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meant.

ā€œExplain what I mean, coolinary sunbeam!ā€ said Dan; ā€œisnā€™t it explaininā€™ that I am as plain as the nose on yer face, (anā€™ a purty wan it is), though I havenā€™t got the powers of a lawyer, nor yit a praist? Didnā€™t a drippinā€™ wet sailor come to our door at the dead oā€™ night anā€™ ring the bell as bowld as brass, anā€™ when Mrs Niven, whose intellect was niver much beyond that of a poplypusā€”ā€

ā€œWhatā€™s a poplypus?ā€ interrupted cook.

ā€œWell now,ā€ remonstrated Dan, ā€œI ainā€™t ā€™xactly a walkinā€™ dictionary; but I bā€™lieve itā€™s a baist oā€™ the say what hainā€™t got nothinā€™ but a body anā€™ a stummik, indeed Iā€™m not sure but that itā€™s all stummik together, with just legs enough to move about with, or may be a fin or two, anā€™ a hole to let in the wittles; quite in your line, by the way, Miss Bounder.ā€

ā€œImperance!ā€ ejaculated cook.

ā€œNo offence,ā€ said Dan; ā€œbut ā€˜to resoom the thread oā€™ the narrative,ā€™ as the story books say, Mrs Niven she opened the door, and the drippinā€™ wet sailor he puts a little wet spalpeen in her arms, anā€™ goes right off without so much as by your lave, anā€™ thatā€™s all we know about it. Anā€™ Grumpy he goes raginā€™ about the house sayinā€™ heā€™ll have nothinā€™ to do wiā€™ the poor little thingā€”whoā€™s not so little naither, beinā€™ a ten-year-old if sheā€™s an hour, anā€™ a purty sweet face to bootā€”anā€™ that heā€™ll send her to the workusā€™ or prisā€™n, or anywhere; but in his house sheā€™s not to stop another day. Well, not havinā€™ the management oā€™ the whole of this worldā€™s affairs, (fortā€™nately, else a scrubbily managed world it would be), Grumpy finds out that when he wants to send little Emmie, (as she calls herself), off, sheā€™s knocked down by a raginā€™ fever, anā€™ the doctor he says itā€™s as much as her life is worth to move her. So Grumpy has to grin and bear it, and thereā€™s little Emmie lyinā€™ at this minit in our best bed, (where Mrs Niven put her the moment she was took bad), a-tossinā€™ her purty arms in the air, anā€™ makinā€™ her yellow hair fly over the pillows, and kickinā€™ off the close like a young angel in a passion, and callinā€™ on her mama in a voice that would make a stone immage weep, all the while that Miss Penelope is snivellinā€™ on one side oā€™ the bed, anā€™ Mrs Niven is snortinā€™ on the other.ā€

ā€œPoor dear,ā€ said Susan in a low voice, devoting herself with intensified zeal to the tea-pot, while sympathetic tears moistened her eyes.

I interrupted the conversation at this point by entering the kitchen with my note to my friend Stuart. I had to pass through the kitchen to my back garden when I wished to leave my house by the back garden gate. I had coughed and made as much noise as possible in approaching the cookā€™s domains, but they had been so much engrossed with each other that they did not hear me. Dan sprang hastily off the table, and suddenly assumed a deeply respectful air.

ā€œDan,ā€ said I, ā€œtake this note to Mr Stuart as quickly as possible, and bring me an answer without delay. I am going to see Haco Barepoles atā€”ā€

ā€œOh, sir!ā€ exclaimed Susan with a start, and looking at me interrogatively.

ā€œOh, I forgot, Susan; your father has just arrived from Aberdeen, and is at this moment in the Sailorsā€™ Home. You may run down to see him, my girl, if you choose.ā€

ā€œThank you, sir,ā€ said Susan, with a glow of pleasure on her good-looking face, as she pushed the tea-pot from her, and dropt the cloth, in her haste to get away to see her sire.

