“'Skipper,' said the cook, when we got in the fo'c's'le, 'here she is. I isn't afeared,' says he, 'and she isn't afeared; an' now I 'low we'll have you marry us.'
“Up jumps the skipper; but he was too much s'prised t' say a word.
“'An' I'm thinkin',' says the cook, with a nasty little wink, 'that they isn't a man in this here fo'c's'le,' says he, 'will say I'm afeared.'
“'Cook,' says the skipper, takin' the cook's hand, 'shake! I never knowed a man like you afore,' says he. 'T' my knowledge, you're the on'y man in the Labrador fleet would do it. I'm proud,' says he, 't' take the hand o' the man with nerve enough t' marry Walrus Liz o' Whoopin' Harbor.'
“The devil got in the eyes o' the cook—a jumpin' little brimstone devil, ecod!
“'Ay, lad,' says the skipper, 'I'm proud t' know the man that isn't afeared o' Walrus—'
“'Don't you call her that!' says the cook. 'Don't you do it, skipper!'
“I was lookin' at Liz. She was grinnin' in a holy sort o' way. Never seed nothin' like that afore—no, lads, not in all my life.
“'An' why not, cook?' says the skipper.
“'It ain't her name,' says the cook.