The Cruise of the Shining Light Part 38

"'Nar a maid t' Twist Tickle,' says the cook, 'will wed a fool, an' I 'low they isn't one,' says he, 'on the Labrador.'

"'It's been done afore, cook,' says the skipper, 'an' I 'low 'twill be done agin, if the world don't come to an end t' oncet. Cook,' says he, 'I _knows_ the maid t' do it.'

"'I'd be wonderful glad t' find _she_,' says the cook. 'Mother,' says he, 'always 'lowed a man didn't ought t' live alone.'

"'Ay, b'y,' says the skipper, 'I got the girl for _you_. An' she isn't a thousand miles,' says he, 'from where that ol' basket of a _Quick as Wink_ lies at anchor,' says he, 'in Whoopin' Harbor. She isn't what you'd call handsome an' tell no lie,' says he, 'but--'

"'Never you mind about that, skipper,' says the cook.

"'No,' says the skipper, 'she isn't handsome, as handsome goes, even in these parts, but--'

"'Never you mind, skipper,' says the cook: 'for mother always 'lowed that looks come off in the first was.h.i.+n'.'

"'I 'low that Liz Jones would take you, cook,' says the skipper. 'You ain't much on wits, but you got a good-lookin' figure-head; an' I 'low she'd be more'n willin' t' skipper a craft like you. You better go ash.o.r.e, cook, when you gets cleaned up, an' see what she says. Tumm,'

says he, 'is sort o' s.h.i.+pmates with Liz,' says he, 'an' I 'low he'll see you through the worst of it.'

"'Will you, Tumm?' says the cook.

"'Well,' says I, 'I'll see.'

"I knowed Liz Jones from the time I fished Whoopin' Harbor with Skipper Bill Topsail in the _Love the Wind_, bein' cotched by the measles thereabouts, which she nursed me through; an' I 'lowed she _would_ wed the cook if he asked her, so, thinks I, I'll go ash.o.r.e with the fool t' see that she don't. No; she isn't handsome--not Liz.

I'm wonderful fond o' yarnin' o' good-lookin' maids, as you knows, Skipper Nicholas, sir; but I can't say much o' Liz: for Liz is so far t' l'eward o' beauty that many a time, lyin' sick there in the fo'c's'le o' the _Love the Wind_, I wished the poor girl would turn inside out, for, thinks I, the pattern might be a sight better on the other side. I _will_ say she is big and well-muscled; an' muscles, t'

my mind, counts enough t' make up for black eyes, but not for cross-eyes, much less for fuzzy whiskers. It ain't in my heart t' make sport o' Liz; but I _will_ say she has a bad foot, for she was born in a gale, I'm told, when the _Preacher_ was hangin' on off a lee sh.o.r.e 'long about Cape Harrigan, an' the sea was raisin' the devil. An', well--I hates t' say it, but--well, they call her 'Walrus Liz.' No; she isn't handsome, she haven't got no good looks; but once you gets a look into whichever one o' them cross-eyes you is able to cotch, you see a deal more'n your own face; an' she _is_ well-muscled, an' I 'low I'm goin' t' tell you so, for I wants t' name her good p'ints so well as her bad. Whatever--

"'Cook,' says I, 'I'll go along o' you.'

"With that Moses Shoos fell to on the dishes, an' 'twasn't long afore he was ready to clean hisself; which done, he was ready for the courtin'. But first he got out his dunny-bag, an' he fished in there 'til he pulled out a blue stockin', tied in a hard knot; an' from the toe o' that there blue stockin' he took a bra.s.s ring. 'I 'low,' says he, talkin' to hisself, in the half-witted way he has, 'it won't do no hurt t' give her mother's ring. "Moses," says mother, "you better take the ring off my finger. It isn't no weddin'-ring," says she, "for I never was what you might call wed by a real parson in the fas.h.i.+onable way, but on'y accordin' t' the customs o' the land," says she, "an' I got it from the Jew t' make believe I was wed in the way they does it in these days; for it didn't do n.o.body no hurt, an' it sort o' pleased me. You better take it, Moses, b'y," says she, "for the dirt o' the grave would only spile it," says she, "an' I'm not wantin' it no more.

Don't wear it at the fis.h.i.+n', dear," says she, "for the fis.h.i.+n' is wonderful hard," says she, "an' joolery don't stand much wear an'

tear." 'Oh, mother!' says the cook, 'I done what you wanted!' Then the poor fool sighed an' looked up at the skipper. 'I 'low, skipper,' says he, ''twouldn't do no hurt t' give the ring to a man's wife, would it?

For mother wouldn't mind, would she?'

"The skipper didn't answer that.

"'Come, cook,' says I, 'leave us get under way,' for I couldn't stand it no longer.