ā€œStay, Susan,ā€ said I; ā€œyou need not hurry back. In fact, you may spend the day with your father, if you choose; and tell him that I will be down to see him in a few minutes. But I shall probably be there before you. You may take Mr Stuartā€™s answer to the Home,ā€ I added, turning to Dan; ā€œI shall be there when you return with it.ā€

ā€œYes, sir,ā€ said Dan in a tone so energetic as to cause me to look at him. I observed that he was winking towards the kitchen door. Casting my eyes thither I saw that Susanā€™s face was much flushed as he disappeared into the passage. I also noted that the cookā€™s face was fiery red, and that she stirred a large pot, over which she bent, with unnecessary violenceā€”viciously, as it were.

Pondering on these things I crossed my garden and proceeded towards the Home, which stood on a conspicuous eminence near the docks, at the east end of the town.

Chapter Nine. The Sailorsā€™ Home and the Mad Skipper.

The Sailorsā€™ Home in Wreckumoft was a neat, substantial, unpretending edifice, which had been built by a number of charitable people, in order to provide a comfortable residence, with board at moderate terms, for the numerous seamen who frequented our port. It also served as a place of temporary refuge to the unfortunate crews of the numerous wrecks which occurred annually on our shores.

Here I found Haco Barepoles, the skipper of a coal sloop, seated on the side of his bed in one of the little berths of the Home, busily engaged in stuffing tobacco into the bowl of a great German pipe with the point of his little finger. Susan, who had outstripped me, was seated beside him with her head on his shoulder.

ā€œOh, father!ā€ I heard Susan say, as I walked along the passage between the rows of sleeping berths that lined each side of the principal dormitory of our Home; ā€œI shall lose you some day, I fear. How was it that you came so near beinā€™ wrecked?ā€

Before the skipper could reply I stood in the doorway of his berth.

ā€œGood-day, Haco,ā€ said I; ā€œglad to see you safe back once more.ā€

ā€œThankee, Capā€™n Bingleyā€”same to you, sir,ā€ said Haco, rising hastily from the bed and seizing my hand, which he shook warmly, and, I must add, painfully; for the skipper was a hearty, impulsive fellow, apt to forget his strength of body in the strength of his feelings, and given to grasp his male friends with a gripe that would, I verily believe, have drawn a roar from Hercules.

ā€œIā€™ve come back to the old bunk, you see,ā€ he continued, while I sat down on a chest which served for a chair. ā€œI likes the Home better anā€™ better every time I comes to it, and Iā€™ve brought all my crew with me; for you see, sir, the ā€˜Coffinā€™sā€™ aā€™most fallinā€™ to pieces, and will have to go into dock for a riglar overhaul.ā€

ā€œThe Coffin?ā€ said Susan, interrogatively.

ā€œYes, lass; itā€™s only a nickname the old tub got in the north, where they call the colliers coal-coffins, ā€™cause itā€™s ten to one youā€™ll go to the bottom in ā€™em every time ye go to sea.ā€

ā€œAre they all so bad as to deserve the name?ā€ inquired Susan.

ā€œNo, not ā€™xactly all of ā€™em; but thereā€™s a good lot as are not half so fit for sea as a washinā€™ tub. You see, they ainā€™t worth repairinā€™, and owners sometimes just take their chance oā€™ makinā€™ a safe run by keepinā€™ the pumps goinā€™ the whole time.ā€

I informed Haco that I had called for the purpose of telling him that I had applied to Mr Stuart, who owned his little coal sloop, to give a few wrecked Russians a passage to London, in order that they might be handed over to the care of their consul; but that I would have to find a passage for them in some other vessel, as the ā€œCoffinā€ was so unseaworthy.

