e-cream o' crime!"

My tutor helplessly nodded.

"Ol' Nick Top," says my uncle, "is on'y a hook-an'-line man, an' fares
hard, as fishermen must; but little ol' Dannie Callaway, sittin' there
in that little cabin o' his, is a damn little gentleman, sir, an'
feeds off the best, as them big-bugs will."

We fell to.

"Wild night," my tutor remarked.

'Twas blowing wildly, indeed: the wind come to the east--sweeping in
from the vast gray sea, with black rain to fling at the world. The
windows rattled as the gusts went crying past the cottage. But a warm
glow, falling from the lamp above the table, and the fire, crackling
and snorting in the grate, put the power of the gale to shame. 'Twas
cosey where we sat: warm, light, dry, with hunger driven off--a cosey
place on a bitter night: a peace and comfort to thank the good God
for, with many a schooner off our coast, from Chidley to the Baccalieu
light, riding out the gale, in a smother of broken water, with a rocky
shore and a flash of breakers to leeward. Born as I am--Newfoundlander
to the marrow of my body and the innermost parts of my soul--my heart
puts to sea, unfailingly, whatever the ease and security of my place,
when the wind blows high in the night and the great sea rages. 'Tis a
fine heritage we have, we outport Newfoundlanders--this feeling for
the toss and tumult and dripping cold of the sea: this sympathy, born
of self-same experience. I'd not exchange it, with the riches of
cities to boot, for the thin-lipped, gray, cold-eyed astuteness, the
pomp and splendid masks, of the marts and avenues I have seen in my
time. I'd be a Newfoundlander, outport born, outport bred, of outport
strength and tenderness of heart, of outport sincerity, had I my birth
to choose....

* * * * *

"Dannie," says my uncle, peering inquisitively into the cabin, "how
d'ye like that there fresh beef?"

'Twas good.

"He likes it!" cries my uncle, delighted. "Parson, he likes it. Hear
un? He likes it. An' 'tis paid for, parson--paid for! Dannie," says
he, again leaning forward, eyes bent upon my plates, "how d'ye like
them there fresh greens? Eh, lad?"

They were very good.

"An' paid for, parson--all paid for!"

My tutor, poor man! stared agape, his knife and fork laid by; for my
uncle, become now excited and most indiscreet, was in a manner the
most perplexing--and in some mysterious indication--pointing, thumb
down, towards the oil-