Wal, they looked pooty bad. There had been a heavy sea on for a couple
o' days, and the clouds that was comin' up didn't look as if they
was goin' to smooth it down any. There was a kind o' brassy look over
every thin', and when the wind began to rise, it warn't with no
nat'ral sound, but a kind of screech to it, on'arthly like. Wal, thar!
the wind did rise, and it riz to stay. In half an hour it was blowin'
half a gale; in an hour it blew a gale, and as tough a one (barrin'
cyclones) as ever I see. 'T had like to ha' blow me off my pins, half
a dozen times. Then nat'rally the sea kem up; and 'twas all creation
on them rocks, now I tell ye. 'The sea, mountin' to the welkin's
cheek;' ye remember, Pigeon Pie?"
The child nodded eagerly. "Tempest!" she said, "Act I., Scene 2:
'Enter Prospero and Miranda.' Go on, Daddy!"
"Wal, my Lily Flower," continued the old man. "And the storm went
on. It roared, it bellowed, and it screeched: it thumped and it
kerwhalloped. The great seas would come bunt up agin the rocks, as
if they was bound to go right through to Jersey city, which they used
to say was the end of the world. Then they'd go scoopin' back, as
if they was callin' all their friends and neighbours to help; and
then, bang! they'd come at it agin.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32