Do, Will!" "What's the use, Mary, if folk won't believe one. There are things I saw with my own eyes, that some people would pish and pshaw at, as if I were a baby to be put down by cross noises. But I'll tell you, Mary," with an emphasis on you, "some more of the wonders of the sea, sin' you're not too wise to believe me. I have seen a fish fly." This did stagger Mary. She had heard of mermaids as signs of inns, and as sea-wonders, but never of flying fish. Not so Job. He put down his pipe, and nodding his head as a token of approbation, he said, "Aye! aye! young man. Now you're speaking truth." "Well, now, you'll swallow that, old gentleman. You'll credit me when I say I've seen a critter half fish, half bird, and you won't credit me when I say there be such beasts as mermaids, half fish, half woman. To me, one's just as strange as t'other." "You never saw the mermaid yoursel," interposed Margaret, gently. But "love me, love my dog," was Will Wilson's motto, only his version was, "Believe me, believe Jack Harris"; and the remark was not so soothing to him as it was intended to have been. "It's the Exocetus; one of the Malacopterygii Abdominales," said Job; much interested. "Aye, there you go! You're one o' them folks as never knows beasts unless they're called out o' their names. Put 'em in Sunday clothes, and you know 'em, but in their work-a-day English you never know nought about 'em. I've met wi' many o' your kidney; and if I'd ha' known it, I'd ha' christened poor Jack's mermaid wi' some grand gibberish of a name. Mermaidicus Jack Harrisensis; that's just like their new-fangled words. D'ye believe there's such a thing as the Mermaidicus, master?" asked Will, enjoying his own joke uncommonly, as most people do. "Not I! tell me about the ----" "Well!" said Will, pleased at having excited the old gentleman's faith and credit at last, "it were on this last voyage, about a day's sail from Madeira, that one of our men----" "Not Jack Harris, I hope," murmured Job. "Called me," continued Will, not noticing the interruption, "to see the what d'ye call it--flying fish I say it is. It were twenty feet out o' water, and it flew near on to a hundred yards. But I say, old gentleman, I ha' gotten one dried, and if you'll take it, why I'll give it you; only," he added in a lower tone, "I'd wish you'd just gie me credit for the Mermaidicus." I really believe, if the assuming faith in the story of the mermaid had been made the condition of receiving the flying fish, Job Legh, sincere man that be was, would have pretended belief; he was so much delighted at the idea of possessing this specimen. He won the sailor's heart by getting up to shake both his hands in his vehement gratitude, puzzling poor old Alice, who yet smiled through her wonder; for she understood the action to indicate some kindly feeling towards her nephew. Job wanted to rove his gratitude, and was puzzled how to do it. He feared the young man would not appreciate any of his duplicate Araneides; not even the great American Mygale, one of his most precious treasures; or else he would gladly have bestowed any duplicate on the donor of a real dried Exocetus. What could he do for him? He could ask Margaret to sing.
Other folks beside her old doating grand father thought a deal of her songs.
