The Meanness Of Rosy
Cap'n Jonadab said that the South Seas and them islands was full of
queer happenings, anyhow. Said that Eri's yarn reminded him of one
that Jule Sparrow used to tell. There was a Cockney in that yarn,
too, and a South Sea woman and a schooner. But in other respects
the stories was different.
"You all know Wash Sparrow, here in Wellmouth," says the Cap'n.
"He's the laziest man in town. It runs in his family. His dad was
just the same. The old man died of creeping paralysis, which was
just the disease he'd pick out TO die of, and even then he took six
years to do it in. Washy's brother Jule, Julius Caesar Sparrow, he
was as no-account and lazy as the rest. When he was around this
neighborhood he put in his time swapping sea lies for heat from the
post-office stove, and the only thing that would get him livened up
at all was the mention of a feller named 'Rosy' that he knew while
he was seafaring, way off on t'other side of the world. Jule used
to say that 'twas this Rosy that made him lose faith in human
nature.
"The first time ever Julius and Rosy met was one afternoon just as
the Emily--that was the little fore-and-aft South Sea trading
schooner Jule was in--was casting off from the ramshackle landing
at Hello Island. Where's Hello Island? Well, I'll tell you. When
you get home you take your boy's geography book and find the map of
the world. About amidships of the sou'western quarter of it you'll
see a place where the Pacific Ocean is all broke out with the
measles. Yes; well, one of them measle spots is Hello Island.
"'Course that ain't the real name of it. The real one is spelt
with four o's, three a's, five i's, and a peck measure of h's and
x's hove in to fill up. It looks like a plate of hash and that's
the way it's pronounced. Maybe you might sing it if 'twas set to
music, but no white man ever said the whole of it. Them that tried
always broke down on the second fathom or so and said 'Oh, the
hereafter!' or words to that effect. 'Course the missionaries see
that wouldn't do, so they twisted it stern first and it's been
Hello Island to most folks ever since.
"Why Jule was at Hello Island is too long a yarn. Biled down it
amounts to a voyage on a bark out of Seattle, and a first mate like
yours, Eri, who was a kind of Christian Science chap and cured sick
sailors by the laying on of hands--likewise feet and belaying pins
and ax handles and such. And, according to Jule's tell, he DID
cure 'em, too. After he'd jumped up and down on your digestion a
few times you forgot all about the disease you started in with and
only remembered the complications. Him and Julius had their final
argument one night when the bark was passing abreast one of the
Navigator Islands, close in. Jule hove a marlinespike at the
mate's head and jumped overboard. He swum ashore to the beach and,
inside of a week, he'd shipped aboard the Emily. And 'twas aboard
the Emily, and at Hello Island, as I said afore, that he met Rosy.
"George Simmons--a cockney Britisher he was, and skipper--was
standing at the schooner's wheel, swearing at the two Kanaka
sailors who were histing the jib. Julius, who was mate, was
roosting on the lee rail amid-ships, helping him swear. And old
Teunis Van Doozen, a Dutchman from Java or thereabouts, who was
cook, was setting on a stool by the galley door ready to heave in a
word whenever 'twas necessary. The Kanakas was doing the work.
That was the usual division of labor aboard the Emily.
"Well, just then there comes a yell from the bushes along the
shore. Then another yell and a most tremendous cracking and
smashing. Then out of them bushes comes tearing a little man with
spectacles and a black enamel-cloth carpetbag, heaving sand like a
steam-shovel and seemingly trying his best to fly. And astern of
him comes more yells and a big, husky Kanaka woman, about eight
foot high and three foot in the beam, with her hands stretched out
and her fingers crooked.
"Julius used to swear that that beach was all of twenty yards wide
and that the little man only lit three times from bush to wharf.
And he didn't stop there. He fired the carpetbag at the schooner's
stern and then spread out his wings and flew after it. His fingers
just hooked over the rail and he managed to haul himself aboard.
Then he curled up on the deck and breathed short but spirited. The
Kanaka woman danced to the stringpiece and whistled distress
signals.
"Cap'n George Simmons looked down at the wrecked flying machine and
grunted.
"'Umph!' says he. 'You don't look like a man the girls would run
after. Lady your wife?'
"The little feller bobbed his specs up and down.
"'So?' says George. ''Ow can I bear to leave thee, 'ey? Well,
ain't you ashamed of yourself to be running off and leaving a nice,
'andsome, able-bodied wife that like? Look at 'er now, over there
on 'er knees a praying for you to come back.'
