Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 4 — page 123: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

BROTHERS Its arrangement showed that it was much used. Along one side the lanterns and oil- cans were ranged. A square of heavy can- vas covered the fore-part of the rough, damp floor. . In one corner a rude wooden shelf was loaded with games and books. Some gaudy lithographed prints were spiked on the rocky wall. The place had a curious air of roughness and refinement, of pleasure and business, of leisure and of danger all combineg. Like all else in the community of West Cove, except the rolling, daisied meadows, Larkin’s general store was grey and cheer-. less. Nevertheless, around 5 P.M. of every day it was also Mecca, because that was the hour at which the stage, sole con- nective between the cove and the outer uni- verse, was due to rumble in. Thus the male section of the population had enough to look forward to from the night before to keep it idle through all the intervening hours. Knotted on the steps, festooned over the fences thereto abutting, it made the occasion a clearing-house of business and gossip. Men who scarcely nodded at other times nudged up and passed the weather. “ How’s haulin’?” observed Starling to Jake Darrance. Starling was a wizen little stick with an enormous quid bulging his cheek, while Darrance figured as the town giant—a surly chap of perhaps twenty, in leather waistcoat and knee boots. He pulled his cap farther over his eyes and squinted down the road before he growled: ‘“‘ Haulin’ what? ‘Spanners are tongue- cheap. As fer real fish, there ain’t none— nowheres.”’ ‘Thought ye’d say thet!” chuckled pare ling. “‘ Eastrup, he gets ’em though.’ ‘“Eastrup!” snorted Darrance, “ The Devil! A witch for a grandmother—”’ “‘ Soft-spoken for the Old ’Un,” someone interjected. ‘‘Perfesser, more likely. Full o’ books.” | ‘“‘ Foster-granny,’”’ corrected the neighbor on his right. ‘Washed ashore fr’m a wreck, Larry was. Old woman McGann, she hauled him out half dead—” ‘“‘Orter hev left him be!” snarled Dar- rance. 8 Arcosy O’ SPINKLE’S CHIMNEY, 593 ‘“ Wouldn’t ’a’ drowned,” barked another. “Hed a book in ’s pocket; told him how to walk on water—”’ ‘‘__and brung him up,” finished the first speaker imperturbably, in spite of the gen- eral laugh. ‘Then when he growed up, he went off and married Stella Burns an’ left the old woman alone again. Now she hates him fer that, an’ him an’ Stella lives off up there like—”’ “Don’t blame him none,” broke in an- other. “‘ Who’d want to bide in the same walls with that old screechin’ owl? Besides, Stella, she hadn’t no steady comp’ny— shame when a preity girl like her has to put up with sech as him because she can’t get no handsome feller—”’ ‘ Shut up, you!” roared Darrance, reach- ing behind to beat the speaker’s shoulder with a ham-like palm. ‘‘ He cut me out, the bloater, ’n’ you know it. I’d orter hev skinned him fer it. Sometime I’m a-goin’ to. Stella, she—”’ 7 “What ’r’ ye waitin’ fer? The gal’s young yet. Him out o’ the way”— The voice was sarcastic, bantermgly derisive. “I’m clean* sensible o’ that,” retorted Darrance seriously. “ But I’m merried now. Stella, she’d as good as promised me,- when up he comes from McGann’s old shack a couple o’ nights with his fe talk—” ‘“‘ Where'd he git it? in West Cove.” ‘“‘ Books,” asserted Starling. ’em washed «ashore. Taught hisself, witch—”’ ‘From Ireland, wa’nt she?” queried one in half awed-tones. “ They say the old women over there that lives in the villages by the sea-shore all their lives learns of the devil. She could teach him anything, she could.” “ How to ketch fish ’thout a net?” “‘ Goes and sings, I suppose he does, and they jump out ashore.” - “¢ Sings?” “Sure. Seen Her, ain’t ye, top o’ the cliff at sun-down, with her hair shook loose and her arms wavin’—” ‘“ Shucks!”’ blurted several all together, “‘T don’t believe—” There’s no larnin’ “ Box of Took toe ’em natural, they say. Or else the NOOO (C(O) S Eo