I laughed. "I'd rather have the land than the sea all the year round," I said; "but I should like to taste the salt again."
"I've my shrimpin' to do," said he. "And we can't go afore the turn o' the tide, anyhow."
"All right," answered I. "I'll wait a bit."
"There won't be more than a handful of codling and p'r'aps a sole," declared the old man, doubtfully.
"Never mind," answered I.
"How's the old chap up at the farm?" said he, as he was moving off. One might have imagined that he meant Reuben, but I knew well enough that he meant father.
"Father's well," I said.
"He have got a bailiff to look after the place now, haven't he?" asked Eben. "Don't work very well, do it?"
"Why, yes; it works all right," said I.