“Shoos he looked like he’d give up for good on the spot––just like he knowed he was a fool, an’ had knowed it for a long, long time––sort o’ like he was sorry for we an’ sick of hisself.
“‘Cook,’ says the skipper, ‘you went an’ done it agin. Yes, you did! Don’t you go denyin’ of it. You’ll kill us, cook,’ says he, ‘if you goes on like this. They isn’t nothin’ worse for the system,’ says he, ‘than this here burned water. The almanacs,’ says he, shakin’ his finger at the poor cook, ‘’ll tell you that!’
“‘I ’low I did burn that water, skipper,’ says the cook, ‘if you says so. But I isn’t got all my wits,’ says he; ’an’ God knows I’m doin’ my best!’
“‘I always did allow, cook,’ says the skipper, ‘that God knowed more’n I ever thunk.’
“‘An’ I never did burn no water,’ says the cook, ‘afore I shipped along o’ you in this here ol’ flour-sieve of a Quick as Wink.’
“‘This here what?’ snaps the skipper.
“‘This here ol’ basket,’ says the cook.
“‘Basket!’ says the skipper. Then he hummed a bit o’ ‘Fishin’ for the Maid I Loves,’ ’ithout thinkin’ much about the toon. ‘Cook,’ says he ‘I loves you. You is 249 on’y a half-witted chance-child,’ says he, ‘but I loves you like a brother.’
“‘Does you, skipper?’ says the cook, with a nice, soft little smile, like the poor fool he was. ‘I isn’t by no means hatin’ you, skipper,’ says he. ‘But I can’t help burnin’ the water,’ says he, ‘an’ I ’low it fair hurts me t’ get blame for it. I’m sorry for you an’ the crew,’ says he, ‘an’ I wisht I hadn’t took the berth. But when I shipped along o’ you,’ says he, ‘I ’lowed I could cook, for mother always told me so, an’ I ’lowed she knowed. I’m doin’ my best, anyhow, accordin’ t’ how she’d have me do, an’ I ’low if the water gets scarched,’ says he, ‘the galley fire’s bewitched.’
“‘Basket!’ says the skipper. ‘Ay, ay, cook,’ says he. ‘I just loves you.’