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Updated: May 26, 2025
I was glad to hear that; a tune in undertone, like waves slowly, softly breaking. "She used ter play fifteen different tunes when we first had her," said Captain Pharo pensively; "but she got to squeakin', an' so we had Leezur up to ile 'er, an' ever sence she 's played one tune fifteen times! Poo! poo! hohum! Wal, wal Shouldn't care so much, though, ef 'twas only 'The Wracker's Darter.
"I've threatened a good many times to overhaul her myself, but I ain't no knowledge o' instermental music, and I s'pose I might spend a week on 'er, and not combine 'er insides up to playin' no 'Wracker's Darter, arter all. Hohum! At each successive pause the organs of the music-box wheezed, struggled, almost faintly let go of life, then began again the undertone, of waves softly breaking.
"Give me sea-room here, give me sea-room," said the hero; "and jest wait till I git my spavins warmed up a little!" A wide, clear swath was cut from the billows that surrounded Captain Pharo. "Now then," said he, pulling his pipe from his pocket, and drawing a match in the usual informal way; "Poo! poo! hohum! strike up somethin' lively over there, Gurd. Give us 'The Wracker's Darter, by clam!"
Mother Nolan wagged her gray head and returned her gaze to the red draft of the stove. "'Twas grand wine," she muttered. "Wracker's wine! Dead man's wine!" "Nay, Granny, there ye bes wrong. Not a lad aboard her was killed nor drownded." "Then how come ye by the gold an' diamonds, Denny?" The skipper laughed. "Sure, Granny, I tricked 'em!" he exclaimed.
"No, ye can't dance 'The Wracker's Darter, that is, not as she orter be danced, in felts," said Captain Pharo; "she 's a tune 't wants the emphasis brought right down onto her; felts won't do it, nor scuffs neither."
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