"There was a little p'int making out from the beach close by the
edge of the channel and the woman was out on the end of it, down on
all fours. Her husband raised up and looked over the rail.
"'She ain't praying,' he pants, ducking down again quick. 'She's
a-picking up stones.'
"And so she was. Julius said he thought sure she'd cave in the
Emily's ribs afore she got through with her broadsides. The rocks
flew like hail. Everybody got their share, but Cap'n George got a
big one in the middle of the back. That took his breath so all the
way he could express his feelings was to reach out and give his new
passenger half a dozen kicks. But just as soon as he could he
spoke, all right enough.
"'You mis'rable four-eyed shrimp!' he says. ''Twould serve you
right if I 'ove to and made you swim back to 'er. Blow me if I
don't believe I will!'
"'Aw, don't, Cap'n; PLEASE don't!' begs the feller. 'I'll be awful
grateful to you if you won't. And I'll make it right with you,
too. I've got a good thing in that bag of mine. Yes, sir! A
beautiful good thing.'
"'Oh, well,' says the skipper, bracing up and smiling sweet as he
could for the ache in his back. 'I'll 'elp you out. You trust
your Uncle George. Not on account of what you're going to give me,
you understand,' says he. 'It would be a pity if THAT was the
reason for 'elpin' a feller creat-- Sparrow, if you touch that bag
I'll break your blooming 'ead. 'Ere! you 'and it to me. I'll take
care of it for the gentleman.'
"All the rest of that day the Cap'n couldn't do enough for the
passenger. Give him a big dinner that took Teunis two hours to
cook, and let him use his own pet pipe with the last of Jule's
tobacco in it, and all that. And that evening in the cabin, Rosy
told his story. Seems he come from Bombay originally, where he was
born an innocent and trained to be a photographer. This was in the
days when these hand cameras wa'n't so common as they be now, and
Rosy--his full name was Clarence Rosebury, and he looked it--had a
fine one. Also he had some plates and photograph paper and a jug
of 'developer' and bottles of stuff to make more, wrapped up in an
old overcoat and packed away in the carpetbag. He had landed in
the Fijis first-off and had drifted over to Hello Island, taking
pictures of places and natives and so on, intending to use 'em in a
course of lectures he was going to deliver when he got back home.
He boarded with the Kanaka lady at Hello till his money give out,
and then he married her to save board. He wouldn't talk about his
married life--just shivered instead.
"'But w'at about this good thing you was mentioning, Mr. Rosebury?'
asks Cap'n George, polite, but staring hard at the bag. Jule and
the cook was in the cabin likewise. The skipper would have liked
to keep 'em out, but they being two to one, he couldn't.
"'That's it,' answers Rosy, cheerful.
"'W'at's it?'
"'Why, the things in the grip; the photograph things. You see,'
says Rosy, getting excited, his innocent, dreamy eyes a-shining
behind his specs and the ridge of red hair around his bald spot
waving like a hedge of sunflowers; 'you see,' he says, 'my
experience has convinced me that there's a fortune right in these
islands for a photographer who'll take pictures of the natives.
They're all dying to have their photographs took. Why, when I was
in Hello Island I could have took dozens, only they didn't have the
money to pay for 'em and I couldn't wait till they got some. But
you've got a schooner. You could sail around from one island to
another, me taking pictures and you getting copra and--and pearls
and things from the natives in trade for 'em. And we'd leave a
standing order for more plates to be delivered steady from the
steamer at Suva or somewheres, and--'
"''Old on!' Cap'n George had been getting redder and redder in the
face while Rosy was talking, and now he fairly biled over, like a
teakettle. ''Old on!' he roars. 'Do I understand that THIS is the
good thing you was going to let me in on? Me to cruise you around
from Dan to Beersheby, feeding you, and giving you tobacco to
smoke--'
"''Twas my tobacco,' breaks in Julius.
"'Shut up! Cruising you around, and you living on the fat of--of
the--the water, and me trusting to get my pay out of tintypes of
Kanakas! Was that it? Was it?'
"'Why--why, yes,' answers Rosy. 'But, cap'n, you don't understand--'
"'Then,' says George, standing up and rolling up his pajama
sleeves, 'there's going to be justifiable 'omicide committed right
now.'
