"Why, us does our own washin'."
Tamsin's eyes travelled without bashfulness over the array upon the
beach.
"Pretty washing, I expect!" She walked up and took some of the
clothes into her hand. "Look here--not half-wrung--and some fallen
in the mud and dirtied worse than ever."
With fine contempt she moved among the clothes, wrung them, spread
them out again, and even returned with some to the wash-tub.
Like four whipped schoolboys the males looked on as she tucked up the
sleeves of her neat print gown.
"Soap, too, left to float in the wash-tub, and--salt water I declare!
Caleb, empty this and get some soft water from the old butt by the
back door. Oh, you poor, helpless baby!"
Mr. Fogo, though the words were not spoken to him, winced and turned
to stare abstractedly at the river.
"Sir," said Caleb from his hammock that night, "cudn' 'ee put in a
coddysel?"
"A codicil?"
"Iss, just to say, 'No wimmen allowed but Tamsin Dearlove--us don't
mind she.' Wudn' that do, sir?"
"I'm afraid not, Caleb. By-the-bye, how does your Notice run?
'All women found trespassing will be--'"
"Dealt wi' 'cordin' to the law, sir."
"Dear me, Caleb!" murmured Mr. Fogo, "but I trust that under no
circumstances should I deal with a woman otherwise than according to
the law.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93