"Mercy on us! Why—! Why, he—he must 'a' been goin'"—began Abbie.
"—to see The Widder," Rebecca interrupted, completing the sentence.
"I'd no notion he was tendin' up to her," Abbie said.
"Wal, he warn't 'xactly tendin' up to her—least-way, not today. Not what you could really call tendin' up," contradicted Zenas Henry, a twinkle in his eye. "Rather, I'd say 'twas t'other way round. Wouldn't you, Lemmy? Wouldn't you say that instead 'twas she who tended up to him?"
Sagaciously, Lemuel bowed.
The tapping of Abbie's foot precipitated the remainder of the story.
"You see," drawled on Zenas Henry, "no sooner had Charlie got into the boat an' pulled out into the channel than he had the usual beginner's luck an' hooked a stragglin' bluefish—one of the pert kind that ain't fer bein' hauled in. Law! You'd oughter seen that critter pull! He 'most had Charlie out of the boat.
"I shouted to him to hang on an' so did Lemmy. We couldn't help it. The idiot had no more notion what to do than the man in the moon.
"In our excitement, we must 'a' bellered louder'n we meant to, 'cause in no time The Widder popped outer the house. She took one look at Charlie strugglin' in the boat, raced down to the landin' an' put out to him just about at the minute he was waverin' as to whether he'd chuck pole, line, an' sinker overboard, or go overboard himself.
"Quicker'n scat she had the fish-pole, an' while we looked on, Charlie dropped down kinder limp on the seat of the boat an' begun tyin' up his hand in a spandy clean pocket handkerchief while The Widder gaffed the fish an' hauled it in."