"
"What a stingy pam he was to give you only ten!" Joe Johnson exclaimed,
with disgust. "Ain't I a better friend to ye? Yer, take the money
_now_!"
He pressed the gold pieces ostentatiously upon the boy, who looked at
them with fear, yet fascination.
"What am I to do to earn all this, Mr. Johnson?"
"You comes with me fur a week,--you an' yer boat. I charters you at that
figger!"
"But--mother?"
"Well, when we discharge pigwidgeon, your friend with the bell
shape--Jack Sheep yer--all you got to do, Levin, is to send the hard
cole to your mother by him, sayin', 'Bless you, marm; my wages will
excoos my face!'"
"Oh, yes, that will do. Mother will know by the money that I have got a
long job, and not be a 'spectin' of me. When do we sail, cap'n?"
"How fur is it to Prencess Anne? What time to-night kin you make it?"
Levin stepped out of the shanty and looked at the wind and water, his
pulses all a-flutter between the strong brandy and the wonderful gold in
his pocket; and as he watched the veering of the pine-boughs to see
which way they moved, their moaning seemed to be the voice of his
widowed mother by her kitchen fire that day, saying, "He is in trouble.
Where is my son? Why stays he, O my Levin?"
"The tide is on the stand, cap'n, an' will turn in half an hour. It will
take us up the Manokin with this wind by dark, ef we can get water
enough in the thoroughfare without going around by Little Deil's.
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