up and prick her off.
"Oh!" says Woodie, screwin' up one corner of his mouth and tippin' me the wink. I knew if I got a look at Vee I'd have to haw-haw; so I backs around with one hand behind me and we swaps a finger squeeze. Then Aunty jumps in with the quick shift. She asks him patronizin' if he finds the grocery business int'restin'. He admits that he does. "How odd!" says Aunty.
"How long ago did you cast him out?" Bob asked with a chuckle. "Oh, somethin' over a week or ten days ago," was the reply. "I thought he might have made some progress by now. But I ain't given up hope of him yet. He's been sorter quiet the last two times I've seen him, an' I figger he's mullin' things over, an' mebbe screwin' up his courage." The room was still save for the purr of the plane.
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