ascom.

"Dere will be oder tides, an' dey is waitin' faw de figs ad de factory,"
said the Captain, "so I fink yo' bettah go to pickin', boy"; and without
stopping for further persuasion from Bascom he got into his skiff and
headed toward the mouth of Bayou Porto.

As Bascom carried the last of the melons to add to the heap it slipped
from his hands accidentally, and split into rich red pieces on the sand.
"U-m," he said; "lucky it was a cracked one." He took it up to eat it in
the shade of the live-oak. "Too bad," he added, "after you was so
enterprisin' to start out by yourse'f that me an' Captain Tony couldn't
agree to take you right along. Queer how folkses can't agree 'bout you.
If it wasn't for them dumb ole figs! S'pose when I'm done eatin' I _got_
to go up an' go to pickin'. Seems like such a sailor as Captain Tony
hadn't ought to fuss with things on shore."

His arms were aching from the heavy pull, and they did not feel drawn
toward the sticky figs, and mud daubers were sure to be in the trees
ready to sting interfering people, and he had not finished with the
melon when Peter Pierre, or Peter _Peer_, as the Creoles pronounce it,
came hopping leisurely along the beach, with one leg wrapped around the
other like a stork's. He was a neighbor's boy, and had been sent to
borrow Captain Tony's axe. There would be no morning coffee at his house
until Captain Tony's axe had chopped wood enough to build a fire.

"H-o!" said Peter Peer.

"H-o!" replied Bascom.

"Whose is dose melons?" cried Peter Peer. "Wheah did dey come from?"

"Came down the bayou," said Bascom. "They's mine. Mine an' Captain
Tony's."

"Gimme one?"

"Nop," said Bascom.

"Sell one?"

"N-nop, I reckon not. They ain't so many as they look."

"Heap o' cracked ones," said Peter Peer. "I'll trade yo' my play boat
faw one."

"Eatin' the cracked ones," said Bascom, taking another mouthful; "they's
mighty sweet."

"Yo' can'd eat dem _all_!" cried Peter Peer, his eyes rolling hungrily
from side to side.

"Look a-here, kid," said Bascom; "if you want one so bad I'll tell you
what I'll do. I'll let you pick figs for 'em. I was wantin' to pick 'em
myse'f, but it looks like I got to stay and take charge of these. I'll
give you a cracked melon for every basket of figs you pick."

"All right," said Peter Peer; "gimme de basket."

Bascom gave him a corner of melon to seal the bargain and keep the
basket from looking too large, and Peter Peer wa