"Can't say exactly," said the man. "We've got a big catboat, but she's
on the stocks gettin' a new stern post put in. You can see her mast
stickin' up over the bluff, there. I don't think there's any other
sailboat in the place jes' now, and Captain Fluke's havin' his fresh
painted. I told him it was a bad time o' the year to do it in; but he's
Captain Fluke, and that's all there's to say about it. There's rowboats;
but Sanpritchit's eight miles from here, and it's a putty long pull
there and back, and I don't know anybody here who'd care to take it. If
ye want to go to Sanpritchit, ye ought to go in a wagon. That's lots the
easiest way."
"Where can I get a horse and vehicle?" I asked quickly, so much enraged
with myself that I was glad to have some one to direct my movements.
"That's more 'n I know, jes' this minute," said the man; "but if ye'll
step inside and sit down, I'll go and ask 'em at the store what they can
do fur ye. If it ain't open yet, I'll know where ter find 'em. If
anybody comes along for a mornin' drink, jes' tell 'em to wait a minute,
and I'll be back."
In about fifteen or twenty minutes the bar-keeper returned, and
announced that I could not hire the horse at the store, for one of his
hind shoes was off, and they wanted to use him any way. He had asked two
or three other people, also, for the village was waking up by this time,
but none of them could let me have a horse.
"But I'll tell ye what ye can do," said the man, "if ye choose to wait
here a little while. The boss of this house went over to Stipbitts last
night to see his mother, and I expect him back putty soon, and I guess
he'll let ye have his hoss. Ye see the people about here ain't used to
hiring hosses, and we is. People as keeps hotels is expected to do it."
There was nothing for me to do but to wait for the return of the
landlord of Central Hotel; and for very nearly an hour I walked up and
down the main street of that wretched little hamlet, the name of which I
neither heard nor asked, cursing my own stupidity and the incapacity of
the waterside rustic.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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