“Well, no,” said the merchant.
“Umph!” said Ichabod Sterns again, leaning back on his chair and rubbing his hands slowly one over the other.
“Well, what of that?” said Master Torrey, a little taken aback.
“Oh, nothing, sir,” said Ichabod; “we have wandered a long way from the name of the new brig.”
“She shall be The Sea-nymph,” said Master Torrey with decision. “What could be better?”
“I thought, Master Torrey, you might have liked to call her the Anna Jane,” said Ichabod, with a little cracked laugh like an amused crow.
Master Torrey colored high, but not with displeasure.
“I wouldn’t venture, Ichabod, I wouldn’t dare. She’s too shy, too modest, to be pleased with such an open compliment.”
“Umph!” said the clerk again. It seemed to be a way he had. “But you are determined to call her The Sea-nymph, Master Torrey?”
“Ah, am I!” replied Torrey, who seemed by no means disposed to pursue the subject of the “inexpressive she,” whoever it might be. “And she shall have the handsomest figure-head that Job Chippit can carve; and it sha’n’t be a mere head and shoulders either, it shall be a full-length figure.”