llao. The climate was unhealthy,
the ports were foul, the government was uncertain, the dangers were
constant, and the hands above him dropped off rapidly. In two years Davy
was skipper, and in three years more he was sailing a steamer of his
own. Then the money began to tumble into his chest like crushed oats out
of a Crown's shaft.

The first hundred pounds he had saved he sent home to Dumbell's bank,
because he could not trust it out of the Isle of Man. But the hundreds
grew to thousands, and the thousands to tens of thousands, and to send
all his savings over the sea as he made them began to be slow work, like
supping porridge with a pitchfork. He put much of it away in paper rolls
at the bottom of his chest in the cabin, and every roll he put by stood
to him for something in the Isle of Man. "That's a new cowhouse at
Ballavolly." "That's Balladry." "That's ould Brew's mill at Sulby--he'll
be out by this time."

All his dreams were of coming home, and sometimes he wrote letters to
Nelly. The writing in them was uncertain, and the spelling was doubtful,
but the love was safe enough. And when he had poured out his heart
in small "i's" and capital "U's"? he always inquired how more material
things were faring. "How's the herrings this sayson; and did the men do
well with the mack'rel at Kinsale; and is the cowhouse new thatched, and
how's the chapel going? And is the ould man still playing hang with the
texes?"

Kinvig heard of Davy's prosperity, and received the news at first in
silence, then with satisfaction, and at length with noisy pride. His boy
was a bould fellow. "None o' yer randy-tandy-tissimee-tea tied to the
old mawther's apron-strings about _him_. He's coming home rich, and
he'll buy half the island over, and make a donation of a harmonia to the
chapel, and kick ould Cowley and his fiddle out."

Awaiting that event, Kinvig sent Nelly to England, to be educated
according to the station she was about to fill. Nelly was four years in
Liverpool, but she had as many breaks for visits home. The first time
she came she minced her words affectedly, and Kinvig whispered the
mother that she was getting "a fine English tongue at her." The second
time she came she plagued everybody out of peace by correcting their
"plaze" to "please," and the "mate" to "meat," and the "lave" to
"leave." The third time she came she was silent, and looked ashamed: and
the fourth time it was to meet her sweetheart on his return home