"'We spied you from the head,' says he—an' sighed. 'It gives me a turn, lad, t' see you so sudden. But I'm wonderful glad you've come.'
"'Glad?' says I. 'Then look glad, ye crab!' An' I fetched un a clap on the back.
"'Ouch!' says he. 'Don't, Tumm!'
"'I congratulate you,' says I.
"'Mm-m?' says he. 'Oh, ay! Sure, lad.' No smile, mark you. An' he looked off t' sea, as he spoke, an' then down at his boots, like a man in shame. 'Ay,' says he, brows down, voice gone low an' timid. 'Congratulate me, does you? Sure. That's proper—maybe.'
"'Nineteenth o' the month,' says I.
"'That's God's truth, Tumm.'
"'An' I'm come, ecod,' says I, 't' celebrate the first birthday o' Tobias Tumm Mull!'
"'First birthday,' says he. 'That's God's truth.'
"'Isn't there goin' t' be no celebration?'