"Very kind," said the latter. "Ah! you ought to have seen that island. Beautiful yellow sands and palm-trees; cocoa-nuts to be 'ad for the picking, and nothing to do all day but lay about in the sun and swim in the sea."
"Any public-'ouses there?" inquired Mrs. Gimpson.
"Cert'nly not," said her son-in-law. "This was an island—one o' the little islands in the South Pacific Ocean."
"What did you say the name o' the schooner was?" inquired Mrs. Gimpson.
"Pearl," replied Mr. Boxer, with the air of a resentful witness under cross-examination.
"And what was the name o' the captin?" said Mrs. Gimpson.
"Thomas—Henery—Walter—Smith," said Mr. Boxer, with somewhat unpleasant emphasis.
"An' the mate's name?"
"John Brown," was the reply.
"Common names," commented Mrs. Gimpson, "very common. But I knew you'd come back all right—I never 'ad no alarm. 'He's safe and happy, my dear,' I says. 'He'll come back all in his own good time.'"