attend to, and will go out for mackerel,
rowing if he cannot sail. He says there will _have_ to be a good
September hooking season, because, though the summer has been fair, the
fisherfolk have not succeeded in putting by enough money to last out
the winter, should the herrings fail to come into the bay, as they have
failed the last few years. I should like to _work_ at the mackerel
hooking with him. Indeed, although I am looking forward to a glorious
tramp across Dartmoor, yet I am more than half sorry that I have a room
bespoken at Prince Town for the day after to-morrow.

[1] A heavy stone used instead of an anchor over rocks, among
which an anchor might get stuck and lost.

[2] After the end of July, the mackerel are mostly caught not in
nets, but by trailing a line behind a sailing boat.

[Sidenote: _AN INOPPORTUNE REMARK_]

Putting aside one or two things that are unpleasant--a few
disagreeables resolutely faced--it is wonderful how rapidly one feels
at home here. The welcome, the goodfellowship, is so satisfying. This
morning, the visitor from the hotel, who has Mrs Widger's front
room, so far presumed on the fact that we were educated men among
uneducated--both gen'lemen, Tony would say--as to remark flippantly
though not ungenially, "The Widgers are not bad sorts, are they? I
say, what a mouth Mrs Widger's got!"

Mrs Widger has a noticeably wide mouth; I know that perfectly well; but
I can hardly say how indignant I felt at his light remark; how
insulted; as if he had spoken slightingly of someone belonging to me.

IV

PRINCE TOWN,
_August_.

1

When I took leave of the Widgers, there was the question of payment for
my board and lodging. We were just finishing breakfast; the children
had been driven out, Mrs Widger was resting awhile, and the table, the
whole kitchen, was in extreme disorder.

I asked Mrs Widger what I owed, and, as I had expected, she replied
only: "What you'm minded to pay."

"Three and six a day," I suggested.

"Not so much as that," said Mrs Widger. "'Tisn't like as if us could du
for 'ee like a proper lodging house."

"Don' 'ee think, Missis," said Tony, "as we might ask 'en jest to make
hisself welcome."

It was out of the question, of course. The mackerel season has been so
bad. Mrs Widger shot at Tony a look he failed to see