Blow the Man Down - A Romance of the Coast

"I'll show you my little clasp-book some day, big boy. It's where I

write my verses. I don't show them to anybody. You see, I'm telling you

my secrets! We must tell each other our secrets, you and I! I have put

my philosophy of living into four lines. Listen!

"The future? Why perplex the soul? The past? Forget its woe and strife!

Let's thread each day, a perfect whole, Upon our rosary of Life."

"It's beautiful," he told her.

"Isn't it good philosophy?"

"Yes," he admitted, not daring to doubt the high priestess of the new

cult to which he had been commandeered.

"It saves all this foolish worry. Most of the folks I know are always

talking about the bad things which have happened to them or are peering

forward and hoping that good things will happen, and they never once

look down and admire a golden moment which Fate has dropped into their

hands. You see, I'm poetical this morning. Why shouldn't I be? We love

each other."

"I don't know how to talk," he stammered. "I'm only a sailor. I never

said a word about love to any girl in my life."

"Are you sure you have never loved anybody? Remember, we must tell each

other our secrets."

"Never," he declared with convincing firmness.

She surveyed him, showing the satisfaction a gold-seeker would exhibit

in appraising a nugget of virgin ore. "But you are so big and fine! And

you must have met so many pretty girls!"

He was not restive under this quizzing. "I have told you the truth, Miss

Marston."

"For shame, big boy! 'Miss Marston,' indeed! I am Alma--Alma to you. Say

it! Say it nicely!"

He flushed. He stole a shamefaced glance at the-wheelsman and made a

quick and apprehensive survey of the sacred regions aft.

"Are you afraid, after all I have said to you?"

"No, but it seems--I can hardly believe--"

"Say it."

"Alma," he gulped. "Alma, I love you."

"You need some lessons, big boy. You are so awkward I think you are

telling me the truth about the other girls."

He did not dare to ask her whether she had loved any one else. With all

the passionate jealousy of his soul he wanted to ask her. She, who was

so sure that she could instruct him, must have loved somebody. He tried

to comfort himself by the thought that her knowledge arose from the

efforts either men had made to win her.