to join.

Of course Buzzby was ready to go, and, what was of far greater
importance in the matter, his wife threw no obstacle in the way. On the
contrary, she undid the lashings of the helm with her own hand, and told
her wondering partner, with a good-humoured but firm smile, to steer
where he chose, and she would content herself with the society of the
two young Buzzbys (both miniature fac-similes of their father) till he
came back.

Once again a whale-ship prepared to sail from the port of Grayton, and
once again Mrs. Bright and Isobel stood on the pier to see her depart.
Isobel was about thirteen now, and as pretty a girl, according to
Buzzby, as you could meet with in any part of Britain. Her eyes were
blue and her hair nut-brown, and her charms of face and figure were
enhanced immeasurably by an air of modesty and earnestness that went
straight home to your heart, and caused you to adore her at once. Buzzby
doated on her as if she were his only child, and felt a secret pride in
being in some indefinable way her protector. Buzzby philosophized about
her, too, after a strange fashion. "You see," he would say to Fred,
"it's not that her figurehead is cut altogether after a parfect
pattern--by no means, for I've seen pictur's and statues that wos
better--but she carries her head a little down, d'ye see, Master Fred?
and there's where it is; that's the way I gauges the worth o' young
women, jist accordin' as they carry their chins up or down. If their
brows come well for'ard, and they seems to be lookin' at the ground they
walk on, I knows their brains is firm stuff, and in good workin' order;
but when I sees them carryin' their noses high out o' the water, as if
they wos afeard o' catchin' sight o' their own feet, and their chins
elewated, so that a little boy standin' in front o' them couldn't see