, "like a
printed book. Let Tamsin speak her mind about et."

The girl came forward from the fireplace, and Mr. Fogo, as he stole a
glance at her, could see that her eyes were red.

"What do 'ee say, Tamsin? Must we let Kit's House, or shall we leave
th' ould place an' go an' make a leddy of 'ee?"

Tamsin's reply was to fall on her knees before the speaker and break
into a fit of weeping.

"Don't ask me, don't ask me! I don't want to be a lady, an' I
_won't_ leave you. Don't ask me, my dear, dear brothers!"

Peter stroked the dark head buried in his lap, while Paul blew his
nose violently in a yellow bandanna, and replied to Mr. Fogo.

"Very well, sir, so be et. There's the key of Kit's House yonder on
the nail. Ef you likes to look over the place, one of us will follow
you presently, and then, supposin' et to be to your likin', us can
talk over terms."

CHAPTER V.

HOW AN ABSENT-MINDED MAN, THAT HATED WOMEN, TOOK A HOUSE BY THE
WATER-SIDE, AND LIVED THEREIN WITH ONE SERVANT.

"Well, sir," said Caleb Trotter, when the boat was pushed off, "what
do 'ee think of 'em?"

Mr. Fogo, whose wits had been wool-gathering, came to himself with a
start. "I think they are very good people."

"You may say that! The likes o' those Twins you won't see again, not
ef you live to be a hundred. Seems to me," he went on reflectively,
"that Natur', when she turned out the fust, got so pleased wi'
herself that she was bound to try her hand at a dooplicity, just to
relieve her feelin's."

"A what?"

"A dooplicity, sir, otherwise another of the same identical."

"Oh, I see."

"Iss, sir. 'Tes like that rhyme about the Force o' Natur' what cudn'
no furder go, and you can't do 't agen, not ef you try all you know."

"You are fond of poetry, I see," said Mr. Fogo, with a smile.

"Puffec'ly dotes on et, sir."

"Have you ever composed any yourself?"

"Once 'pon a time, sir," said Caleb, pausing in his work, and leaning
forward very mysteriously. "Ef you cares to hear, I don't mind
tellin' 'ee; on'y you must gi' me your Davy you won't let et out to
nobody."

Mr. Fogo gave the required promise.

"Well, 'twas in this way. Once 'pon a time, me an' old Joe Bonaday
was workin' a smack round from Bristol. The _Betsy Ann_ was her
name, No. 1077 o' Troy. Joe was skipper, an' me mate; there was a
boy aboard for crew, but he don't count. Well us got off Ilfrycombe
one a'ternoon--August month et was, an' pipi