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roughish customer, but it finds me a jolly one, anā€™ not easily put out. When did I see ye last? Let me see,ā€”two years come Christmas. Why, Iā€™ve been wrecked three times since then, run down twice, anā€™ drownded at least half-a-dozen times; but by good luck they always manages to bring me roundā€”rowsussitate me, as the doctors call it.ā€

ā€œAy, youā€™ve had hard times of it,ā€ observed Gaff, finishing his last morsel of meat, and proceeding to scrape up the remains of gravy and potato with his knife; ā€œIā€™ve bin wrecked myself sinā€™ we last met, but only once, and that warnā€™t long ago, just the last gale. You coasters are worse off than we are. Commend me to blue water, and plenty oā€™ sea-room.ā€

ā€œI believe you, my boy,ā€ responded the skipper. ā€œThereā€™s nothinā€™ like a good offing anā€™ a tight ship. We stand but a poor chance as we go creepinā€™ ā€™long shore in them rotten tubs, that are well named ā€˜Coal-Coffins.ā€™ Why, if it comes on thick squally weather or a gale when yer dodginā€™ off anā€™ on, the ā€˜Coal-Coffinsā€™ go down by dozens. Mayhap at the first burst oā€™ the gale youā€™re hove on your beam-ends, anā€™ away go the masts, leavinā€™ ye to drift ashore or sink; or pā€™raps youā€™re sharp enough to get in sail, and have all snug, when, just as yeā€™re weatherinā€™ a headland, away goes the sheet oā€™ the jib, jibā€™s blowed to ribbons, anā€™ afore ye know where ye are, ā€˜breakers on the lee bow!ā€™ is the cry. Another gust, anā€™ the rotten foretopsā€™lā€™s blowā€™d away, carryinā€™ the fore-topmast by the board, which, of course, takes the jib-boom along with it, if it anā€™t gone before. Then itā€™s ā€˜stand by to let go the anchor.ā€™ ā€˜Let go!ā€™ ā€˜Ay, ay, sir.ā€™ Down it goes, anā€™ the ā€˜Coffinā€™sā€™ brought up sharp; not a moment too soon, mayhap, for ten to one but you see anā€™ hear the breakers, roarinā€™ like mad, thirty yards or so astern. It may be good holdinā€™ ground, but what oā€™ that?ā€”the anchorā€™s an old ā€™un, or too small; the fluke gives way, and yeā€™re adrift; or the cableā€™s too small, and canā€™t stand the strain, so you let go both anchors, anā€™ yeā€™d let go a dozen more if ye had ā€™em for dear life; but itā€™s oā€™ no use. First one anā€™ then the other parts; the stern is crushed in aā€™most afore ye can think, anā€™ in two minutes more, if not less, itā€™s all up with ye, unless thereā€™s a lifeboat at hand.ā€

ā€œAh! pity thereā€™s not more of ā€™em on the coast,ā€ said Gaff.

ā€œTrue,ā€ rejoined Haco, ā€œmany a poor fellerā€™s saved every year by them blessed boats, as would otherwise have gone to the bottom, anā€™ left widder and childer to weep for him, anā€™ be a burden, more or less, on the country.ā€

The waiter appeared at this point in the conversation with the soup, so Haco devoted himself to dinner, while Gaff ordered a plate of bread and cheese extra in order to keep him company. For some minutes they all ate in silence. Then Haco, during the interval between the courses, informed Gaff that he expected to return to the port of London in a day or two; whereupon Gaff said that he just happened to be lookinā€™ out for a ship goinā€™ there, as he had business to do in the great city, and offered to work his way. The skipper readily promised to ship him as an extra hand, if the owner chose to send the ā€˜Coffinā€™ to sea without repairs, ā€œwhich,ā€ observed Haco, ā€œis not unlikely, for heā€™s a close-fisted customer.ā€

ā€œWho is he?ā€ inquired Gaff.

ā€œStuart of Seaside Villa,ā€ said Haco.

ā€œHa! he is a tough un,ā€ observed Gaff, with a significant grin. ā€œI knows him well. He donā€™t much care riskinā€™ fellersā€™ lives, though I never heard of him riskinā€™ his own.ā€

ā€œHeā€™d very near to answer for mine this voyage,ā€ said Haco, as well as he could through a mouthful of steak and potato.