ā€œDonā€™t be in too great a hurry, sir,ā€ said Haco, with a peculiar smile and twinkle in his eye; ā€œIā€™m inclined to think that Mr Stuart will send her back to London to be repaired thereā€”ā€

ā€œWhat!ā€ exclaimed Susan, with a flush of indignation, ā€œanā€™ risk your life, father?ā€

ā€œAs to that, lass, my life has got to be risked anyhow, and it ainā€™t much worth, to say the truth; so you neednā€™t trouble yourself on that pint.ā€

ā€œItā€™s worth a great deal to me,ā€ said Susan, drawing herself closer to the side of her rugged parent.

I could not help smiling as I looked at this curious specimen of a British seaman shaking his head gravely and speaking so disparagingly of himself, when I knew, and every one in the town knew, that he was one of the kindest and most useful of men. He was a very giant in size, with a breadth of shoulder that would have made him quite ridiculous had it not been counterbalanced by an altitude of six feet four. He had a huge head of red hair, and a huge heart full of tenderness. His only fault was utter recklessness in regard to his own life and limbsā€”a fault which not unfrequently caused him to place the lives and limbs of others in jeopardy, though he never could be brought to perceive that fact.

ā€œWhatever your life may be worth, my friend,ā€ said I, ā€œit is to be hoped that Mr Stuart will not risk it by sending you to sea in the ā€˜Coffinā€™ till it is thoroughly overhauled.ā€

ā€œCome in!ā€ shouted the skipper, in answer to a rap at the door.

The invitation to enter was not accepted, but the rap was repeated.

ā€œGo, Susan,ā€ said I, ā€œsee who it is.ā€

Susan obeyedā€”with unusual alacrity, as I fancied, but did not return with equal quickness. We heard her whispering with some one; then there was a sound as if of a suppressed scream, followed by something that was marvellously like a slap applied to a cheek with an open hand. Next moment Susan re-appeared with a letter and a very flushed face.

ā€œA letter, sir,ā€ said Susan, dropping her eyes.

ā€œWho brought it?ā€ I inquired.

ā€œMr Horsey, sir.ā€ Susan stammered the name, and looked confused. ā€œHe waits an answer, sir.ā€

Haco Barepoles had been eyeing his daughter gravely the while. He now sprang up with the wild energy that was his peculiar characteristic, and flinging the door wide-open with a crash that shook the whole framework of the berth, stood face to face with Dan Horsey.

Intense gravity marked the features of the groom, who stood, hat in hand, tapping the side of his top-boot with a silver-mounted riding-whip. He met Hacoā€™s steady frown with a calm and equally steady gaze of his clear grey eyes; and then, relaxing into a smile, nodded familiarly, and inquired if the weather was fine up there, bekaise, judginā€™ from his, (Hacoā€™s), face he would be inclined to think it must be raither cowld!

Haco smiled grimly: ā€œYe was to wait an answer, was ye?ā€

ā€œIf I may venture to make so bowld as to say so in the presence of your highness, I was.ā€

ā€œThen wait,ā€ said Haco, smiling a little less grimly.

ā€œThank ye, sir, for yer kind permission,ā€ said Dan in a tone and with an air of assumed meekness.

The skipper returned to the bed, which creaked as if taxed to its utmost, when he sat down on it, and drew Susan close to his side.

ā€œThis is from Mr Stuart, Haco,ā€ said I, running my eye hastily over the note; ā€œhe consents to my sending the men in your vessel, but after what you have told meā€”ā€

ā€œDonā€™t mind wot I told ye, Captain Bingley. Iā€™ll see Mr Stuart to-day, anā€™ll call on you in the afternoon. The ā€˜Coffinā€™ ainā€™t quite so bad as she looks. Have ā€™ee any answer to send back?ā€

ā€œNo,ā€ said I, turning to Dan, who still stood at the door tapping his right boot with a jaunty air; ā€œtell your master, with my compliments, that I will see him about this matter in the evening.ā€

ā€œAnd harkā€™ee, lad,ā€ cried Haco, again springing up and confronting the groom, ā€œdā€™ye see this young ā€™ooman?ā€ (pointing to Susan.)

ā€œSure I do,ā€ replied Dan, with a smile and

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