“You wrote when you was without a cent and wanted to get money from me. You didn't write before. Let me be, Emily; you don't know what I've gone through on account of him and now he comes sneakin' into my house in the middle of the night, without a word that he was comin', sneakin' in like a thief and frightenin' us half to death and—”
Jedediah interrupted. “Sneakin' in!” he repeated, with a desperate move of his hands. “I had to sneak in. I was scairt to come in when you was up and awake. I knew you'd be down on me like a thousand of brick. I—I—Oh, you don't know what I've been through, Thankful, or you'd pity me, 'stead of pitchin' into me like this. I've been a reg'lar tramp—that's what I've been, a tramp. Freezin' and starvin' and workin' in bar-rooms! Why, I beat my way on a freight train all the way here from New Bedford, and I've been hidin' out back of the house waitin' for you to go to bed, so's I'd dare come in.”
“So's you'd dare come in! What did you want to come in for if I wa'n't here?”
“I wanted to leave a note for you, that's why. I wanted to leave a note and—and that.”
He pointed to the ring and the bit of tissue paper on the table. Thankful took up the paper first and read aloud what was written upon it.
“For Thankful, with a larst merry Christmas from brother Jed. I am going away and if you want me I will be at New Bedford for two weeks, care the bark Finback.”
“'I am goin' away',” repeated Thankful. “Goin' away? Are you goin' away AGAIN?”
“I—I was cal'latin' to. I'm goin' cook on a whaler.”
“Cook! You a cook! And,” she took up the ring and stared at it, “for the land sakes, what's this?”
“It's a present I bought for you. Took my last two dollar bill, it did. I wanted you to have somethin' to remember me by.”