Adventure, November 1915 — page 190: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

188 for an hour or two, so I think J’ll put him back in the messroom where he’ll be safe out of ’arm’s way.” As the chief engineer of the Yarmouth walked down the gangplank on to the wharf, Mr. Sullivan gave a short laugh. “That’s a quare, ill-tempered little rat of aman, Sammy. An insolent little devil, too! Bliss him! He’d be brakin’ his heart if annything should happen to that—that cockatoo of his. He would so.” “Makes me sick,” agreed Mr. Higgins. *A Saint Andrew’s humbug! How any- one can see any good in a canary bird beats me altogether! You know Mrs. Bartlett that has the store on the water-front, don’t you? She’s a partic’ler friend of mine, is Mrs. Bartlett, but she’s as crazy about canaries as the chief is. The back of her place is just thick with ’°em. I can’t under- stand it myself, not on any account.” “N’more do I,” said Mr. Sullivan. “T’d give all the canary birds in the world for a drink of beer,” went on the second engineer, stifling a yawn. “Got anything you could sell?” he asked. : “Not a blissed thing,” said Mr. Sullivan. For a long time neither the mate nor the second engineer spoke, and there fell upon the ship a deep and solemn silence broken only by the distant hooting of the ferry- boats and the tolling of an engine bell. And then, without warning, Mr. Higgins slid gracefully to his feet. “Dan,” said he, “let’s be goin’ ashore.” MR. SULLIVAN inspected him from head to foot gravely. = “Of course! On a five-cint piece an’ two penny postage stamps! Me, I’m goin’ to turn in early, an’ git more sleep than I did lasht night.” “Come on,” persisted the second engi- neer. “You don’t know what you'll be missin’ if you don’t.” “T always did say that the English had no sinse of humor,” said Mr. Sullivan. ‘‘What you’re needin’ most is a musthard poultice on yer chest.” “You go an’ get a clean collar on an’ wash your face, you big, fat-headed Fenian, That’s what you need—an’ badly.” “Cliver little man!” continued Mr. Sulli- ‘van, quite unmoved by any insult. ‘‘Hand- some too, barrin’ the shape of his nose an’ the size of his ears.” 7 “You do as I say,” said the second Adventure : ~ engineer. “I know where I can lay hold of some money, Dan. I’m not jokin’; I swear I’m not. You go an’ get your brand new little green hat with. the bow at the back of it. PlI—TDlIl be ready just as soon as ever I’ve changed my clothes.” Having sailed with Mr. Higgins for three eventful years, and knowing him very thoroughly, the mate was puzzled. ““You mane it?”’ he asked. “T do,” retorted Mr. Higgins. so, didn’t I?” Only half-persuaded, Mr. Sullivan went to his own room, and in less than ten min- utes’ time was meekly following the second engineer up the wharf. “Sammy,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt yer feelin’s in the laste, but wouldn’t it be as well to make certain about that money?” The second engineer, whose hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his coat, spoke forcibly, yet without heat. “Now, look here, Dan Sullivan, you dry up! All you’ve got to do is to keep your big mouth shut an’ let me do the talkin’.” ‘“‘Where’re ye goin’, then?” said Mr. Sullivan uneasily. “Mrs. Bartlett’s. So now you know.” They made their way quickly along East Street in the direction of the Ferry build- ing, and then crossed the car tracks and stopped in front of a small, shabby dry goods store, wedged in between‘ a saloon and a cheap restaurant. . “Dry goods, is it?” said Mr. Sullivan. ‘‘But where in the world did ye iver see the likes o’ this collection of rubbish?” For while the window on the right con- tained nothing more romantic than flannel shirts, overalls, gentlemen’s underwear, neckties, collars and socks, the window on the left was crowded with carven idols from the South Seas, coral necklaces, ivory fans and boxes, rings, bangles, coins, curved daggers, revolvers, abalone shells, models “T said of old-time windjammers and such like, and on either side of the narrow doorway hung yellow oilskins and sea boots. “Don’t stand theorizin’ there all night, Dan,” said Mr. Higgins sharply. “‘Let’s get it over an’ done with as soon as possible.” A large, stout, placid lady with black hair and rosy cheeks smiled at them across the counter. “Well,” she said, “What is it now? Buyin’ or sellin’?”’ “You’ve met Mr. Sullivan, haven’t you, Gomicbooks (E@)