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Updated: June 20, 2025
John and Deborah Popplewell were accustomed to water in small supplies, such as that of a well, or a road-side pond, or their own old noble tan-pits; but to understand the sea it was too late in life, though it pleased them, and gave them fine appetites now to go down when it was perfectly calm, and a sailor assured them that the tide was mild.
Popplewell with shrieks and screams enough to prevent the whole Preventive Service the free-trader kissed his hand to Mary, and was lost through the bushes, and away into the dark. "I tell you, Captain Anerley, that she knocked me down.
So it was resolved between them both that the girl should go on the following day for a visit to her uncle Popplewell, some miles the other side of Filey. No invitation was required; for Mr. and Mrs. Popplewell, a snug and comfortable pair, were only too glad to have their niece, and had often wanted to have her altogether; but the farmer would never hear of that.
While his thoughts were such, or scarcely any better, his partner in life came down the walk, with a heap of little things which she thought needful for the preservation of the tanner, and she waddled a little and turned her toes out, for she as well was roundish. "Ah, you ought to have Sue. Where is Sue?" said Master Popplewell.
Instead of being happy, Master Popplewell lost more flesh in a month than he used to lay on in the most prosperous year; and he owed it to his wife, no doubt, as generally happens, that he was not speedily gathered to the bosom of the hospitable Simon of Joppa. For Mrs.
She hath been a good lass, and hath borne with me better than one in a thousand would have done. Mary, my love to you; and with leave all round, here's the very good health of Robin Lyth!" "Here's the health of Robin Lyth!" shouted Mr. Popplewell, with his fat cheeks shining merrily. "Hurrah for the lad who saved Nelson's death from a Frenchman's grins, and saved our Jack boy!
"Now come you in out of the way of the wind, Debby; you know how your back-sinew ached with the darning before last wash." Mrs. Popplewell grumbled, but obeyed; for she saw that her lord had his reasons. So Mary and Robin were left outside, quite as if they were nothing to any but themselves.
And we have never repented it, you know." "Never as long as I live shall I forget that day," said Popplewell; "they sent me home a suit of clothes as were made for kidney-bean sticks. I did want to look nice at church, and crack, crack, crack they went, and out came all the lining. Debby, I had good legs in those days, and could crunch down bark like brewers' grains."
But in spite of all these indications, Robin Lyth stuck to himself, which is the right way to get credit for sticking. "Johnny, my dear," said Deborah Popplewell to her valued husband, just about the time when bold Carroway was getting hot and sore upon the Filey Road, yet steadily enlarging all the penance of return, "things ought to be coming to a point, I think.
You was talking about me." "We mought be; and yet again we mought not," Master Popplewell returned, with a glance at Mrs. Deborah, who had just been describing to the company how much her husband excelled in jokesomeness. "Brother Stephen, a good man seeks to be spoken of, and a bad one objects to it, in vain." "Very well. You shall have something for your money.
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