"That little Master Gerald is a tiresome monkey," Josiah remarked. "He wouldn't sit still in the boat at first, though his mother kept on with him. At last his father spoke, an' after that, there was no need to tell him to be quiet again. Mr. Fowler looks a man as would have his own way."
"Master Gerald is very disobedient, I know," Salome said, "and sometimes his governess has great trouble with him. Miss Margaret says her mother spoils him."
"Then, 'tis a good job he's got a father who doesn't."
After dinner, Josiah went on with his interrupted work of mending his fishing nets, whilst Salome tidied up the cottage and waited for Silas Moyle.
The baker looked gratified as he took the half-crown the lame girl tendered him, for he had not expected to be paid even a small part of his account.
"That's right," he said, as he pocketed the money; "it appears I did some good by speaking yesterday. Look here, my dear, you must try to keep that father of yours up to the mark. Can't you make him stay at home of an evening?"
The little girl shook her head, and looked distressed as she replied, "I'm afraid not, Mr. Moyle."
"He's not at the 'Crab and Cockle' now, I s'pose?"
"No, he's on the beach mending his nets; and this morning he took Mr. and Mrs. Fowler and their little boy for a row in his boat."
"It's a pity Mr. Fowler can't get your father to his way of thinking—about drink, I mean. I say the new folks at Greystone set an example that many in Yelton might follow with advantage. Theirs is a teetotal household, I'm told."