The Garret and the Garden | Page 6

enough on the shrouds and ladders of shipboard, he failed to
accommodate himself to the stairs of rookeries, and went down, as he
afterwards expressed it, "by the run," coming to an anchor at the
bottom in a sitting posture. Of course the lithe and active Susy escaped
him, and also escaped being too late by only half a minute.
"Never mind, she'll be back again between nine and ten o'clock, unless
they keep her late," said old Liz, after Sam had explained who he was,
and found that Susy was indeed his daughter, and chimney-pot Liz the
nurse who had tended his wife to her dying day, and afterwards adopted
his child.
"I never was took aback so in all my life," said the seaman, sitting
down beside the old woman, and drawing a sigh so long that it might
have been likened to a moderate breeze. "She's the born image o' what
her dear mother was when I first met her. My Susy! Well, it's not every
poor seaman as comes off a long voyage an' finds that he's fallen heir to
a property like that!"
"You may well be proud of her," said old Liz, "and you'll be prouder
yet when you come to know her."
"I know it, and I'm proud to shake your hand, mother, an' thankee
kindly for takin' such care o' my helpless lassie. You say she'll be home

about ten?"
"Yes, if she's not kep' late. She always comes home about that time.
Meanwhile you'll have something to eat. Tommy, boy, fetch out the
loaf and the cheese and the teapot. You know where to find 'em.
Tommy's an orphan, Cap'n Blake, that I've lately taken in hand. He's a
good boy is Tommy, but rather wild."
"Wot can you expect of a horphing?" said the boy with a grin, for he
had overheard the latter remark, though it was intended only for the
visitor's ear. "But I say, granny, there ain't no cheese here, 'cept a bit o'
rind that even a mouse would scorn to look at."
"Never mind, bring out the loaf, Tommy."
"An' there ain't no use," continued the boy, "o' bringin' out the teapot,
'cause there ain't a grain o' tea nowheres."
"Oh! I forgot," returned old Liz, slightly confused; "I've just run out o'
tea, Cap'n Blake, an' I haven't a copper at present to buy any, but--"
"Never mind that old girl; and I ain't quite captain yet, though trendin'
in that direction. You come out along wi' me, Tommy. I'll soon putt
these matters to rights."
Old Liz could not have remonstrated even if she had wished to do so,
for her impulsive visitor was gone in a moment followed by his
extremely willing little friend. They returned in quarter of an hour.
"There you are," said the seaman, taking the articles one by one from a
basket carried by Tommy; "a big loaf, pound o' butter, ditto tea, three
pound o' sugar, six eggs, hunk o' cheese, paper o' salt--forgot the pepper;
never mind."
"You've bin an' forgot the sassengers too--but here they are," said
Tommy, plucking the delectable viands from the bottom of the basket
with a look of glee, and laying them on the table.

Chimney-pot Liz did not look surprised; she only smiled and nodded
her head approvingly, for she felt that Sam Blake understood the right
thing to do and did it.
Soon the celebrated teapot was going the round, full swing, while the
air was redolent of fried sausage and cheese mingled with the perfume
of roses and mignonette, for this meal, you must know, was eaten in the
garden in the afternoon sunshine, while the cooking--done in the attic
which opened on the garden--was accomplished by Sam assisted by
Tommy.
"Well, you air a trump," said the latter to the former as he sat down,
greasy and glowing, beside the seaman at the small table where old Liz
presided like a humble duchess.
We need hardly say that the conversation was animated, and that it bore
largely on the life-history of the absent Susy.
"You're quite sure that she'll be here by ten?" asked the excited father
for the fiftieth time that afternoon.
"Yes, I'm sure of it--unless she's kep' late," answered Liz.
But Susy did not return at the usual hour, so her impatient father was
forced to conclude that she had been "kep' late"--too late. In his anxiety
he resolved to sally forth under the guidance of Tommy Splint to
inquire for the missing Susy at the well-known establishment of Stickle
and Screw.
Let us anticipate him in that quest. At the usual hour that night the
employes of Stickle and Screw left work and took their several ways
home ward. Susy had the company of her