Christian sat down and partook of tea with the family, and related his adventures to the great entertainment of the grandfather, who laughed till his cheeks were wet at all the pathetic parts—such as Hawke’s description of his thirst and his feelings of loneliness when upon the ocean and when lying in the boat at the island. The women cleared away the tea-things and went out; the old grandfather fell asleep; then said Christian to his brother—
“Rube, I’m down here to have an airnest chat along with yer.”
“So I guessed,” said Reuben, who resembled his brother in face, manner, and tone of voice.
“Still got that cutter o’ yourn?”
“D’yer mean the Petrel?”
“Ay.”
“Yes, she’s a-lying in the west gully. She airnt me some good money last year as a pleasure-boat. I’ve been thinking of sending her out a-fishing.”
“What’s her tonnage?”
“Eighteen. Want to buy her, Christian?”
“Not I. Suppose you and me goes down and takes a look at her.”