tow?'

'A cow!' I cried.

'A cow! what d'ye take me for? A wench, man, and as tight a little
craft as ever sailed into the port of wedlock.'

'I have heard no better news for many a long day,' said I; 'I did not
even know that you were betrothed. When thou is the wedding to be?'

'Go slow, friend--go slow, and heave your lead-line! You have got out
of your channel, and are in shoal water. I never said as how I was
betrothed.'

'What then?' I asked.

'I am getting up anchor now, to run down to her and summon her. Look
ye, lad,' he continued, plucking off his cap and scratching his ragged
locks; 'I've had to do wi' wenches enow from the Levant to the
Antilles--wenches such as a sailorman meets, who are all paint and
pocket. It's but the heaving of a hand grenade, and they strike their
colours. This is a craft of another guess build, and unless I steer wi'
care she may put one in between wind and water before I so much as know
that I am engaged. What think ye, heh? Should I lay myself boldly
alongside, d'ye see, and ply her with small arms, or should I work
myself clear and try a long range action? I am none of your slippery,
grease-tongued, long-shore lawyers, but if so be as she's willing for a
mate, I'll stand by her in wind and weather while my planks hold out.'

'I can scarce give advice in such a case,' said I, 'for my experience