“'Well,' says the skipper, kissin' the Book, 'I'low me an' the crew don't care; an' we can't help it, anyhow.'
“'What about mother's ring?' says the cook. 'She might's well have that,' says he, 'if she's careful about the wear an' tear. For joolery,' says he t' Liz, 'don't stand it.'
“'It can't do no harm,' says the skipper.
“'Ith we married, thkipper?' says Liz, when she got the ring on.
“'Well,' says the skipper, 'I 'low that knot 'll hold 'til fall. For,' says he, 'I got a rope's end an' a belayin'-pin t' make it hold,' says he, 'til we gets long-side of a parson that knows more about matrimonial knots 'n me. We'll pick up your goods. Liz,' says he, 'on the s'uthard v'y'ge. An' I hopes, ol girl,' says he, 'that you'll be able t' boil the water 'ithout burnin' it.'
“'Ay, Liz. I been makin' a awful fist o' b'ilin' the water o' late.'
“She gave him one look—an' put her clean pinny to her eyes.
“'What you cryin' about?' says the cook.
“'I don't know,' says she; 'but I 'low 'tith becauthe now I knowth you ith a fool!'
“'She's right, Tumm,' says the cook. 'She's got it right! Bein' born on Hollow eve,' says he, 'I couldn't be nothin' else. But, Liz,' says he, 'I'm glad I got you, fool or no fool.'