s. Pluck had been hum,
helping Cousin Gethro to keep school--would!'

"'Never mind that. We don't want yer Yankee soft sauder! Bear a hand,
get your hatches off, and your papers up!'

"'Ye hain't seen Uncle Caleb's craft--her name's the Winking
Weazel--as ye come from down north, have ye?' inquires Pluck, giving
the mate a side wink.

"'What the devil do I care about yer Winking Weazels? I'm quite
certain you have been fishing inside of the line, or you had obeyed
our summons properly,' he growled out again, like a bear in
trouble. 'Blow my buttons, if I warn't most scared to death when I
seed ye comin'! Couldn't tell what on 'arth ye wanted; and I know'd
that if there war' a chance at all, it was to run. If I'd know'd ye
war' such a clever lookin' fellow, and that ye warn't a going to hurt
a body, I'd come to quicker nor lightenin.' Pluck got all the
philosophy in his natur' up. 'Suppose ye step down into the cabin and
have a leetle of somethin' to take, seem' what a tarnal ugly fog's
comin' up. Tom Blowers 'll get all the things clear, so ye can take a
look round, and be satisfied how we ain't been takin' advantage of the
law, while you and me wets t'other eye with a little what won't taste
bad,' continues Pluck, doing the polite all up. The good natur' of the
chap was a good way down' in him, but talkin' of a little drop just
dropped into the right place, brought it up all over him. 'Well,
seeing it's you, providing it's right good, I don't mind,' he replied,
reflectively. It warmed up the tender spot in his stomach, and, going
down below, he wet t'other eye twice. 'Stonishin' to see how good the
critter got all at once. He was just the best natured Britisher that
ever came along. 'Twas just the medicine to cure his disease.

"'Now! here's the dockerments' (Pluck hands him the papers), 'and ye
can take a squint into the hold. Hain't touched a fish for three
days. Just so, stranger,' rejoined Pluck, tellin' the cook to get the
skipper of the Devastation to be kind enough to lend him a keg of
water.

"'Schooner Spunk, of Barnstable, 84 tons burden, Jacob Pluck, master,
&c., &c. Mighty formidable combination,' ejaculated the Britisher,
lookin' his eyes almost out, and runnin' the forefinger of his right
hand over the Spunk's Certificate. Then turning to Pluck, a sort of
half-way grin of good nature on his countenance, he continued: 'You
Yankees are curious specimens, after all. Pretty generous,
good-natured when