Still I would not speak. Tears almost were in his eyes.
"Now I may h've said some things on partickaler pesterin' 'casions in times past, but in general my verdick—hohum!—is fav'rable to female grass; 'specially—hohum! hohum!—wal, wal, ye knows my meanin', major—'specially with regards to red and white clover: hohum! how 's Vesty?"
The captain gave a sigh that would have exculpated him from the gravest of crimes, and looked steadfastly toward the west.
"I haven't seen her to-day."
"Ye'll think it over, won't ye, major?" said he, still with that far withdrawn vision.
"Well, yes; I'll think it over."
I had proceeded but a little way when he called me back.
"I had it on my mind to tell ye," said he, "when I heered 't ye'd been 'nvited down t' Aunt Gozeman's and Aunt Electry's t' tea; ef they give ye some o' their green melon an' ginger persarves, do ye manage to bestow 'em somewhar's without eatin' of 'em, somehow. They're amazin' proud an' ch'ice of 'em, an' ye don't want to hurt their feelin's, but ye'd better shove 'em right outer the sasser inter yer britches pocket 'n eat 'em—leastways that 's the way they 'fected me."
Visions of a past mortal suffering flitted across Captain Pharo's face.
"I'll try," I said.