THE CAPTAIN. (chuckling) And that mission woman, she hails me on the dock as I was acomin’ ashore, and she says—with her silly face all screwed up serious as judgment—“Captain,” she says, “would you be so kind as to tell me where the sea-gulls sleeps at nights?” Blow me if them warn’t her exact words! (He slaps the table with the palm of his hands and laughs loudly. The others force smiles) Ain’t that just like a fool woman’s question? And I looks at her serious as I could, “Ma’m,” says I, “I couldn’t rightly answer that question. I ain’t never seed a sea-gull in his bunk yet. The next time I hears one snorin’,” I says, “I’ll make a note of where he’s turned in, and write you a letter ’bout it.” And then she calls me a fool real spiteful and tacks away from me quick. (He laughs again uproariously) So I got rid of her that way. (The others smile but immediately relapse into expressions of gloom again).
MRS. MAYO. (absent-mindedly—feeling that she has to say something) But when it comes to that, where do sea-gulls sleep, Dick?
SCOTT. (slapping the table) Ho! Ho! Listen to her, James. ’Nother one! Well, if that don’t beat all hell—’scuse me for cussin’, Kate.
MAYO. (with a twinkle in his eyes) They unhitch their wings, Katey, and spreads ’em out on a wave for a bed.
SCOTT. And then they tells the fish to whistle to ’em when it’s time to turn out. Ho! Ho!
MRS. MAYO. (with a forced smile) You men folks are too smart to live, aren’t you? (She resumes her knitting. MAYO pretends to read his paper; ANDREW stares at the floor).
SCOTT. (looks from one to the other of them with a puzzled air. Finally he is unable to bear the thick silence a minute longer, and blurts out): You folks look as if you was settin’ up with a corpse. (With exaggerated concern) God A’mighty, there ain’t anyone dead, be there?
MAYO. (sharply) Don’t play the dunce, Dick! You know as well as we do there ain’t no great cause to be feelin’ chipper.
SCOTT. (argumentatively) And there ain’t no cause to be wearin’ mourning, either, I can make out.
MRS. MAYO. (indignantly) How can you talk that way, Dick Scott, when you’re taking our Robbie away from us, in the middle of the night, you might say, just to get on that old boat of yours on time! I think you might wait until morning when he’s had his breakfast.