corners of his eyes wrinkling. "Mebbe I was behind the door when they
was given out. But a pipeful o' tobacker this time o' the evening
_does_ seem sort o' satisfyin'. That, and knittin'."

Having filled his pipe and lit it, he puffed a few times to get it well
alight and then reached for a covered basket that Louise had noticed on
a small stand under Jerry's cage. He drew from this a half-fashioned
gray stocking that was evidently intended for his own foot and the
needles began to click in his strong, capable hands.

"Supprise you some, does it, Louise?" Cap'n Abe said. "Cap'n Am'zon
taught me. Most old whalers knit. That, an' doin' scrimshaw work, was
'bout all that kep' 'em from losing their minds on them long v'y'ges
into the Pacific. An' I've seen the time myself when I was hi-mighty
glad I'd l'arned to count stitches.

"Land sakes! Some o' them whalin' v'y'ges lasted three-four years.
Cap'n Am'zon was in the old bark _Neptune's Daughter_ when she was
caught in the ice and drifted pretty average close't to the south pole.

"You know," said Cap'n Abe reflectively, "the Antarctic regions ain't
like the Arctic. 'Cause why? There ain't no folks there. Cap'n
Am'zon says there ain't 'nough land at the south pole to make Marm
Scudder's garden--and they say she didn't need more'n what her
patchwork quilt would cover. Where there's land there's folks. And if
there was land in the Antarctic there'd be Eskimos like there is up
North.

"'Hem! Well, that wasn't what I begun on, was it? This knitting.
Cap'n Am'zon says that many's the time he's thanked his stars he knowed