"Jule said that if it hadn't been that the skipper's sore back got
to hurting him he don't know when him and the cook would have had
their turn at Rosy. 'Course they wanted a turn on account of the
tobacco and the dinner, not to mention the stone bruises. When all
hands was through, that photographer was a spiled negative.
"And that was only the beginning. They ain't much fun abusing
Kanakas because they don't talk back, but first along Rosy would
try to talk back, and that give 'em a chance. Julius had learned a
lot of things from that mate on the bark, and he tried 'em all on
that tintype man. And afterward they invented more. They made him
work his passage, and every mean and dirty job there was to do, he
had to do it. They took his clothes away from him, and, while they
lasted, the skipper had three shirts at once, which hadn't happened
afore since he served his term in the Sydney jail. And he was such
a COMFORT to 'em. Whenever the dinner wa'n't cooked right, instead
of blaming Teunis, they took it out of Rosy. By the time they made
their first port they wouldn't have parted with him for no money,
and they locked him up in the fo'castle and kept him there. And
when one of the two Kanaka boys run away they shipped Rosy in his
place by unanimous vote. And so it went for six months, the Emily
trading and stealing all around the South Seas.
"One day the schooner was off in an out-of-the way part of the
ocean, and the skipper come up from down below, bringing one of the
photographing bottles from the carpetbag.
"'See 'ere,' says he to Rosy, who was swabbing decks just to keep
him out of mischief, 'w'at kind of a developer stuff is this? It
has a mighty familiar smell.'
"'That ain't developer, sir,' answers Rosy, meek as usual. 'That's
alcohol. I use it--'
"'Alcohol!' says George. 'Do you mean to tell me that you've 'ad
alcohol aboard all this time and never said a word to one of us?
If that ain't just like you! Of all the ungrateful beasts as ever
I--'
"When him and the other two got through convincing Rosy that he was
ungrateful, they took that bottle into the cabin and begun
experimenting. Julius had lived a few months in Maine, which is a
prohibition State, and so he knew how to make alcohol 'splits'--
one-half wet fire and the rest water. They 'split' for five days.
Then the alcohol was all out and the Emily was all in, being stove
up on a coral reef two mile off shore of a little island that
nobody'd ever seen afore.
"They got into the boat--the four white men and the Kanaka--histed
the sail, and headed for the beach. They landed all right and was
welcomed by a reception committee of fifteen husky cannibals with
spears, dressed mainly in bone necklaces and sunshine. The
committee was glad to see 'em, and showed it, particular to Teunis,
who was fat. Rosy, being principally framework by this time,
wa'n't nigh so popular; but he didn't seem to care.
"The darkies tied 'em up good and proper and then held a committee
meeting, arguing, so Julius cal'lated, whether to serve 'em plain
or with greens. While the rest was making up the bill of fare, a
few set to work unpacking the bags and things, Rosy's satchel among
'em. Pretty soon there was an awful jabbering.
"'They've settled it,' says George, doleful. 'Well, there's enough
of Teunis to last 'em for one meal, if they ain't 'ogs. You're a
tough old bird, cooky; maybe you'll give 'em dyspepsy, so they
won't care for the rest of us. That's a ray of 'ope, ain't it?'
"But the cook didn't seem to get much hope out of it. He was busy
telling the skipper what he thought of him when the natives come
up. They was wildly excited, and two or three of 'em was waving
square pieces of cardboard in their hands.
"And here's where the Emily's gang had a streak of luck. The
Kanaka sailor couldn't talk much English, but it seems that his
granddad, or some of his ancestors, must have belonged to the same
breed of cats as these islanders, for he could manage to understand
a little of their lingo.
"'Picture!' says he, crazy-like with joy. 'Picture, cappy;
picture!'
"When Rosy was new on board the schooner, afore George and the rest
had played with him till he was an old story, one of their games
was to have him take their photographs. He'd taken the cap'n's
picture, and Julius's and Van Doozen's. The pictures was a Rogues'
Gallery that would have got 'em hung on suspicion anywhere in
civilization, but these darkies wa'n't particular. Anyhow they
must have been good likenesses, for the committee see the
resemblance right off.
"'They t'ink witchcraft,' says the Kanaka. 'Want to know how
make.'
"'Lord!' says George. 'You tell 'em we're witches from Witch
Center. Tell 'em we make them kind of things with our eyes shut,
and if they eat us we'll send our tintypes to 'aunt 'em into their
graves. Tell 'em that quick.'
