overwhelming mills or factories. Her sons worked for such wage as the sea gave; and they all knew that neither Georges nor the Banks were cow-pastures. The utmost that folk ashore could accomplish was to help the widows and the orphans, and after a few general remarks he took this opportunity of thanking, in the name of the city, those who had so public-spiritedly consented to participate in the exercises of the
“I jest despise the beggin’ pieces in it,” growled Disko. “It don’t give folk a fair notion of us.”
“Ef folk won’t be forehanded an’ put by when they’ve the chance,” returned Salters, “it stands in the nature o’ things they hev to be ’shamed. You take warnin’ by that, young feller. Riches endureth but for a season, ef you scatter them araound on lugsuries—”
“But to lose everything, everything,” said Penn. “What can you do then ? Once I”—the watery blue eyes stared up and down as if looking for something to steady them—“once I read—in a book, I think—of a boat where everyone was run down—except someone—and he said to me—”
“Shucks!” said Salters, cutting in. “You read a little less an’ take more int’rust in your vittles, and you’ll come nearer earnin’ your keep, Penn.”
Harvey, jammed among the fishermen, felt a creepy, crawly, tingling thrill that began in the back of his neck and ended at his boots. He was cold, too, though it was a stifling day.
“That the actress from Philadelphia?” said Disko Troop, scowling at the platform. “You’ve fixed it about old man Ireson, hain’t ye, Harve? Ye know why