to the edge of the
pan, and shook his fist in Pinch-a-Penny's face again. "Know what I
done in St. John's last fall?" says he. "I seen a doctor, ye crab!
Know what he told me? No, ye don't! Twenty years o' my life this here
ol' skinflint will pay for!" he crowed. "Two thousand dollars he'll
put in the hands o' my poor wife!"

Well, well! The rodney was moving away. And a swirl of snow shrouded
poor Tom Lane. But they heard un laugh once more.

"My heart is givin' 'way, anyhow!" he yelled. "I didn't have three
months t' live!"

* * * * *

Old Pinch-a-Penny Peter done what he said he would do. He laid the
money in poor Mary Lane's hands. But a queer thing happened next day.
Up went the price of pork at Pinch-a-Penny's shop! And up went the
price of tea and molasses! And up went the price of flour!

* * * * *

VI

A MADONNA OF TINKLE TICKLE

* * * * *

VI

A MADONNA OF TINKLE TICKLE

It was at Soap-an'-Water Harbor, with the trader _Quick as Wink_ in
from the sudsy seas of those parts, that Tumm, the old clerk, told the
singular tale of the Madonna of Tinkle Tickle.

"I'm no hand for sixpenny novels," says he, with a wry glance at the
skipper's dog-eared romance. "Nursemaids an' noblemen? I'm chary. I've
no love, anyhow, for the things o' mere fancy. But I'm a great
reader," he protested, with quick warmth, "o' the tales that are lived
under the two eyes in my head. I'm forever in my lib'ry, too. Jus'
now," he added, his eye on a dismayed little man from Chain Harbor,
"I'm readin' the book o' the cook. An' I'm lookin' for a sad endin',
ecod, if he keeps on scorchin' the water!"

The squat little Newfoundland schooner was snug in the lee of False
Frenchman and down for the night. A wet time abroad: a black wind in
the rigging, and the swish and patter of rain on the deck. But the
forecastle bogey was roaring, and the forecastle lamp was bright; and
the crew--at ease and dry--sprawled content in the forecastle glow.

"Lyin' here at Soap-an'-Water Harbor, with Tinkle Tickle hard-by," the
clerk drawled on, "I been thumbin' over the queer yarn o' Mary Mull.
An' I been enjoyin' it, too. An old tale--lived long ago. 'Tis a tale
t' my taste. It touches the heart of a woman. An' so, lads--'tis a
mystery."

Then the tale that was lived page by page under the two eyes in Tumm's
head:

"Tim Mul