"That's so!" the chorus murmured again. "That was what we was; boys!"
"And when I think," Salem Rock went on, "that I shall never more so go and so find her again--sittin' in that chair--nor hear her so speak--I tell you, boys, it breaks me all up; it doos so."
Again there was a sympathetic murmur; heads were shaken, and feet shuffled uneasily. The men were all glad to have a voice for their grief, but all had not the gift of speech.
"I remember"--Salem Rock was still the speaker; he was a slow, thoughtful man, and gathered momentum as he went on--"the first time ever I saw Mis' Tree, to remember it. I couldn't ha' been more than six years old, and I was sittin' in the front dooryard makin' mud pies, and she came in on some errand to mother. Mother used to spin yarn for her, same as my woman does now--did, I'm obleeged to say. Wal, she had on her grand bunnit and shawl, and I had never seen nothin' like her before. Ma'rm never took me to meetin' till I was seven, and she showed judgment. Wal, sirs, that ancient woman--she wasn't ancient then, of course, but yet she wasn't young, and she appeared ancient to me--looked me over, and spoke up sharp and crisp. 'Stand up, boy,' she says, 'and take your hat off; quick!'
"I tell ye, there didn't no grass grow under me! I was up fast as my legs could scramble.
"'That's right!' she says; 'always stand up and take off your hat when a lady comes into the yard.'
"'Be you a lady?' says I. Lord knows what kind of notion I had; children don't always know what they are saying.
"'I am the Queen of the Cannibal Islands!' says she.
"I never misdoubted but what she was, and I didn't know what Cannibal Islands meant.
"'I'll tell you what my husband's name is,' says she. 'His name is
"'Chingy Fungy Wong, Putta-potee da Kubbala Kong, Flipperty Flapperty Busky Bong, The King of the Cannibal Islands.'
"Then she went into the house, and I stood starin' after her with my mouth gappin' open. She didn't stay long, and, when she came out again, up I jumps without waitin' to be told. She looks at me ag'in, that quick way she had, like a bird. 'Finished your pie?' says she.
"'I'll buy it,' says she. 'Here's the money!' and she gives me a bright new ten-cent piece,--it was the first ever I had in my life,--and walked off quick and light before ever I could say a word. Well, now, sirs, if children ain't cur'us things! I was a slow child most ways,--ben slow all my life long, but it come over me then quick as winkin', she had paid for that pie, and it was hers, and she'd got to have it. I never said a word, but just toddled after down street, holdin' that mud pie as if it was Thanksgivin' mince. I couldn't catch up with her; she walked almighty fast them days, and my legs were short, but I kep' her red shawl in sight, and I see where she went in. Time I got up to the door it was shut, but I banged on it in good shape, and D'reckshy Hawkes come and opened it. She was allus sharp, D'reckshy was, and she couldn't abide no boys but her two, as she called 'em, Arthur and Willy, and they weren't neither one of 'em born then.