"Well, I guess the Kanaka obeyed orders, for the islanders was all
shook up. They jabbered and hurrahed like a parrot-house for ten
minutes or so. Then they untied the feet of their Sunday dinners,
got 'em into line, and marched 'em off across country, prodding 'em
with their spears, either to see which was the tenderest or to make
'em step livelier, I don't know which.
"Julius said that was the most nervous walk ever he took. Said
afore 'twas done he was so leaky with spear holes that he cast a
shadder like a skimmer. Just afore sunset they come to the other
side of the island, where there was a good sized native village,
with houses made of grass and cane, and a big temple-like in the
middle, decorated fancy and cheerful with skulls and spareribs.
Jule said there was places where the decorations needed repairs,
and he figgered he was just in time to finish 'em. But he didn't
take no pride in it; none of his folks cared for art.
"The population was there to meet 'em, and even the children looked
hungry. Anybody could see that having company drop in for dinner
was right to their taste. There was a great chair arrangement in
front of the temple, and on it was the fattest, ugliest, old liver-
colored woman that Julius ever see. She was rigged up regardless,
with a tooth necklace and similar jewelry; and it turned out that
she was the queen of the bunch. Most of them island tribes have
chiefs, but this district was strong for woman suffrage.
"Well, the visitors had made a hit, but Rosy's photographs made a
bigger one. The queen and the head men of the village pawed over
'em and compared 'em with the originals and powwowed like a sewing
circle. Then they called up the Kanaka sailor, and he preached
witchcraft and hoodoos to beat the cars, lying as only a feller
that knows the plates are warming for him on the back of the stove
can lie. Finally the queen wanted to know if the 'long pigs' could
make a witch picture of HER.
"'Tell 'er yes,' yells George, when the question was translated to
him. 'Tell 'er we're picture-makers by special app'intment to the
Queen and the Prince of Wales. Tell 'er we'll make 'er look like
the sweetest old chocolate drop in the taffy-shop. Only be sure
and say we must 'ave a day or so to work the spells and put on the
kibosh.'
"So 'twas settled, and dinner was put off for that night, anyhow.
And the next day being sunny, Rosy took the queen's picture. 'Twas
an awful strain on the camera, but it stood it fine; and the
photographs he printed up that afternoon was the most horrible
collection of mince-pie dreams that ever a sane man run afoul of.
Rosy used one of the grass huts for a dark room; and while he was
developing them plates, they could hear him screaming from sheer
fright at being shut up alone with 'em in the dark.
"But her majesty thought they was lovely, and set and grinned proud
at 'em for hours at a stretch. And the wizards was untied and fed
up and given the best house in town to live in. And Cap'n George
and Julius and the cook got to feeling so cheerful and happy that
they begun to kick Rosy again, just out of habit. And so it went
on for three days.
"Then comes the Kanaka interpreter--grinning kind of foolish.
"'Cappy,' says he, 'queen, she likes you. She likes you much lot.'
"'Well,' says the skipper, modest, 'she'd ought to. She don't see
a man like me every day. She ain't the first woman,' he says.
"'She like all you gentlemen,' says the Kanaka. 'She say she want
witch husband. One of you got marry her."
"'HEY?' yells all hands, setting up.
"'Yes, sir. She no care which one, but one white man must marry
her to-morrow. Else we all go chop plenty quick.'
"'Chop' is Kanaka English for 'eat.' There wa'n't no need for the
boy to explain.
"Then there was times. They come pretty nigh to a fight, because
Teunis and Jule argued that the skipper, being such a ladies' man,
was the natural-born choice. Just as things was the warmest; Cap'n
George had an idea.
"'ROSY!' says he.
"'Hey?' says the others. Then, 'Rosy? Why, of course, Rosy's the
man.'
"But Rosy wa'n't agreeable. Julius said he never see such a
stubborn mule in his life. They tried every reasonable way they
could to convince him, pounding him on the head and the like of
that, but 'twas no go.
"'I got a wife already,' he says, whimpering. 'And, besides,
cap'n, there wouldn't be such a contrast in looks between you and
her as there would with me.'
"He meant so far as size went, but George took it the other way,
and there was more trouble. Finally Julius come to the rescue.
"'I tell you,' says he. 'We'll be square and draw straws!'
"'W'at?' hollers George. 'Well, I guess not!'
"'And I'll hold the straws,' says Jule, winking on the side.
"So they drew straws, and, strange as it may seem, Rosy got stuck.
