on'y a fool,' says she, 'but not even a fool ever come courtin' me, an'
I 'low nobody but a fool would. On'y a fool, Tumm!' says she. 'But _I_
ithn't got nothin' t' boatht of. God made me,' says she, 'an' I ithn't
mad that He done it. I 'low He meant me t' take the firth man that come,
an' be content. I 'low _I_ ithn't got no right t' thtick up my nothe at
a fool. For, Tumm,' says she, 'God made that fool, too. An', Tumm,' says
she, 'I wanth thomethin' elthe. Oh, I wanth thomethin' elthe! I hateth
t' tell you, Tumm,' says she, 'what it ith. But all the other maidth
hath un, Tumm, an' I wanth one, too. I 'low they ithn't no woman happy
without one, Tumm. An' I ithn't never had no chanth afore. No chanth,
Tumm, though God knowth they ithn't nothin' I wouldn't do,' says she,
't' get what I wanth! I'll wed the fool,' says she. 'It ithn't a man I
wanth tho much; no, it ithn't a man. Ith--'

"'What you wantin', Liz?' says I.

"'It ithn't a man, Tumm,' says she.

"'No?' says I. 'What is it, Liz?'

"'Ith a baby,' says she.

"God! I felt bad when she told me that...."

Tumm stopped, sighed, picked at a knot in the table. There was silence
in the forecastle. The _Good Samaritan_ was still nodding to the
swell--lying safe at anchor in Heart's Ease Cove. We heard the gusts
scamper over the deck and shake the rigging; we caught, in the
intervals, the deep-throated roar of breakers, far off--all the noises
of the gale. And Tumm picked at the knot with his clasp-knife; and we