I was
thinkin' about it this mornin' as I was cleanin' me boot. Wives cleans
boots. I 'm the sort o' sailorman she would be sure ter like.

DARLIN': And what about the pub?

DUKE: Blast me stump, Darlin', I 'll not ferget yer.

DARLIN': Does I get brass beer-pulls in the tap?

DUKE: Everythin' shiny.

DARLIN': I 'm lovin' yer.

DUKE: Betsy would kinder jump at me. There 's somethin' tender about a
young girl's first love--cooin' in yer arms.

DARLIN': Easy, Duke!

DUKE: I alers was a fav'rite with the ladies. I think it 's me
whiskers.

DARLIN': 'Vast there, Duke! There 's a shoal ahead. Red Joe 's a right
smart feller.

DUKE: Red Joe?

DARLIN': Him. He sets and watches her.

DUKE: What can she see in a young feller like that?

DARLIN': Women 's queer folks. They 're wicious wampires. Jest yer
watch 'em together. Red Joe 's snoopin' in on yer.

DUKE: Yer can blast me. He ain 't got whiskers.

DARLIN': I 'm tellin' yer, Duke. If I was you I 'd tumble that Red Joe
off a cliff. I 'm hintin' to yer, Duke. Off a cliff! (_She sniffs
audibly._) It 's the pig. I clean fergot the pig. It 's burnin' on the
fire. Off a cliff! I 'm hintin' to yer.

(_She runs to the kitchen._)

DUKE: Red Joe! Women 's queer--queerer than mermaids. A snooper! Jest
a 'prentice pirate! No whiskers! Nothin'!

(_At this moment there is a stamping of feet outside and Patch-Eye
enters with Red Joe._

_If Red Joe were born a gentleman we might expect silver buckles and a
yellow feather to trail across his shoulder, for he bears a jaunty
dignity. His is a careless grace--the swagger of a pleasant
vagabond--a bravado that snaps its fingers at danger. His body has the
quickness of a cat, his eye a flash of humor--kindly, unless necessity
sharpens it. As poets were thick in those golden days we suspect that
the roar of the ocean sets rhymes jingling in his heart. He is,
however, almost as shabby as the other pirates, although he wears no
pigtail. His collar is turned up. He wrings the water from his hat._

_Patch-Eye throws himself on the seaman's chest and falls asleep at
once. He snores an obligato to our scene. Just once an ugly dream
disturbs him and we must fancy that a gibbet has crossed the frightful
shadow of his thoughts._)

DUKE: Evenin', ol' sea-serpent! Where has you been?

JOE: Up at the lighthouse. It 's as mirky as hell's back door.

DUKE: See Petey?

JOE: I did. He was puttering with his light and meowing to his