Short Cruises | Page 7

and consoled itself with
adjectives.

The men on the wharf had gone for the day, and the crew of the
Elizabeth Barstow, after making fast, went below to prepare themselves
for an evening ashore. Standing before the largest saucepan-lid in the
galley, the cook was putting the finishing touches to his toilet.
A light, quick step on the wharf attracted the attention of the skipper as
he leaned against the side smoking. It stopped just behind him, and
turning round he found himself gazing into the soft brown eyes of the
prettiest girl he had ever seen.
[Illustration: Soft brown eyes 038]
"Is Mr. Jewell on board, please?" she asked, with a smile.
"Jewell?" repeated the skipper. "Jewell? Don't know the name."
"He was on board," said the girl, somewhat taken aback. "This is the
Elizabeth Barstow, isn't it?"
"What's his Christian name," inquired the skipper, thoughtfully.
"Albert," replied the girl. "Bert," she added, as the other shook his
head.
"Oh, the cook!" said the skipper. "I didn't know his name was Jewell.
Yes, he's in the galley."
He stood eyeing her and wondering in a dazed fashion what she could
see in a small, white-faced, slab-sided--
The girl broke in upon his meditations. "How does he cook?" she
inquired, smiling.
He was about to tell her, when he suddenly remembered the cook's
statement as to his instructor. "He's getting on," he said, slowly; "he's
getting on. Are you his sister?"
The girl smiled and nodded. "Ye--es," she said, slowly. "Will you tell
him I am waiting for him, please?"

The skipper started and drew himself up; then he walked forward and
put his head in at the galley.
"Bert," he said, in a friendly voice, "your sister wants to see you."
"Who?" inquired Mr. Jewell, in the accents of amazement. He put his
head out at the door and nodded, and then, somewhat red in the face
with the exercise, drew on his jacket and walked towards her. The
skipper followed.
"Thank you," said the girl, with a pleasant smile.
"You're quite welcome," said the skipper.
Mr. Jewell stepped ashore and, after a moment of indecision, shook
hands with his visitor.
"If you're down this way again," said the skipper, as they turned away,
"perhaps you'd like to see the cabin. We're in rather a pickle just now,
but if you should happen to come down for Bert to-morrow night--"
The girl's eyes grew mirthful and her lips trembled. "Thank you," she
said.
"Some people like looking over cabins," murmured the skipper.
He raised his hand to his cap and turned away. The mate, who had just
come on deck, stared after the retreating couple and gave vent to a low
whistle.
"What a fine gal to pick up with Slushy," he remarked.
"It's his sister," said the skipper, somewhat sharply.
"The one that taught him to cook?" said the other, hastily. "Here! I'd
like five minutes alone with her; I'd give 'er a piece o' my mind that 'ud
do her good. I'd learn 'er. I'd tell her wot I thought of her."
"That'll do," said the skipper; "that'll do. He's not so bad for a beginner;

I've known worse."
"Not so bad?" repeated the mate. "Not so bad? Why"--his voice
trembled--"ain't you going to give 'im the chuck, then?"
"I shall try him for another vy'ge, George," said the skipper. "It's hard
lines on a youngster if he don't have a chance. I was never one to be
severe. Live and let live, that's my motto. Do as you'd be done by."
"You're turning soft-'arted in your old age," grumbled the mate.
"Old age!" said the other, in a startled voice, "Old age! I'm not
thirty-seven yet."
"You're getting on," said the mate; "besides, you look old."
The skipper investigated the charge in the cabin looking-glass ten
minutes later. He twisted his beard in his hand and tried to imagine how
he would look without it. As a compromise he went out and had it cut
short and trimmed to a point. The glass smiled approval on his return;
the mate smiled too, and, being caught in the act, said it made him look
like his own grandson.
[Illustration: The mate smiled too 046]
It was late when the cook returned, but the skipper was on deck, and,
stopping him for a match, entered into a little conversation. Mr. Jewell,
surprised at first, soon became at his ease, and, the talk drifting in some
unknown fashion to Miss Jewell, discussed her with brotherly
frankness.
"You spent the evening together, I s'pose?" said the skipper, carelessly.
Mr. Jewell glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Cooking," he
said, and put his hand over his mouth with some suddenness.
By the time they parted the skipper had his hand in