Polly gave me a hearty Yorkshire welcome, and we soon gathered about the
small round table. Duncan, with little John on his knee, asked a
blessing, and Polly poured out the tea, and we all did justice to the
meal.

The more I saw of these honest people, the more I liked them and felt
inclined to trust them. When tea was over, Polly took me to see the
guest-chamber in which her husband had offered me a bed. It was a low
room in the roof, containing a plain wooden bedstead, one chair, a small
wash-hand stand, and a square of looking-glass hanging on the wall.
There was no other furniture, and, indeed, there was room for no other,
and the room was unadorned except by three or four funeral cards in
dismal black frames, which were hanging at different heights on the wall
opposite the bed. But the square casement window was thrown wide open,
and the pure sea air filled the little room, and the coarse white
coverings of the bed were spotless, and, indeed, the whole place looked
and felt both fresh and clean.

'You'll pardon me, sir,' said Duncan, 'for asking you to look at such a
poor place.'

'But I like it, Duncan,' I answered, 'and I like you, and I like your
wife, and if you will have me as a lodger, I am willing and glad to
stay.'

The terms were soon agreed upon to the satisfaction of both parties, and
then all things being settled, Polly went to put little John to bed
whilst I went with Duncan to see his boat.

It was an old boat, and it had been his father's before him, and it had