you
goin' t' take un?'

"'I wathn't thinkin' o' that,' says she. 'I wathn't thinkin' o' _not_.
I wath jutht,' says she, 'wonderin'.'

"'They isn't no sense in that, Liz,' says I. 'You just wait an' find
out.'

"'What'th hith name?' says she.

"'Shoos,' says I. 'Moses Shoos.'

"With that she up with her pinny an' begun t' cry like a young swile.

"'What you cryin' for, Liz?' says I.

"I 'low I couldn't tell what 'twas all about. But she was like all the
women. Lord! 'tis the little things that makes un weep when it comes
t' the weddin'.

"'Come, Liz,' says I, 'what you cryin' about?'

"'I lithp,' says she.

"'I knows you does, Liz,' says I; 'but it ain't nothin' t' cry
about.'

"'I can't say Joneth,' says she.

"'No,' says I; 'but you'll be changin' your name,' says I, 'an' it
won't matter no more.'

"'An' if I can't say Joneth,' says she, 'I can't thay--'

"'Can't say what?' says I.

"'Can't thay Thooth!' says she.

"Lord! No more she could. An' t' say Moses Shoos! An' t' say Mrs.
Moses Shoos! Lord! It give me a pain in the tongue t' think of it.

"'Jutht my luck,' says she; 'but I'll do my betht.'

"So we went back an' told poor Moses Shoos that he didn't have t'
worry no more about gettin' a wife; an' he said he was more glad than
sorry, an', says he, she'd better get her bonnet, t' go aboard an' get
married right away. An' she 'lowed she didn't want no bonnet, but
_would_ like to change her pinny. So we said we'd as lief wait a
spell, though a clean pinny wasn't _needed_. An' when she got back,
the cook said he 'lowed the skipper could marry un well enough 'til we
overhauled a real parson; an' she thought so, too, for, says she,
'twouldn't be longer than a fortnight, an' _any_ sort of a weddin',
says she, would do 'til then. An' aboard we went, the cook an' me
pullin' the punt, an' she steerin'; an' the cook he crowed an' cackled
all the way, like a half-witted rooster; but the maid didn't even
cluck, for she was too wonderful solemn t' do anything but look at the
moon.

"'Skipper,' said the cook, when we got in the fo'c's'le, 'here she is.
_I_ isn't afeared,' says he, 'an' _she_ isn't afeared; an' now I 'lows
we'll have you marry us.'

"Up jumps the skipper; but he was too much s'prised t' say a word.

"'An' I'm thinkin',' says the cook, with a nasty little wink, such as
never I seed afore get into the eyes o' Moses Shoos, 'that they isn't
a man in this here fo'c's'le,' says he, 'will _