in all weathers, staring into the darkness in an oilskin suit!"

"'Tisn' the sort o' man I should ever choose for a husband, if I wanted
one," maintained Dinah.

"Who was talking of husbands, you silly woman?"

"I don't see how else the men-folk consarn us, mistress."

"You're coarse, Dinah."

"I'm practical, anyway. If they choose to toss up an' down 'pon the sea
they're welcome, for me. But, for my part, when I lay me down at night,
I like to be sure o' gettin' up in the same position next mornin'; and
I'd to feel the same about a husband, supposin' I cared for the man."

"I often think," mused Mrs Bosenna, "that we're not half grateful enough
to sailors, considering the risks they run and the things they bring us
home: tea and coffee, raisins, currants, with all kinds of spices and
cordial drinks."

"Oranges an' lemons, say the bells o' St Clemen's. Oranges--"

"I wasn't thinking of this Captain Hocken in particular," interrupted
the widow hastily. "Take a Christmas pudding, for instance. Flour and
suet, and there's an end if you depend on the farmer; just an ordinary
dumpling. Whereas the sailor brings the figs, the currants, the candied
peel, the chopped almonds, the brandy--all the ingredients that make it
Christmassy."

"And then the farmer takes an' eats it. Aw, believe me, mistress,
Stay-at-home fares best in this world!"

"I don't know, Dinah," sighed Mrs Bosenna. "Haven't you ever in your
life wished for a pair o' wings?"

"To wear in my hat? Why, o' course I have."

"No, no; I mean, for the wings of a dove, to fly away and be--well, not
at rest exactly--"

"No, I haven't, mistress. But 'tis the way with you discontented rich
folks. Like Hocken's ducks, all of 'ee--never happy unless you be where
you baint. . . . I wonder if that Hocken was any relation--S-sh! now!
Talk of the devil!"

Captain Cai and Fancy had spent a good hour-and-a-half in overhauling
the two cottages. Their accommodation was narrow enough, but Captain
Cai, after half a lifetime on shipboard, found them little short of
palatial. The child could scarcely drag him away from the tiny
bath-rooms with their hot and cold water taps.

"Lord," said he, gazing down into the newly painted bath in No.1.
"To think of 'Bias in the likes o' this!"

"You may, if you care to," said Fancy.

"'Tis a knack of mine," he apologised. "We'll suppose him safely out of
it, an' what happens next? Why, he'll step across to the