just--"

"Excuse me. Did I say 'birds,' Issy? I didn't mean birds like--like
crows. Of course a face like yours would keep the crows away all right
enough. I meant girls. How do you keep the girls away? I should think
they would be making love all the time."

"Aw, you shut up! Just 'cause you're Cap'n Lote's grandson I presume
likely you think you can talk any kind of talk, don't ye?"

"Not any kind, Is. I can't talk like you. Will you teach me?"

"Shut up! Now, by Crimus, you--you furriner--you Speranzy--"

Mr. Keeler appeared at the office window. His shrill voice rose pipingly
in the wintry air as he demanded to know what was the trouble out there.

Mr. Price, still foaming, strode toward the window; Albert laughingly
followed him.

"What's the matter?" repeated Laban. "There's enough noise for a sewin'
circle. Be still, Is, can't you, for a minute. Al, what's the trouble?"

"Issy's been talking about his face," explained Albert, soberly.

"I ain't neither. I was h'istin' up my end of a j'ist, same as I'm
paid to do, and, 'stead of helpin' he stands there and heaves out talk
about--about--"

"Well, about what?"

"Aw, about--about me and--and girls--and all sorts of dum foolishness.
I tell ye, I've got somethin' else to do beside listen to that kind of
cheap talk."

"Um. Yes, yes. I see. Well, Al, what have you got to say?"

"Nothing. I'm sure I don't know what it is all about. I was working as
hard as I could and all at once he began pitching into me."

"Pitchin' into you? How?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something about my looks he didn't like, I guess.
Wanted to know if I thought I was as handsome as he was, or something
like that."

"Eh? I never neither! All I said was--"

Mr. Keeler raised his hand. "Seems to be a case for an umpire," he
observed. "Um. Seem's if 'twas, seems so, seems so. Well, Captain Lote's
just comin' across the road and, if you say the word, I'll call him in
to referee. What do you say?"

They said nothing relevant to the subject in hand. Issachar made the
only remark. "Crimus-TEE!" he ejaculated. "Come on, Al, come on."

The pair hurried away to resume lumber piling. Laban smiled slightly and
closed the window. It may be gathered from this incident that when the
captain was in charge of the deck there was little idle persiflage among
the "fo'mast hands." They, like others in South Harniss, did not presume
to trifle with Captain Lote Snow.

So the business education of Albe