“‘Is you?’ says I.
“‘Ay,’ says he. ‘Jagger says ’tis a wonderful season for fish.’”
Docks paused. “Skipper Billy,” he said, breaking off the narrative and fixing the impassive skipper of the Greased Lightning with an anxious eye, “did they have the smallpox at Tops’l Cove? Come now; did they?”
“Ay, sir,” Skipper Billy replied; “they had the smallpox at Tops’l Cove.”
“Dear man!” Docks repeated, “they had the smallpox at Tops’l Cove! We was three days at Tops’l Cove, with folk aboard every day, tradin’ fish. An’ Tommy Mib below! We touched Smith’s Arm next, sir. Come now, speak fair; did they have it there?”
“They’re not rid of it yet,” said Doctor Luke.
“Smith’s Arm too!” Docks groaned.
“An’ Harbour Rim,” the skipper added.
“Noon t’ noon at Harbour Rim,” said Docks.
“And Highwater Cove,” the doctor put in.