he knows how t' spend. I made my fortune, Tumm, as I
made it; an' I'm glad--I'm proud--I'm mighty proud--that my son will
spend it like a gentleman. I loves un. An' you, Tumm, will teach un
wisdom an' kindness, accordin' t' your lights. That's all, Tumm: I've
no more t' say.' Pretty soon, though, he run on: 'I been a mean man.
But I'm not overly sorry now: for hunger an' hardship will never teach
my son evil things o' the world God made. I 'low, anyhow,' says he,
'that God is even with me. But I don't know--I don't know.' You see,"
Tumm reflected, "'tis wisdom t' _get_ an' t' _have_, no doubt; but
'tis not the whole o' wisdom, an' 'tis a mean poor strand o' Truth t'
hang the weight of a life to. Maybe, then," he continued, "Small Sam
Small fell asleep. I don't know. He was quite still. I waited with un
till twilight. 'Twas gray weather still--an' comin' on a black night.
The ship pitched like a gull in the spent swell o' the gale. Rain
fell, I mind. Maybe, then, Skipper Sammy didn't quite know what he was
sayin'. Maybe not. I don't know. 'Tumm,' says he, 'is you marked his
eyes? Blood back o' them eyes, sir--blood an' a sense o' riches. His
strut, Tumm!' says he. 'Is you marked the strut? A little game-cock,
Tumm--a gentleman's son, every pound an' inch of un! A fine, fair lad.
My lad, sir. An' he's a free an' genial spender, God bless un!'

"Skipper Sammy," Tumm concluded, "died that night."

[Illustration: "We found Skipper Sammy squatted on a pan of
ice."]

The gale was still blowing in Right-an'-Tight Cove of the Labrador,
where the schooner _Quick as Wink_ lay at anchor: a black gale of fall
weather.

"Tumm," the skipper of the _Quick as Wink_ demanded, "what become o'
that lad?"

"Everybody knows," Tumm answered.

"What!" the skipper ejaculated; "you're never tellin' me he's the
Honor----"

"I is," Tumm snapped, impatiently. "He's the Honorable Samuel Small,
o' St. John's. 'If I'm goin' t' use my father's fortune,' says he,
'I'll wear his name.'"

"'Twas harsh," the skipper observed, "on the mother."

"No-o-o," Tumm drawled; "not harsh. She never bore no grudge against
Small Sam Small--not after the baby was born. She was jus' a common
ordinary woman."

* * * * *

IX

AN IDYL OF RICKITY TICKLE

* * * * *

IX

AN IDYL OF RICKITY TICKLE

No fish at Whispering Islands: never a quintal--never so much as