He cried all night, and though the others tried to comfort him,
telling him what a lucky man he was to marry a queen, he wouldn't
cheer up a mite.
"And next day the wedding took place in the temple in front of a
wood idol with three rows of teeth, and as ugly almost as the
bride, which was saying a good deal. And when 'twas over, the
three shipmates come and congratulated the groom, wishing him luck
and a happy honeymoon and such. Oh, they had a bully time, and
they was still laughing over it that night after supper, when down
comes a file of big darkies with spears, the Kanaka interpreter
leading 'em.
"'Cappy,' says he. 'The king say you no stay in this house no
more. He say too good for you. Say, bimeby, when the place been
clean up, maybe he use it himself. You got to go.'
"'Who says this?' roars Cap'n George, ugly as could be.
"'The king, he say it.'
"'The queen, you mean. There ain't no king.'
"'Yes, sir. King AND queen now. Mr. Rosy he king. All tribe
proud to have witch king.'
"The three looked at each other.
"'Do you mean to say,' says the skipper, choking so he could hardly
speak, 'that we've got to take orders from 'IM?'
"'Yes, sir. King say you no mind, we make.'
"Well, sir, the language them three used must have been something
awful, judging by Jule's tell. But when they vowed they wouldn't
move, the spears got busy and out they had to get and into the
meanest, dirtiest little hut in the village, one without hardly any
sides and great holes in the roof. And there they stayed all night
in a pouring rain, the kind of rains you get in them islands.
"'Twa'n't a nice night. They tried huddling together to keep dry,
but 'twa'n't a success because there was always a row about who
should be in the middle. Then they kept passing personal remarks
to one another.
"'If the skipper hadn't been so gay and uppish about choosing
Rosy,' says Julius, 'there wouldn't have been no trouble. I do
hate a smart Aleck.'
"'Who said draw straws?' sputters George, mad clean through. 'And
who 'eld 'em? 'Ey? Who did?'
"'Well,' says Teunis, '_I_ didn't do it. You can't blame me.'
"'No. You set there like a bump on a log and let me and the mate
put our feet in it. You old fat 'ead! I--'
"They pitched into the cook until he got mad and hit the skipper.
Then there was a fight that lasted till they was all scratched up
and tired out. The only thing they could agree on was that Rosy
was what the skipper called a 'viper' that they'd nourished in
their bosoms.
"Next morning 'twas worse than ever. Down comes the Kanaka with
his spear gang and routs 'em out and sets 'em to gathering
breadfruit all day in the hot sun. And at night 'twas back to the
leaky hut again.
"And that wa'n't nothing to what come later. The lives that King
Rosy led them three was something awful. 'Twas dig in and work day
in and day out. Teunis had to get his majesty's meals, and nothing
was ever cooked right; and then the royal army got after the
steward with spear handles. Cap'n George had to clean up the
palace every day, and Rosy and the queen--who was dead gone on her
witch husband, and let him do anything he wanted to--stood over him
and found fault and punched him with sharp sticks to see him jump.
And Julius had to fetch and carry and wait, and get on his knees
whenever he spoke to the king, and he helped up again with a kick,
like as not.
"Rosy took back all his own clothes that they'd stole, and then he
took theirs for good measure. He made 'em marry the three ugliest
old women on the island--his own bride excepted--and when they
undertook to use a club or anything, he had THEM licked instead.
He wore 'em down to skin and bone. Jule said you wouldn't believe
a mortal man could treat his feller creatures so low down and mean.
And the meanest part of it was that he always called 'em the names
that they used to call him aboard ship. Sometimes he invented new
ones, but not often, because 'twa'n't necessary.
"For a good six months this went on--just the same length of time
that Rosy was aboard the Emily. Then, one morning early, Julius
looks out of one of the holes in the roof of his house and, off on
the horizon, heading in, he sees a small steamer, a pleasure yacht
'twas. He lets out a yell that woke up the village, and races head
first for the Emily's boat that had been rowed around from the
other side of the island, and laid there with her oars and sail
still in her. And behind him comes Van Doozen and Cap'n George.
"Into the boat they piled, while the islanders were getting their
eyes open and gaping at the steamer. There wa'n't no time to get
up sail, so they grabbed for the oars. She stuck on the sand just
a minute; and, in that minute, down from the palace comes King
Rosy, running the way he run from his first wife over at Hello. He
leaped over the stern, picked up the other oar, and off they put
across the lagoon. The rudder was in its place and so was the
tiller, but they couldn't use 'em then.
