the Labrador," Tumm resumed, "an'
I was in a pother o' longin' t' go. Sixteen--an' never a sight o'
Mugford! I was fair ashamed t' look Bessie Tot in the eye. Dear
heart!--she ever loved courage in a man, an' the will t' labor, too,
an' t' be. An' so--'Ecod!' thinks I, on the way home that night, 'I'll
sail along o' Davy Junk, an' prove my spirit, withal, for the whole
world t' see. An' I 'low that _now_, knowin' me so well as he does,
Davy'll ship me.' But my mother said me nay--until I pestered her
skirts an' her poor heart beyond bearin'; an' then all at once she
cried, an' kissed me, an' cried a bit more, an' kissed me again, an'
hugged me, an' 'lowed that a lad had t' be a man _some_ time, whatever
happened, an' bade me sail along o' Skipper Davy an he'd take me,
which he never would do, thinks she. It come about, whatever an' all,
that I found Skipper Davy on the doorstep of his spick-an'-span
cottage by Blow-Me, near the close o' that day, with night fallin'
with poor promise, an' the wind adverse an' soggy with fog. An' thinks
I, his humor would be bad, an' he'd be cursin' the world an' the
weather an' all in the way he'd the bad habit o' doin'. But no such
thing; he was as near to a smile o' satisfaction with hisself as Davy
Junk could very well come with the bad habit o' lips an' brows he'd
contracted. For look you!--a scowl is a twist o' face with some men;
but with Davy his smile was a twist that had t' be _kep'_ twisted.

"'Evil weather, Skipper Davy,' says I.

"'Oh no,' says he. 'It all depends on how you _looks_ at it.'

"'But you're not in the habit o' lookin'----'

"'I'm learnin' t' peep,' says he.

"I'd no means of accountin' for _that_! 'Foul weather, an' no talkin',
man,' says I, 'for the Labrador bound!'

"'What's the sense o' naggin' the _weather_?' says he. 'Isn't you able
t' leave her alone, Tumm? Give her time, lad, an' she'll blow fair.
She've her humors as well as we, haven't she? An' she've her business,
too. An' how can _you_ tell whether her business is good or evil? I
tells you, Tumm, you isn't got no right t' question the weather.'

"'God's sake!' says I. 'What's happened overnight?'

"'No matter,' says he. 'I 'low a man haves the right t' _try_ a change
o' mind an he wants to.'

"'Parson Tree been overhaulin' you?'

"'Oh,' says he, 'a man can put his soul shipshape without the aid of a
parson.'

"'Then, Skipper Davy,' says I, with my heart in my mouth, 'I 'low I'll
sail the