ā€œHow was that?ā€

ā€œThis is how it was,ā€ answered the skipper, bolting the mouthful, ā€œyou see the ā€˜Coffinā€™sā€™ not in a fit state for sea; sheā€™s leaky all over, anā€™ thereā€™s a plank under the starboard quarter, just abaft the cabin skylight, that has fairly struck work, caulk it and pitch it how you please, it wonā€™t keep out the sea no longer, so when we was about to take in cargo, I wrote to Mr Stuart tellinā€™ him of it, anā€™ advisinā€™ repairs, but he wrote back, sayinā€™ it was very awkā€™ard at this time to delay that cargo, anā€™ askinā€™ if I couldnā€™t work the pumps as I had used to do, besides hintinā€™ that he thought I must be gettinā€™ timid as I grew old! You may be sure I didnā€™t think twice. Got the cargo aboard; up sail anā€™ away.

ā€œWell, it was blowinā€™ a stiff norā€™-wester when we got away, anā€™ we couldnā€™t have beat into port again if our lives depended on it. So I calls the crew aft, anā€™ told ā€™em how the matter stood. ā€˜Now, lads,ā€™ says I, ā€˜to speak plain English, the sloop is sinkinā€™ so you had as well turn to anā€™ pump for yer lives, anā€™ Iā€™ll show ye how.ā€™ With that I off coat anā€™ set to work, anā€™ took my turn the whole voyage. But it was touch anā€™ go with us. We nigh sank in the harbour here, anā€™ I had to run her ashore to perwent her goinā€™ down in deep water. Theyā€™re patchinā€™ up the rotten plank at this minute, anā€™ if old Stuart wonā€™t go in for a general overhaul, weā€™ll be ready for sea in a day or two, and youā€™ll have the pleasure oā€™ navigatinā€™ a lot oā€™ wrecked Roosians to London. Now, waiter, ahoy!ā€”ā€

ā€œYessir.ā€

ā€œFetch me a pannikin oā€™ tea, for itā€™s dry work tellinā€™ a anikdot. You see, Gaff, Iā€™m a regā€™lar teetotallerā€”never go the length oā€™ coffee even without a doctorā€™s surtificate. Another cup, Susan?ā€

ā€œNo thank ā€™ee, father, I couldnā€™t.ā€

ā€œWerry good. Now, Gaff, whatā€™s the ā€™ticklers oā€™ your case. Time aboutā€™s fair play, you know.ā€

Gaff, feeling a gush of confidence come over him, and having ascertained that, in regard to secrecy, Susan was as ā€œsafe as the bank,ā€ related the circumstances of the wreck, and his having left Emmie at her grandfatherā€™s villa; the relation of all which caused Haco Barepoles to give vent to a series of low grunts and whistles, expressive of great surprise.

ā€œNow,ā€ said Gaff in conclusion, ā€œthereā€™s a land-shark, (by which I means a lawyer), in London what writes to me that thereā€™s somethinā€™ Iā€™ll hear of to my advantage if I calls on him.ā€

ā€œDonā€™t go,ā€ said Haco, stoutly, as he struck the table with his fist, causing the crockery to rattle again; ā€œtake the advice of an old friend, anā€™ donā€™t go. If you do, heā€™ll do you.ā€

ā€œThankā€™ee, anā€™ Iā€™d foller yer advice, but I happens to know this land-shark. Heā€™s an old acquaintance, anā€™ I can trust him.ā€

ā€œOh, that alters the caseā€”well?ā€

ā€œWell, but before I go,ā€ continued Gaff, ā€œI wants to write a letter to old Stuart to warn him to look arter Emmie; a very partikler letter.ā€

ā€œAy, how much partikler a one?ā€ inquired Haco.

ā€œA hambigoo-ous one,ā€ replied his friend.

ā€œA hamā€”what?ā€ said Haco interrogatively.

