ee."

"'Taint that, Joe," replied Bob, quickly. "What's the time now, lad?"

Pulling out the antique warming-pan again, Slag said it was nigh a
quarter past ten, and added that he, (Bob), seemed to be "uncommon
consarned about the time o' day that mornin'."

"And so would you be, lad," returned the coxswain, in a low voice, as he
advanced his mouth to his comrade's ear, "if you was in my fix. I've
got to be spliced this day before twelve, an' the church is more'n two
miles inland!"

"That's awk'ard," returned Slag, with a troubled look. "But, I say,
Bob, you've kep' this uncommon close from us all--eh? I never heerd ye
was to be spliced so soon."

"Of course I kep' it close, 'cos I wanted to give you an' my mates a
surprise, but it strikes me I'll give some other people a surprise
to-day, for there's no time to put on clean toggery."

"You'll never manage it," said Slag, in a sympathetic tone, as he once
more consulted the warming-pan. "It's gettin' on for half arter ten
now, an' it takes a mortal time to rig out in them go-to-meetin' slops."

"Do I look anything like a bridegroom as I am?" asked the coxswain with
a curious glance.

"Sca'cely," replied Slag, surveying his friend with a grim smile--"(mind
your helm, Bob, there's a awk'ard run on the tide round the pier-head,
you know.) No; you're not wery much like one. Even if your toggery was
all ship-shape--which it ain't--it would stand dryin', and your hair
would be the better o' brushin'--to say nothin' o' your beard--an' it do
seem, too, as if a bit o' soap might improve your hands an' face arter
last night's work. No, Bob, I couldn't honestly say as you're exactly
ship-shape as you stand."

"Listen, Joe Slag," said Bob Massey, with sudden earnestness. "I've
never yet come in after a rescue without seein' the boat hauled up an'
made snug. `Dooty first, an' pleasure arter,' that's bin my motto, as
_you_ know. But dooty lies in another direction _this_ day, so you
promise to see her hauled up, an' cleaned, an' properly housed, won't
you?"

"In coorse I does."

"Well, then," continued Bob, in the same low, earnest tone, "arter
that's done, you'll go an' invite all our mates an' friends to a jolly
blow-out in the big shed alongside o' my old mother's house. Don't tell
who invites 'em, or anything about it, an' ask as many as like to come--
the shed's big enough to hold 'em all. Only be sure to make 'em
understand that they'll get no drink st