a laugh through his musty
beard.

"Now," says he, "d'ye think it comical?"

Skipper Harry shook his head.

"God, no!" says he.

"What's the matter?" says the lad. His mouth was twitchin'. 'Twas
awful t' behold. 'Tis worse when I think o' the whole truth of his
state. "What's--what's the m-m-matter?" says he. "Wh-wh-what's the
matter?"

Skipper Harry an' me jus' sot there starin' at un. John Scull's son!
Everybody in Newf'un'land knowed all about John Scull o' Hide-an'-Seek
Harbor.

* * * * *

'Twas plain--the whole tale o' the lad's little life. In all my
travels afore I had never encountered a child in a state as woeful an'
helpless as that. In the beginnin', no doubt, 'twas needful t' lie t'
un--a baby, no more, bewildered by a mystery that he had now forgot
all about, an' plyin' folk with questions in ease o' the desolation in
which his father had plunged un. The folk o' Hide-an'-Seek Harbor had
lied in kindness at first--'twas all plain; an' in the drift o' the
years since then, little by little, more an' more, with less
conscience all the while, they had lied for their own amusement. Look
you, the lad had boasted, no doubt, an' was a comical sight when he
did--chest out an' face scowlin' an' flushed, as we had seed it that
night, an' his wee legs spread an' his way growed loud, whilst he
declared the virtues of a father whose fortune was knowed to them
all, young an' old alike, an' whose fate was a by-word. In the end,
I'm thinkin', 'twas a cherished sport, followed by the folk o' the
harbor an' all strangers, thus t' tell wild tales t' the lad, an' the
wilder the more comical, of his father's great deeds; an' 'twas a
better sport still, an' far more laughable, t' gather 'round un, at
times, for their own amusement an' the entertainment o' travelers, an'
hear un repeat, with his own small inventions t' season them, the
whoppin' yarns they had teached un t' believe.

Skipper Harry was married to a maid o' Linger Tickle, an' was jus' a
average, kindly sort o' man, with a heart soft enough, as the hearts
o' most men is, t' be touched by the woes o' children, an' the will t'
act rashly in relief o' them, come what might of it by an' by, if
'twas no hard riddle t' know what t' do at once. Sailin' our coast, I
had heared un declare, poundin' it out on the forecastle table, that
the man who debated a deed o' kindness with his own heart, or paused
t' consider an' act o' punishmen