[[1]] Shake hands.
Down Greenwich way, where fishing smacks were moored by dozens above the Hospital, mother set out the dinner, handing the food and the beer to Bill as he squatted on the tiller head. The southwesterly wind made lively water, and the barge had a bone in her teeth as she swept down the reaches. Chill was the air under the purple shadows of the clouds, warm when the sun shone on the pale green river, the dark green meadows, and trees in autumn russet or sere gold. Tall ships were running free and shaking out more canvas. Little paddle steamers crept along inshore sneaking through back-waters, or crawling inch by inch where the ebb set against them at the headlands. There were six hundred steamers in Lloyd's List, but mother doubted if these would have God's blessing. They were not mentioned in the Holy Scripture. As to railways, and there was one which ran from Bristol to Paddington within a mile of London, there could be no good in headlong gallivanting at twenty miles an hour, disturbing the good kine, affrighting the birds whose songs in God's great honor were changed to shrieks, and doing away with the horses which England needs in her defense from the French and other savages.
Bill quite agreed, but all the same, when next they had a freight to Whitsable, the driver of the Canterbury train had promised him a journey, firing the engine.
Mother sighed. "The things of this yere world which shall perish, draws thee away, my son, from them which endureth forever."
"But I can't see," he answered, "these yere things which ain't wisible."
"Dost thee think," she answered, looking across the waters, far into the distance—"dost think I like livin' aboard of this dirty boat, with me 'ands filthy always, in the sty down there with that pig? Thinkest thee as I enjoys doing work far past a woman's strength, and cursing like a bargee when them sea-lubbers fouls me?"
"Don't you?" asked Bill. "Own up, mum!"
"Humph!" She glanced at him with one eye, trying not to smile with that side of her mouth. "Perhaps," she said, "I be woman enough to like the last word—and they don't get much change out of me—Christ forgive a sinner! But smuggling hain't honest, either, Bill, nor paying bribes. I'd like to be honest and live in a house. But them as goeth down to the sea in ships and hoccupies their business in great waters, them see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. Thinkest thee as I sees none of all them wonders, Bill? Enter in by the gate of meditation, son, and thee shalt see as I does things as no words can tell of. Canst thee not believe thy mother?"
"I never done till yesterday," said Bill, "but all wot I seen in that dream, when I vos Storm, and Rain she showed me—mammie, I does believe."
"Wilt be baptized?"