"They had a good start, but afore they'd got very far the natives
had waked up and were after 'em in canoes.
"''Ere!' screams Cap'n George. 'This won't do! They'll catch us
sure. Get sail on to 'er lively! Somebody take that tiller.'
"Rosy, being nearest, took the tiller and the others got up the
sail. Then 'twas nip and tuck with the canoes for the opening of
the barrier reef at the other side of the lagoon. But they made it
first, and, just as they did, out from behind the cliff comes the
big steam-yacht, all white and shining, with sailors in uniform on
her decks, and awnings flapping, and four mighty pretty women
leaning over the side. All of the Emily gang set up a whoop of
joy, and 'twas answered from the yacht.
"'Saved!' hollers Cap'n George. 'Saved, by thunder! And now,'
says he, knocking his fists together, 'NOW to get square with that
four-eyed thief in the stern! Come on, boys!'
"Him and Julius and Teunis made a flying leap aft to get at Rosy.
But Rosy see 'em coming, jammed the tiller over, the boom swung
across and swept the three overboard pretty as you please.
"There was a scream from the yacht. Rosy give one glance at the
women. Then he tossed his arms over his head.
"'Courage, comrades!' he shouts. 'I'll save you or die with you!'
"And overboard he dives, 'kersplash!'
"Julius said him and the skipper could have swum all right if Rosy
had give 'em the chance, but he didn't. He knew a trick worth two
of that. He grabbed 'em round the necks and kept hauling 'em under
and splashing and kicking like a water-mill. All hands was pretty
well used up when they was pulled aboard the yacht.
"'Oh, you brave man!' says one of the women, stooping over Rosy,
who was sprawled on the deck with his eyes shut, 'Oh, you HERO!'
"'Are they living?' asks Rosy, faint-like and opening one eye.
'Good! Now I can die content.'
"'Living!' yells George, soon's he could get the salt water out of
his mouth. 'Living! By the 'oly Peter! Let me at 'im! I'll show
'im whether I'm living or not!'
"'What ails you, you villain?' says the feller that owned the
yacht, a great big Englishman, Lord Somebody-or-other. 'The man
saved your lives.'
"'He knocked us overboard!' yells Julius.
"'Yes, and he done it a-purpose!' sputters Van Doozen, well as he
could for being so waterlogged.
"'Let's kill him!' says all three.
"'Did it on purpose!' says the lord, scornful. 'Likely he'd throw
you over and then risk his life to save you. Here!' says he to the
mate. 'Take those ungrateful rascals below. Give 'em dry clothes
and then set 'em to work--hard work; understand? As for this poor,
brave chap, take him to the cabin. I hope he'll pull through,'
says he.
"And all the rest of the voyage, which was to Melbourne, Julius and
his two chums had to slave and work like common sailors, while
Rosy, the hero invalid, was living on beef tea and jelly and
champagne, and being petted and fanned by the lord's wife and the
other women. And 'twas worse toward the end, when he pretended to
be feeling better, and could set in a steamer-chair on deck and
grin and make sarcastic remarks under his breath to George and the
other two when they was holystoning or scrubbing in the heat.
"At Melbourne they hung around the wharf, waiting to lick him, till
the lord had 'em took up for vagrants. When they got out of the
lockup they found Rosy had gone. And his lordship had given him
money and clothes, and I don't know what all.
"Julius said that Rosy's meanness sickened him of the sea. Said
'twas time to retire when such reptiles was afloat. So he come
home and married the scrub-woman at the Bay View House. He lived
with her till she lost her job. I don't know where he is now."
* * * * * *
'Twas purty quiet for a few minutes after Jonadab had unloaded this
yarn. Everybody was busy trying to swaller his share of the
statements in it, I cal'late. Peter T. looked at the Cap'n,
admiring but reproachful.
"Wixon," says he. "I didn't know 'twas in you. Why didn't you
tell me?"
"Oh," says Jonadab, "I ain't responsible. 'Twas Jule Sparrow that
told it to me."
"Humph!" says Peter. "I wish you knew his address. I'd like to
hire him to write the Old Home ads. I thought MY invention was
A 1, but I'm in the kindergarten. Well, let's go to bed before
somebody tries to win the prize from Sparrow."
'Twas after eleven by then, so, as his advice looked good, we
follered it.
-THE END-
Joseph Crosby Lincoln's short story: The Meanness Of Rosy
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