"I hae brought Captain Gordon wi' me to hae a taste o' the trout,"
he said to his mother as we entered the room, where she bent over
the fire.
"Gordon! Gordon! I dinna ken ony Gordon. What's the name o' his
ship?"
"He belongs to the Lydia, the barque that cam' in this forenoon."
"Aw, yes, I ken his ship, but I dinna ken the captain. Yes, yes,
he'll get a taste o' the troot, I warrant him that."
Then turning to Mr. Gordon, she continued: "Ye were never in
Stromness afore, captain? No? Ye maun speak loud--it's terrible
dull o' hearing I am."
The captain looked at Grace as she applied a strange, shell-like
horn to her right ear, and went closer to him.
"The Lydia has a great many mice on board," said the captain.
"Ay, you'll be takin' it out to America for the black folk, no
doubt. It's terrible hot in America, they say. But where got you
the ice? Not from Leith?"
"He didna say ice," interposed Andrew. "The captain says his ship's
full o' mice."
"Ah, mice! What for does he not get a cat?"
"It's your own cat he was wanting to get," said Andrew.
"My cat! my Baudrons! Troth, I dinna think I could part with
Baudrons. I'm terrible fond of Baudrons. Was there not a cat in
Stromness forbye mine?"
Grace said this as she selected some of the largest trout and took
them away to clean.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70