“Allee samee comee manee namee Johnee,” announced Little Cherry Blossom. “Anybody heree knowee manee Johnee?”
Several did, of course, and John was soon undergoing cross-examination. He proved to be the cousin of Mrs. Hannah Peters' first husband who was drowned on the Grand Banks fifteen or sixteen years before. “John-ee” was, like so many of his kind, a bit shaky on names and dates but strong on generalities. However, everybody except the few skeptics from the Phipps' place seemed satisfied and made no embarrassing comments.
Everybody but Mr. Bloomer, that is; Zacheus, the philosopher who had studied his profession aboard a lightship, commented on everything. Sitting next Mr. Bangs, he put his lips close to the ear of the last-named gentleman and breathed caustic sarcasm into it. Galusha found it distracting and, at times, annoying, for Mr. Bloomer's mustache was bristly.
“Little Cherry Blossom talks's if she had a cold,” whispered Zach. “Better take a little cherry rum, hadn't she, eh?”
The control was loudly paging a person named Noah.
“Sperit heree wantee talkee with Noah,” she cried. “Wheree isee Noah?”
“'Board the Ark, most likely,” whispered Mr. Bloomer. “Be hollerin' for Jonah next, won't she? Cal'late so. Yus, yus.”
Message after message came and was recognized and acknowledged by the devout. The group from the Phipps' house had so far been slighted, so, too, had Captain Jethro Hallett. There was a slight hubbub in the circle, owing to the fact that two of its members simultaneously recognized and laid claim to the same spirit, each declaring him to be or have been an entirely different person when living. During this little controversy Zacheus whispered in his neighbor's ear.
“Say, Mr. Bangs,” he whispered, “this is gettin' kind of tiresome, ain't it? Must be worse for Nelse, though, eh?”
Galusha did not catch his meaning. “For—for whom?” he asked. “I beg your pardon.”