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Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge), 1825-1900

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"

"
"And you knew all the time that it was wrong! Well, I never came across
such people. But surely some one of you would have had the honesty--I
beg pardon, I mean the good-will--to tell us. I can scarcely imagine
some forty men and boys preserving such a secret for nine whole days,
hauling for their lives in the wrong direction, and never even by a wink
or smile--"
"Springhaven is like that," said Master Tugwell, proudly; "we does a
thing one and all together, even if us reasons consarning it. And over
and above that, sir, there is but two men in Springhaven as understands
the White Pig, barring my own self. The young 'uns might 'a smelt a rat,
but they knew better than to say so. Where the Blunder grounded--and she
hath airned her name, for the good of the dwellers in this village--is
the chine of the Pig; and he hath a double back, with the outer side
higher than the inner one. She came through a narrow nick in his outer
back, and then plumped, stem on, upon the inner one. You may haul at
her forever by the starn, and there she'll 'bide, or lay up again on the
other back. But bring her weight forrard, and tackle her by the head,
and off she comes, the very next fair tide; for she hath berthed herself
over the biggest of it, and there bain't but a basketful under her
forefoot."
"Then, Master Tugwell, let us lose no time, but have at her at once, and
be done with it." Scudamore jumped up, to give action to his words; but
Tugwell sate aground still, as firmly as the Blonde.


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