The rain—it had actually begun to rain a little—was on Wardwell's mind apparently, for he began a fresh story with:
"Do you remember the time of the Flood, Mrs. Wilding?"
"Well—not quite, Mr. Jimmie." And Augusta could almost feel her mother's amused chuckle through the dark. She had always loved fun. And although she herself did not talk a great deal she had always liked to hear the laughter and nonsense of young folks around her.
"Well, you know, that time, McCarty was up a tree. And along comes Noah, sailing, decks awash, and the rain pouring down in gutters.
"'Are ye takin' anny Irish this trip, Sor?' says McCarty.
"Noah looks at him with a weary eye. Says he, sorrowfully:
"'I am a sea-faring man, by preoccupation. I have on board two thousand, three hundred eighty one married couples. The name of this ship is Trouble. Irish—' he muttered '—Irish?'
"'Oh, have a heart, Noah,' says McCarty. 'Sure wan more can do little harm. Take me on.'
"'I wont,' says Noah.
"'You oant?' says McCarty.