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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Cap'n Sproul," said he, "in your seafarin' days didn't you used to hear the sailormen sing this?" and he piped in weak falsetto: "Oh, I've been a ghost on Cod Lead Nubble, Sence I died sence I died. I buried of it deep with a lot of trouble, And the chist it was in was locked up double, And I'm a-watchin' of it still on Cod Lead Nubble, Sence I died sence I died."
But grandsir'll keep her in kindlin's; he likes to set and chop in the shed rainy days, an' he'll do a sight more if you'll set with him, an' let him get goin' on his old seafarin' times." Lydia nodded discreetly. "An', Lyddy, don't you loiter comin' home from school, an' don't play out late, an' get 'em fussy, when it comes cold weather.
"Didn't get down on South Street, did you?" he asked. "No, I thought not. If you had you'd have met plenty. When I was goin' to sea I bet I never went cruisin' down South Street in my life that I didn't run afoul of somebody I wan't expectin' to. Greatest place for meetin' folks in the world, I cal'late South Street is. Lots of seafarin' men have told me so."
"An' he's been a great reader all his seafarin' days. Some thinks he overdid, and affected his head, but for a man o' his years he's amazin' now when he's at his best. Oh, he used to be a beautiful man!"
"O, ony a rope or two," said Captain Corbet; and taking a coil of rope over his arm, he stepped ashore, and all the boys hurried after him. "I feel kine o' safer with a kile o' rope, bein a seafarin man," he remarked. "Give a seafarin man a rope, an he'll go anywhar an do anythin. He's like a spider onto a web." Tom ashore. Storm at Night. Up in the Morning. The Cliffs and the Beach.
An people that think it's French, or Injine, or Greek, or Hebrew, or any other outlandish tongue, don't know what they're talkin about. Now, I KNOW, an I assure you what I've ben a sayin's the gospel terewth, for I had it of an old seafarin man that's sailed this bay for more'n forty year, an if he ain't good authority, then I'd like to know who is that's all."
"I was thinking of resigning this job," returned the Cap'n; "it was not stirrin' enough for a seafarin' man; but I'm sort of gittin' int'rested. How much will ye take for your bridge?" But the director curtly refused to sell. "All right, then," said the skipper, chocking his axe viciously into a sapling birch and leaving it there, "I'll fill away on another tack."
'Twas in January, a fine clear day, and I said, all right, I'd send my oldest boy down and look at her. My oldest boy but you know him? Aye, a grand lad. Both grand lads. Modelled off their mother, the pair of them. If I'd only a daughter like her ... the woman she was! A wife for a seafarin' man.
And if you was to ask me I'd say she wasn't layin' there for any good purpose." "What do you think she's up to? What makes you suspicious of her?" "No, sir, she wasn't towed in," said Cap'n Abernethy, "or I'd 'a' heard a tug towin' her. Comin' of a seafarin' fambly I'm a light sleeper by nature." Cleggett finished dressing and went on deck.
"Oh, Aaron," sobbed his wife, and continued to moan. "Oh, Aaron " with soft, heartbreaking cluckings. "Once the law of land-piruts gets a bight 'round ye, ye never git away from it," groaned the Cap'n. "The law sharks is always waitin' for seafarin' men. There ain't no hope for me." His wife had no encouragement to offer. "Murder will out, Aaron," she quaked. "And they've sent three constables."
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