“No, why should I? She knows perfectly well when the time is out, and she’s had time to get the money. If she’s got it, well and good, but if she hasn’t, she can’t complain. Oh, there’s young Shelton,” said the landlord, looking out of the window.
“I’ll call him and see if we can make a bargain about renting the cottage.”
“Frank Shelton!” called out Mr. Jones, raising the window.
The young fisherman paused.
“Come in; I want to speak to you.”
Frank Shelton turned in from the street and the landlord commenced his attack.
“Frank, folks say you’re thinkin’ of gettin’ married?”
“Maybe I shall,” said the young man bashfully.
“Whereabouts do you cal’late to live?”
“Well, I don’t know any place.”