"'Cos there's a gale a-getting up as'll perwent you, young freshwater," replied the tar. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. "As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. It was interesting to see how different and characteristic his mode of approach was to all sorts of questions that interested her, and it was amusing to discover this other side to the life of a Morningside Park inhabitant. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand.
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