Page:Cup of Gold-1929.djvu/60

I'm to be paying for the fine breakfast, and me with never a shine,” he said slowly and emphatically.

“Why, if you have no money, I'll buy your breakfast—so you will be telling me of the sea and ships.”

“I knew it was a gentleman you were,” Tim cried. “I knew it the minute my eyes landed on you soft like— And a small drink to be starting with?” He shouted for his drink without waiting for Henry's consent, and when it came, raised the brown liquor to his eyes.

“Uisquebaugh, the Irish call it. That means water of life; and the English call it ‘Whiskey’—only water. Why! if water had the fine body and honest glow of this, it’s sailing I would give up and take to swimming!” He laughed uproariously and tipped the glass up.

“I'm going to the Indies,” Henry observed, with thought to bring him back to talking of the sea.

“The Indies? Why, so am I, to-morrow in the morning; out for Barbados with knives and sickles and dress goods for the plantations. It's a good ship—a Bristol ship—but the master’s a hard man all stiff with religion out of the colony at Plymouth. Hell-fire he roars at you and calls it prayer and repentance, but I'm thinking there’s joy in all the burning to him. We'll all burn a good time if he has his way. I do not understand the religion of him; there's never an Ave Mary about it, and so how can it be religion at all?”

“Do you think—do you think, perhaps—I could