"So the cook an' me put out in the punt t' land at Whoopin' Harbor, with the crew wis.h.i.+n' the poor cook well with their lips, but thinkin', G.o.d knows what! in their hearts. An' he was in a wonderful state o' fright. I never _seed_ a man so took by scare afore. For, look you! poor Moses thinks she might have un. 'I never had half a chance afore,' says he. 'They've all declined in a wonderful regular way. But now,' says he, 'I 'low I'll be took. I jus' _feels_ that way; an', Tumm, I--I--I'm scared!' I cheered un up so well as I could; an'

by-an'-by we was on the path t' Liz Jones's house, up on Gray Hill, where she lived alone, her mother bein' dead an' her father s.h.i.+pped on a bark from St. John's t' the West Indies. An' we found Liz sittin' on a rock at the turn o' the road, lookin' down from the hill at the _Quick as Wink_; all alone--sittin' there in the moonlight, all alone--thinkin' o' G.o.d knows what!

"'h.e.l.lo, Liz!' says I.

"'h.e.l.lo, Tumm!' says she. 'What vethel'th that?'

"'That's the _Quick as Wink_, Liz,' says I. 'An' here's the cook o'

that there craft,' says I, 'come up the hill t' speak t' you.'

"'That's right,' says the cook. 'Tumm, you're right.'

"'T' thpeak t' _me_!' says she.

"I wisht she hadn't spoke quite that way. Lord! it wasn't nice. It makes a man feel bad t' see a woman put her hand on her heart for a little thing like that.

"'Ay, Liz,' says I, 't' speak t' you. An' I'm thinkin', Liz,' says I, 'he'll say things no man ever said afore--t' you.'

"'That's right, Tumm,' says the cook. 'I wants t' speak as man t'

man,' says he, 't' stand by what I says,' says he, 'accordin' as mother would have me do!'

"Liz got off the rock. Then she begun t' kick at the path; an' she was lookin' down, but I 'lowed she had an eye on Moses all the time.

'For,' thinks I, 'she's sensed the thing out, like all the women.'

"'I'm thinkin',' says I, 'I'll go up the road a bit.'

"'Oh no, you won't, Tumm,' says she. 'You thtay right here. Whath the cook wantin' o' me?'

"'Well,' says the cook, 'I 'low I wants t' get married.'

"'T' get married!' says she.

"'T' get married,' says the cook, 'accordin' as mother would have me; an' I 'low you'll do.'

"'Me?' says she.

"'Liz,' says he, as solemn as church, 'I means you.'

"It come to her all of a suddent--an' she begun t' breathe hard, an'

pressed her hands against her breast an' s.h.i.+vered. But she looked away t' the moon, an' somehow that righted her.

"'You better thee me in daylight,' says she.

"'Don't you mind about that,' says he. 'Mother always 'lowed that sort o' thing didn't matter: an' she knowed.'

"She put a finger under his chin an' tipped his face t' the light.

"'You ithn't got all your thentheth, ith you?' says she.

"'Well,' says he, 'bein' born on Hollow-eve,' says he, 'I _isn't_ quite got all my wits. But,' says he, 'I wisht I had. An' I can't do no more.'

"'An' you wanth t' wed me?' says she. 'Ith you sure you doth?'

"'I got mother's ring,' says the cook, 't' prove it.'

"'Tumm,' says Liz t' me, '_you_ ithn't wantin' t' get married, ith you?'

"'No, Liz,' says I. 'Not,' says I, 't' you.'

"'No,' says she. 'Not--t' me.' She took me round the turn in the road.

'Tumm,' says she, 'I 'low I'll wed that man. I wanth t' get away from here,' says she, lookin' over the hills. 'I wanth t' get t' the thouthern outporth, where there'th life. They ithn't no life here. An'

I'm tho wonderful tired o' all thith! Tumm,' says she, 'no man ever afore athked me t' marry un, an' I 'low I better take thith one. He'th on'y a fool,' says she, 'but not even a fool ever come courtin' me, an' I 'low n.o.body but a fool would. On'y a fool, Tumm!' says she. 'But _I_ ithn't got nothin' t' boatht of. G.o.d made me,' says she, 'an' I ithn't mad that He done it. I 'low He meant me t' take the firth man that come, an' be content. I 'low _I_ ithn't got no right t' thtick up my nothe at a fool. For, Tumm,' says she, 'G.o.d made that fool, too.

An', Tumm,' says she, 'I wanth thomethin' elthe. Oh, I wanth thomethin' elthe! I hateth t' tell you, Tumm,' says she, 'what it ith.

But all the other maidth hath un, Tumm, an' I wanth one, too. I 'low they ithn't no woman happy without one, Tumm. An' I ithn't never had no chanth afore. No chanth, Tumm, though G.o.d knowth they ithn't nothin' I wouldn't do,' says she, 't' get what I wanth! I'll wed the fool,' says she. 'It ithn't a man I wanth tho much; no, it ithn't a man. Ith--'