plashy jerks of launching, the plunging, and the gurgling, and the quiet
murmur of cleft waves.

That child slept on, in the warm good luck of having no boat keel
launched upon him, nor even a human heel of bulk as likely to prove
fatal. And the ancient woman fell asleep beside him, because at her time
of life it was unjust that she should be astir so early. And it happened
that Mrs. Cockscroft followed her troubled husband down the steep,
having something in her pocket for him, which she failed to fetch to
hand. So everybody went about its own business (according to the laws
of nature), and the old woman slept by the side of the child, without
giving him a corner of her scarlet shawl.

But when the day was broad and brave, and the spirit of the air was
vigorous, and every cliff had a color of its own, and a character to
come out with; and beautiful boats, upon a shining sea, flashed their
oars, and went up waves which clearly were the stairs of heaven; and
never a woman, come to watch her husband, could be sure how far he had
carried his obedience in the matter of keeping his hat and coat on;
neither could anybody say what next those very clever fishermen might
be after--nobody having a spy-glass--but only this being understood
all round, that hunger and salt were the victuals for the day, and
the children must chew the mouse-trap baits until their dads came home
again; and yet in spite of all this, with lightsome hearts (so hope
outstrips the sun, and soars with him behind her) and a strong will,
up the hill they went, to do without much breakfast, but prepare for a
glorious supper. For mackerel are good fish that do not strive to live
forever, but seem glad to support the human race.

Flamburians speak a rich burr of their own, broadly and handsomely