The doctor and I have caught more salmon, and some sea-trout, and I have
taken lessons in knitting from some ancient dames whose fingers trembled
either from old age or the excitement of the distinction conferred upon
them. They don't despise my ignorance but are certainly surprised at it.
I am not certain that I have not prompted the arising of certain
jealousies, though I do my best to distribute myself fairly. I cannot as
yet turn a heel but I have hopes. Some day I will make Daddy wear the
things, when he puts on enormous boots and goes quail shooting, after we
go South again. I shall select some day when he has been real mean to me,
and be the blisters on his own heels!
The _Snowbird_ is now riding in the cove, having been manicured and
primped up in the dry-dock at St. John's. Daddy says that it was an
economy, for the dock laborer of that fortunate city does not yet regard
himself as an independent magnate. Our schooner and its auxiliary engine
are, of course, objects of admiration to the natives. They know a boat
when they see one. Stefansson would have a fit if he saw a rope end that
wasn't crown-spliced, or a flemish coil that was not reminiscent of the
works of old masters. The way he keeps his poor crew polishing the
brasses must make life dreary for them, yet they seem to scrub away
without repining. I have told you that Jim Brown, our second, is a native
of these parts and responsible for our coming.
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