day. Hang the morrow! says he; the morrow might
do very well, he'd be bound, when it come. Show _him_ the fun o' the
minute. An' he had a laugh t' shame the dumps--a laugh as catchin' as
smallpox. 'Ecod!' thinks I; 'it may very well be that Sam Small will
smile.' A brave an' likely lad: with no fear o' the devil
hisself--nor overmuch regard, I'm thinkin', for the chastisements o'
God Almighty--but on'y respect for the wish of his own little mother,
who was God enough for he. 'What!' says he; 'we're never goin' t' sea
with Sam Small. Small Sam Small? Sam Small, the skinflint?' But he
took a wonderful fancy t' Small Sam Small; an' as for Skipper
Sammy--why--Skipper Sammy loved the graceless rogue on sight. 'Why,
Tumm,' says he, 'he's jus' like a gentleman's son. Why 'tis--'tis
like a nip o' rum--'tis as good as a nip o' the best Jamaica--t' clap
eyes on a fair, fine lad like that. Is you marked his eyes,
Tumm?--saucy as blood an' riches. They fair bored me t' the soul like
Sir Harry McCracken's. They's blood behind them eyes--blood an' a
sense o' wealth. An' his strut! Is you marked the strut, Tumm?--the
very air of a game-cock in a barnyard. It takes a gentleman born t'
walk like that. I tells you, Tumm, with wealth t' back un--with
wealth t' back body an' brain an' blue blood like that--the lad would
be a lawyer at twenty-three an' Chief Justice o' Newf'un'land at
thirty-seven. You mark _me_!'

"I'm thinkin', whatever, that Small Sam Small had the natural
prejudice o' fatherhood.

"'Tumm,' says he, 'he's cheered me up. Is he savin'?'

"'Try for yourself,' says I.

"Skipper Sammy put the boy t' the test, next night, at the Anchor an'
Chain. 'Lad,' says he, 'here's the gift o' half a dollar.'

"'For _me_, Skipper Sammy?' says the lad. ''Tis as much as ever I had
in my life. Have a drink.'

"'Have a _what_?'

"'You been wonderful good t' me, Skipper Sammy,' says the lad, 'an' I
wants t' buy you a glass o' good rum.'

"'Huh!' says Small Sam Small; ''tis expensive.'

"'Ay,' says the lad; 'but what's a half-dollar _for_?'

"'Well,' says Skipper Sammy, 'a careful lad like you _might_ save it.'

"The poor lad passed the half-dollar back over the table t' Small Sam
Small. 'Skipper Sammy,' says he, '_you_ save it. It fair burns my
fingers.'

"'Mary, my dear,' says Sam Small t' the barmaid, 'a couple o' nips o'
the best Jamaica you got in the house for me an' Mr. Tumm. Fetch the
lad a bottle o' ginger-ale--_im_-po