, when Peter Walsh made a
mistake in buying paint, and grieved Priscilla greatly by turning out
the _Blue Wanderer_ a sober grey. This year, though the name still
sticks to her, it is less suitable still, for Priscilla, buying the
paint herself at Easter time, ordained that the _Blue Wanderer_ should
be green.

Above the quay, at the far side of the fair green, stands Brannigan's
shop, a convenient and catholic establishment. To the left of the door
as you enter, is the shop of a publican, equipped with a bar and a
sheltering partition for modest drinkers. To the right, if you turn that
way, is a counter at which you can buy anything, from galvanised iron
rowlocks to biscuits and jam. On the low window sills of both windows
sit rows of men who for the most part earn an honest living by watching
the tide go in and out and by making comments on the boats which
approach or leave the quay. It is difficult to find out who pays them
for doing these things, but it is plain that some one does, for they are
not men of funded property, and yet they live, live comfortably, drink,
smoke, eat occasionally and are sufficiently clothed. Of only one among
them can it be said with certainty that he is in receipt of regular pay
from anybody. Peter Walsh earns five shillings a week by watching over
the _Tortoise_ and the _Blue Wanderer_.

Priscilla leaped off her bicycle at the door of Bran-nigan's shop. The
men on the window sills took no notice of her. They were absorbed in
watching the operation of warping round the head of a small steamer
which lay far down the quay. The captain had run out a hawser and
made the end of it fast to a buoy at the far side of the fair-way. A
donkey-engine on the steamer's deck was clanking vigorously, hauling in
the hawser, swinging the head of the steamer round, a slow but deeply
interesting manoeuvre. "Peter Walsh," said Priscilla, "is that you?" "It
is, Miss," said Peter, "and it's proud and pleased I am to see you home
again." "Is the _Blue Wanderer_ ready for me?" "She is, Miss. The minute
you like to step into her she's there for you. There's a new pair of
rowlocks and I've a nice bit of rope for a halyard for the little lug.
Is it it you have tied on the bicycle?"

"It is," said Priscilla, "and it's a good sail, half as big again as the
old one."

"I'd be glad now," said Peter, "if you'd make that same halyard fast to
the cleat on the windward side any time you might be using the sail."

"Do