Part 26 (2/2)
”Sure that I'm what?” he demanded.
”A wise man. He says that, next to Judge Knowles, he had rather have your opinion than any one else in Bayport.”
The captain shook his head. ”Dear, dear!” he sighed. ”And just as I had come to the conclusion that George was so smart. Me a wise man? _Me!_ Tut, tut! George, you disappoint me.”
But she would not be turned aside in that way.
”There is no reason for disappointment that I can see,” she said. ”I think he is quite right. You _are_ a wise man, Cap'n Kendrick. Of course I know you must be or Judge Knowles would not have selected you to take charge here. But since you and I have been working together I have found it out for myself. In fact I don't see how we ever got along--mother and I--before you came. And we didn't get on very well, that is a fact,” she added, with a rueful smile.
”Rubbis.h.!.+ You got on wonderfully. And as for the worth of my opinions--well, you ask Northern Lights what she thinks of 'em. She'll tell you, I'll bet.”
”Northern Lights” was Captain Sears's pet name for Mrs. Aurora Chase.
Elizabeth asked why Aurora should hold his opinions lightly. The captain chuckled.
”Well,” he explained, ”she asked me yesterday what I thought of the Orthodox minister's sermons about the Universalist folks play-actin'. I said I hadn't heard 'em first hand, but that I understood they were hot.
I thought she sailed off with her nose pretty well aloft, but I couldn't see why. To-day Esther Tidditt told me that she had understood me to say the sermons were 'rot.' That's what comes of bein' hard of hearin'. Ho, ho! But truth will out, won't it?”
The afternoon preceding the evening when ”Down by the Sea” was to be publicly presented upon the stage of the town hall was overcast and cloudy. Judah, with one eye upon the barometer swinging in its gimbals in the General Minot front entry, had gloomily prophesied rain. Captain Sears, although inwardly agreeing with the prophecy, outwardly maintained an obstinate optimism.
”I don't care if the gla.s.s is down so low that the mercury sticks out of the bottom and hits the deck,” he declared. ”It isn't goin' to rain to-night, Judah. You mark my words.”
”I'm a-markin' 'em, Cap'n Sears. I'm a-markin' of 'em. But what's the use of words alongside of a fallin' gla.s.s like that? And, besides, ain't I been watchin' the sky all the afternoon? Look how it's smurrin' up over to the west'ard. Look at them mare's tails streakin' out up aloft.
'Mack'rel skies and mares' tails Make lofty s.h.i.+ps to douse their sails.'
You know that's well's I do, Cap'n Sears.”
”Yes, yes, so I do, Judah. But do you know this one?
'Hi, diddle, diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon.'
What have you got to say to that, eh?”
Judah stared at him. His chin quivered.
”Wh--wh--” he stammered. ”What have I got to say to that? Why, I ain't got nawthin' to say to it. There ain't no sense to it. That's Mother Goose talk, that's all that is, What's that got to do with the weather?”
”It would have somethin' to do with it if a cow jumped over the moon, wouldn't it?”
”Eh? But---- Oh, creepin' prophets, Cap'n Sears, what's the use of you and me wastin' our breath over such foolishness? You're just bein'
funny, that's all.” His expression changed, and he smiled broadly. ”Why, by Henry,” he declared, ”I ain't heard you talk that way afore since you s.h.i.+pped aboard this General Minot craft along of me. That's the way you used to poke fun at me aboard the old _Wild Ranger_ when we was makin'
port after a good v'yage. What's happened to spruce you up so? Doctor ain't told you any special good news about them legs of yours, has he, Cap'n? Limpin' Moses, I wisht that was it.”
Sears shook his head. ”No, Judah,” he replied. ”No such luck as that.
It's just my natural foolishness, I guess. And I'm goin' to the theater to-night, too, all by myself. Think of it. Do you wonder I feel like a boy in his first pair of long trousers?”
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