Ann changed the jugs, and, ignoring a mild triumph in Mr. Wilks's eye, returned to the larder, whence ensued a musical trickling. Then Miss Nugent, raising the jug with some difficulty, poured out a tumbler for the steward with her own fair hands.
“Sam likes beer,” she said, speaking generally.
“I knew that the first time I see him, Miss,” remarked the vindictive Ann.
Mr. Wilks drained his glass and set it down on the table again, making a feeble gesture of repulse as Miss Nugent refilled it.
“Go on, Sam,” she said, with kindly encouragement; “how much does this jug hold, Jack?”
“Quart,” replied her brother.
“How many quarts are there in a gallon?”
“Four.”
Miss Nugent looked troubled. “I heard father say he drinks gallons a day,” she remarked; “you'd better fill all the jugs, Ann.”
“It was only 'is way o' speaking,” said Mr. Wilks, hurriedly; “the cap'n is like that sometimes.”