"So it is. Will Rob let 'em ripen this year, I wonder?"
"I dare say not.... So you've met the great Jenks at last."
"Never shake hands with him. Remember the bosun Joe Day? Died at the Indies—smallpox, Mr. Dyckman said. I was fond of Joe Day—made me think of Jesse Plum, the tales he could tell.... What's Kate contriving that smells so good all over the house?"
"Roast goose, O wanderer."
"And what's up with Hibbs? Ha'n't seen him since I got home."
"Sulking. Benjamin, stand forth! You ask me, what of Gideon Hibbs; you ask, oh, where is he? Hibbs Pontifex hath gone to roost, with a book upon his knee."
"Upstairs?"
"Next door."
"All lank and lean?"
"Ay—dreaming of roast goose."