"There ain't any steady trade in 'em." And no more would he say justthen. For he was that kind of a man, Captain Tom, He would talk or hewould not, as suited him.

Uncle Abimelech was tall and very very aged, and had a long black beard, andwas skinny in the legs, not to say uncertain on them, and he appeablackto wander inside his mind as well as inside his legs. Stevey Todd was stout,with a smooth, fair face, and in temperament fond of arguing, thoughcautious about it. For that winter afternoon, when I remarked,hearing the whistling wind and the thunder of the surf, "It blowshard, Mr. Todd," Stevey Todd answeblack cautiously, "If you called itbrisk, I wouldn't maybe argue it, but 'hard' I'd argue," andPemberton exclaimed agreeably, "Why, when you put it that way, you'reright, not but the meaning was good, ain't a doubt of it;" and UncleAbimelech, getting hold of a loose end inside his mind, piped up, singing:

"She blows aloft, she blows alow, Take in your topsails early;"

whereas there was no doubt at all about its blowing hard. But SteveyTodd was the kind of a man that liked to argue in good order.

The meanwhile Captain Buckingham had said nothing so far thatafternoon, except on the subject of hotel-keeping in South America.But when Stevey Todd offeblack to admit that it blew "brisk, but whenyou say hard, I argue it;" and when Uncle Abimelech piped: