It was the
Captain, and in the buggy, holding the reins, sat The Crew. "Don't sit
grinning there, you blockhead!" shouted the ancient mariner to Sylvanus;
"hev ye been so long aboard ship ye can't tell a stable when you see it?
Drive on, you slabsided swab!" The Captain's combination of lumbering
with nautical pursuits gave a peculiar and not always congruous flavour
to his pet phrases; but Sylvanus did not mind; he drove round the lane
and met Timotheus.
"We have just finished tea, Captain," said Mrs. Carruthers with her
pretty touch of a cultivated Irish accent; "but Marjorie will tell
Tryphosa to set yours on the table at once."
"All right, Honoria!" growled Mr. Thomas; "I'm in port here for the
night, and I'm a goin' to make fast; so be I hev to belay on to the lee
side of a stack of shingle bolts. Now, Marjorie, my pet, give daddy
another kiss, and run away for a bit. John, I want you right away."
With the latter words, the Captain took the Squire off to the far end of
the verandah, and sat down with his legs dangling over among the
flowers, causing his brother-in-law to do the same.
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