ā€œA ham-big-oo-ous one.ā€

ā€œWhat sort of a one may that be, mate?ā€

ā€œWell,ā€ said Gaff, knitting his heavy brows, and assuming altogether a learned aspect, ā€œitā€™s a one that you canā€™t make head nor tail of nohow; one asā€™ll read aā€™rnost as well backā€™ard as forā€™ard, anā€™ yet has got a smack oā€™ somethinā€™ mysterious in it, wā€™ich shows, so to speak, to what pint oā€™ the compass your steerinā€™ forā€”dā€™ye see?ā€

ā€œHā€™mā€”rather hazy ahead,ā€ answered the skipper with a deeply sagacious look; ā€œa difficult letter to write in my opinion. How dā€™ye mean to do it?ā€

ā€œDonā€™t mean to do it at all. Couldnā€™t do it to save my life; but Iā€™ll get a clerk to do it for me, a smart young clerk too; you know who I mean.ā€

ā€œAy, whoā€™ll it be? Iā€™ll never guess; never guessed a guess in my life.ā€

ā€œYou know my darter Tottie?ā€

ā€œWhat, blue-eyed Tottie? oh, yer jokinā€™!ā€

ā€œNot a bit. That childā€™s a parfecā€™ cooriosity of intelligence. She can write and read most wonderful for her age.ā€

ā€œBut sheā€™ll never be able to do the hamā€”what dā€™ye call it?ā€ suggested Haco.

ā€œOf course not; sheā€™s too young for that, but the wifeā€™ll do that. Youā€™ve no notion how powerful hambigoo-ous she is now anā€™ again. Weā€™ll manage it amongst us. Tottie can write like a parson, my wife can read, though she canā€™t write, anā€™ll see that itā€™s all cā€™rect, specially the spellinā€™ anā€™ the makinā€™ of it hambigoo-ous; anā€™ Iā€™ll supply the idees, the notions like, anā€™ superintend, so to speak, anā€™ weā€™ll make little Billy stand by wiā€™ the blottinā€™-paper, just to keep him out oā€™ mischief.ā€

Haco regarded his friend with deepening admiration. The idea of producing a ā€œhambigoo-ousā€ letter by such an elaborate family combination, in which each should supply his co-labourerā€™s deficiency, was quite new and exceedingly interesting to him. Suddenly his countenance became grave, as it occurred to him that there was no call for such a letter at all, seeing that Kenneth Stuart was sure to do his best to induce his father to take care of the child. On observing this to his friend, the latter shook his head.

ā€œIā€™m not quite sure oā€™ Mister Kenneth,ā€ said he, ā€œitā€™s likely that heā€™ll do the right thing by her, but ā€˜like father, like sonā€™ is an old proverb. He may be a chip oā€™ the old block.ā€

ā€œThat he is not,ā€ interrupted Haco warmly. ā€œI know the lad well. He takes after his poor mother, and Iā€™m sartin sure ye may trust him.ā€

ā€œWell, I must trust him,ā€ said Gaff, ā€œbut Iā€™ve had no experience of him; so I mean to ā€˜make assurance doubly sure,ā€™ as the prophet says, if it wasnā€™t the poetā€”anā€™ thatā€™s why Iā€™ll write this letter. If it donā€™t do no good, it wonā€™t do no harm.ā€

ā€œIā€™m not so sure oā€™ that,ā€ said Haco, shaking his head as they rose to depart, ā€œhowsā€™ever, you know best. Now mind, Susan, not a word oā€™ this to any one.ā€

Susan promised, and in the course of the evening related the whole affair to Daniel Horsey ā€œin confidence;ā€ her conscience being apparently relieved by the idea that having told it only in strict confidence she had not broken her word!

Dan made her promise solemnly that she would tell the tale to no one else on earth, either in confidence or otherwise, and thus he checked the stream of gossip as close to its fountain-head as possible.

Chapter Eleven. The Writing of the ā€œHambigoo-ousā€ Letter.

When Stephen Gaff approached his own cottage, he beheld his wife belabouring the Buā€™ster with both hands and tongue unmercifully. What special piece of mischief Billy had been doing is not of much consequence. It is enough to state that he suddenly planted the heel of his naked foot somewhat effectively on his motherā€™s little toe, which chanced to be resting on a sharp stone at the moment, burst from her grasp, and rushed down the steep bank to the beach cheering, weeping, and laughing all at once, in a sort of hysterical triumph.

Mrs Gaff shouted at the top of her voice to the cherub to come back and get mauled; but the cherub declined the invitation until he heard his fatherā€™s voice, when he returned joyously, and took shelter under his wing. Mrs Gaff, who could change at a momentā€™s notice from the extreme of anger to perfect quiescence, contented herself with shaking her fist at the Buā€™ster, and then relapsed from the condition of a fury into a quiet, good-looking dame.

This appears to be the normal condition of fisher-folk, who would seem to require to make use of an excessive amount of moral and physical suasion in order suitably to impress their offspring.

ā€œNow,

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