Michael Penguyne | Page 6

on board, she threw herself into his arms and
bestowed a kiss on his weather-beaten brow.
Michael had leaped on shore to fend off the boat, so that he lost the
greeting she would have given him.
"You have had a good haul with the nets to-night, father," she said,
looking into the baskets; "Granny and I can scarce carry half of them to
market, and unless Abel Mawgan the hawker comes in time to buy
them, you and Michael will have work to do to salt them down."
"It is well that we should have had a good haul, Nelly, for dirty weather
is coming on, and it may be many a day before we are able to cast our

nets again," answered Paul, looking up affectionately at his child, while
he began with a well-practised hand to stow the boat's sail.
Nelly meantime was filling her creel with fish, that she might lessen the
weight of the baskets which her father and Michael had to lift on shore.
As soon as it was full she stepped back on the rock, giving a kiss to
Michael as she passed him.
The baskets were soon landed, and the creel being filled, she and Nelly
ascended the hill, followed by Paul and Michael, who, carrying the
baskets between them, brought up the remainder of the fish.
Breakfast, welcome to those who had been toiling all night, had been
placed ready on the table, and leaving Paul and his boy to discuss it,
Polly Lanreath, as the old dame was generally called, and her little
granddaughter, set off on their long journey over the downs to dispose
of their fish at Helston, or at the villages and the few gentlemen's
houses they passed on their way. It was a long distance for the old
woman and girl to go, but they went willingly whenever fish had been
caught, for they depended on its sale for their livelihood, and neither
Paul nor Michael could have undertaken the duty, nor would they have
sold the fish so well as the dame and Nelly, who were welcomed
whenever they appeared. Their customers knew that they could depend
on their word when they mentioned the very hour when the fish were
landed.
The old dame's tongue wagged cheerfully as she walked along with
Nelly by her side, and she often beguiled the way with tales and
anecdotes of bygone days, and ancient Cornish legends which few but
herself remembered. Nelly listened with eager ears, and stored away in
her memory all she heard, and often when they got back in the evening
she would beg her granny to recount again for the benefit of her father
and Michael the stories she had told in the morning.
She had a cheerful greeting, too, for all she met; for some she had a
quiet joke; for the giddy and careless a word of warning, which came
with good effect from one whom all respected. At the cottages of the
poor she was always a welcome visitor, while at the houses of the more

wealthy she was treated with courtesy and kindness; and many a
housewife who might have been doubtful about buying fish that day,
when the dame and her granddaughter arrived, made up her mind to
assist in lightening Nelly's creel by selecting some of its contents.
The dame, as her own load decreased, would always insist on taking
some of her granddaughter's, deeming that the little maiden had enough
to do to trot on so many miles by her side, without having to carry a
burden on her back in addition. Nelly would declare that she did not
feel the weight, but the sturdy old dame generally gained her point,
though she might consent to replenish Nelly's basket before entering
the town, for some of their customers preferred the fish which the
bright little damsel offered them for sale to those in her grandmother's
creel.
Thus, though their daily toil was severe, and carried on under summer's
sun, or autumn's gales, and winter's rain and sleet, they themselves
were ever cheerful and contented, and seldom failed to return home
with empty creels and well-filled purses.
Paul Trefusis might thus have been able to lay by a store for the time
when the dame could no longer trudge over the country as she had
hitherto done, and he unable to put off with nets or lines to catch fish;
but often for weeks together the gales of that stormy coast prevented
him from venturing to sea, and the vegetables and potatoes produced in
his garden, and the few fish he and Michael could catch in the harbour,
were insufficient to support their little household, so that at the end of
each year Paul found himself no richer than at