A sharp scream, and a breathless "Lawk-a-mussy me!" as he tapped at his
mother's window, assured him that the old lady was alive and well, and
he continued on his way until he brought up at a small but pretty house
in the next road.
"Morning, Mr. Rumbolt," said he heartily to a stout, red-faced man, who
sat smoking in the doorway.
"Morning, cap'n, morning," said the red-faced man.
"Is the rheumatism any better?" inquired Hezekiah anxiously, as he
grasped the other's huge hand.
"So, so," said the other. "But it ain't the rheumatism so much what
troubles me," he resumed, lowering his voice, and looking round
cautiously. "It's Kate."
"What?" said the skipper.
"You've heard of a man being henpecked?" continued Mr. Rumbolt, in tones
of husky confidence.
The captain nodded.
"I'm CHICK-PECKED" murmured the other.
"What?" inquired the astonished mariner again.
"Chick-pecked," repeated Mr. Rumbolt firmly. "CHIK-PEKED. D'ye
understand me?"
The captain said that he did, and stood silent awhile, with the air of a
man who wants to say something, but is half afraid to. At last, with a
desperate appearance of resolution, he bent down to the old man's ear.
"That's the deaf 'un," said Mr. Rumbolt promptly.
Hezekiah changed ears, speaking at first slowly and awkwardly, but
becoming more fluent as he warmed with his subject; while the expression
of his listener's face gradually changed from incredulous bewilderment
to one of uncontrollable mirth.
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