ied, "I'd say that she might
have a touch more o' color in her cheeks t' match my notion o'
beauty."

"A bit too pallid t' suit your delicate notion o' beauty!" Skipper
John scoffed. "Well, well!"

"I knows rosier maids than she."

"I've no doubt of it. 'Tis a pity the good Lord's handiwork can't be
remedied t' suit you. Mm-mm! Well, well! An' is there anything else
out o' the way with God Almighty's idea o' what a fair maid looks
like?"

"Dang me!" Dickie protested again. "I isn't denyin' that she's fair!"

"No; but----"

"Ah, well, isn't I got a right t' my notions? What's the harm in
admirin' rosy cheeks? Isn't nothin' the matter with rosy cheeks, is
there?"

"They fade, my son."

"I knows that well enough, sir," Dickie declared; "but they're pretty
while they last. An' I'd never be the man t' complain, sir, when they
faded. You'd not think so ill o' me as all that, would you?"

"You'd not--complain when they faded?"

"I'd not shame my honor so!"

"Ah, well, Dick," said Skipper John, having reflected a moment upon
this fine, honest sentiment, "'tis not the pallid cheeks o' the maid
that trouble you. I knows you well, an' I knows what the trouble is.
The maid has been frank enough t' leave you see that she cares for
you. She've no wiles to entangle you with; an' I 'low that she'd
despise the use o' them anyhow. Did she cast her line with cunnin',
she'd hook you soon enough; but that she'll never do, my son--she's
too proud an' honest for that. Ay; that's it--too innocent t' conceal
her feelin's an' too proud to ensnare you. You was always the lad,
Dick, t' scorn what you could have an' crave that which was beyond
your reach. Do you mind the time when you took over the little
_Robin's Wing_ from Trader Tom Jenkins for the Labrador fishin'? She
was offered you on fair credit, an' you found fault with the craft an'
the terms, an' dawdled an' complained, until Trader Tom offered her t'
Long George Long o' Hide-an'-Seek Harbor; an' then you went flyin' t'
Trader Tom's office, with your heart in your mouth, lest you lose the
chance afore you got there. Had Trader Tom withheld the _Robin's
Wing_, you would have clamored your voice hoarse t' get her. Speak me
fair, now--is you sorry you took the _Robin's Wing_?"

"I isn't."

"Is you ever repented a minute?"

"No, sir. Why should I?"

"Then there's a hint for your stupidity in that matter. Take the maid
an' be done with it. God be thanked I isn't a widowe