Chapter VIII: The Ship

The next morning was Sunday, and Peggy’s heart sank when her aunt said to her, “I think I won’t let you out of my sight to-day, Peggy, for something always happens whenever you go even into the garden alone.”

“It seems to,” Peggy admitted sadly, but she did not like the idea of remaining all day long with Aunt Euphemia.

Church was long and hot, and then there was dinner, and then Aunt Euphemia said she would read Peggy a story. Peggy did not care about this; she wanted to go out, and yet did not dare to say so. But just as they were sitting down to read, Dr. Seaton came in, and Peggy was delighted to have the reading stopped.

“I’ve come to take Peggy with me to the harbour, if you will allow it, Miss Roberts,” he said. “I promised to take her there some day, and I have more time this afternoon than on week days.”

Aunt Euphemia was really rather pleased to get Peggy off her hands for an hour. She was feeling sleepy, and it was a bother to her to look after Peggy, so she consented to Dr. Seaton’s proposal without any difficulty.

It was not a long walk to the harbour, where there was much to see.

“I am going to take you on to a Danish ship,” Dr. Seaton said; “you will hear the men talking a queer language you have never heard before, and the captain will take you down into his cabin, I dare say.”

The Danish ship was lying close up to the quay. It was painted very bright emerald green, and Dr. Seaton pointed out to Peggy the figure of a woman made of wood and painted white which was at the bow of the ship.

“Poor lady, she goes through all the storms with her white dress. When she comes into harbour after a winter storm she is crusted over with salt from the waves,” he said.

“Why do they have a wooden lady at the end of the ship?” Peggy asked.

“Because they think it brings luck to the ship,” said Dr. Seaton.

They came to the side of the quay, and he called to some of the sailors, and they came running forward to lift Peggy on board.

Sailors are always specially clean and tidy on Sunday, dressed in their best clothes. They were such nice-looking men—tall, with yellow hair; and Peggy noticed the rings in their ears at once. Of course, she couldn’t speak to them, or at least they couldn’t understand what she said; but the captain took her hand, and led her all round the ship, letting her look at everything she wanted to see—the huge anchor, all red with rust, that took ever so many men to lift; and what interested Peggy more than anything—the cargo of tubs that the ship had brought over. There were tubs of every imaginable size, down to tiny ones of white wood.

“Oh, I could wash my doll’s clothes in these!” Peggy cried. She wanted one dreadfully, and yet didn’t know how to get it, for the man wouldn’t understand about her doll. As she was standing there saying, “Doll, doll, doll,” and looking wistfully at the dear little tubs, Dr. Seaton came round again from the cabin where he had been seeing a boy with a broken arm.

“Oh, I do want a tub to wash my doll’s clothes in so dreadfully!” Peggy cried, “and he doesn’t understand what I mean.”

Dr. Seaton said something in German, and in a minute the captain began to pull out dozens of tubs for Peggy to choose from. But she was not quite pleased till she had explained through Dr. Seaton that she wanted to buy the tub. “I would never _ask_ for anything,” she explained—“mother doesn’t let me do that; and I’ve got a whole shilling of my own to pay it with.”

Dr. Seaton had to explain this to the captain, and they both laughed a great deal.

“But you must pay it for me just now please, Dr. Seaton, because I haven’t my shilling with me,” Peggy explained; and then a horrid fear overcame her that perhaps Dr. Seaton did not carry so much money about with him either, and she would have to go away without her tub; and he had told her that the ship would sail next morning!

She began to look very dismal at this thought, while Dr. Seaton was feeling in his pocket; but to her great relief he drew out quite a handful of shillings, and gave one to the captain, who took it and laughed again.

“There now, Peggy; you can choose which you like best,” he said.

It took Peggy a very long time to make up her mind. At last she chose a beautiful little tub, oval shaped, bound with three hoops of white wood, and with two handles to lift it by. Dr. Seaton wanted to hold it for her, but Peggy wouldn’t let it out of her own hands, she was so well pleased with it.

The captain told her that the tubs came from a place in Russia with a funny name—Archangel; and that pleased Peggy even more, because it was so much more interesting to have an Archangel tub than an ordinary Scotch or English one.

Then the captain led the way down into his cabin. The cabin of a ship like this is not like that of a large passenger steamer. It is almost as small and dark as a cupboard, and has only just room for a tiny table and two or three chairs. The table was securely fixed to the floor, so that when the sea was rough with big waves it should not slide about.

The captain brought out from a cupboard a funny-shaped bottle, and the smallest glasses Peggy had ever seen. He poured a little stuff out of the bottle into the glasses, and offered one to Dr. Seaton, who took it and smiled; then the captain took one, and held it out, and knocked the edge of the little glasses together, making a tinkling sound like a bell.

“What does he do that for?” Peggy asked.

“It’s a way of being friendly and polite in Denmark,” Dr. Seaton replied.

Then they both smiled and nodded again, and each drank off the stuff from the glass.

“Let me taste, please,” said Peggy, standing on tip-toe by the table.

“You would think it horrid,” said Dr. Seaton, laughing; “it would burn your throat.”

“Oh, just a _tiny_ taste—just the tip of my tongue; I want to so much,” said Peggy.

So the captain poured another drop into the tiny glass, and tinkled the edge against his own; and Peggy, thinking she must imitate Dr. Seaton’s manners, bowed and smiled and tried to give the same funny gulp down of the liquid as he had done. But there was only a drop at the bottom of the glass, and that drop was such horrid stuff, it was like trying to swallow mustard, Peggy thought. She coughed, and coughed, and coughed till her eyes filled with tears, and both the men stood laughing at her.

“That will cure you of drinking habits, young woman,” said Dr. Seaton, “Now we must say good-bye and come home.”

Peggy was very sorry to leave the ship, for there seemed to be all manner of queer things to see there still. But she said good-bye to the captain very nicely—so nicely that he told her to wait for a minute; and going to the cupboard, he drew out from it a huge scarlet shell, which he handed to Peggy with a bow.

“O Peggy, that is a present you will like!” said Dr. Seaton.

Peggy could scarcely believe her own good luck. The shell was so perfectly beautiful; and Dr. Seaton showed her also that if she held it to her ear she would hear a rushing noise inside it.

“O captain, thank you _very, very_ much,” said Peggy, quite overcome with delight.—“I think you must carry the tub, Dr. Seaton, for I can’t give my shell out of my hands,” she said.

Dr. Seaton translated her thanks to the captain, and he seemed very pleased, and told Peggy he had a little girl on the other side of the sea just her age. Peggy stood still looking very uncertain and sad at this bit of news. Then she pulled at Dr. Seaton’s hand and whispered something to him. She felt it was her duty to say so, but it was so difficult that she could not say it out loud. It was this,—

“Won’t his little daughter want the shell?”

She waited very impatiently to hear what answer the captain would make; but, to her great relief, he said that his daughter had lots of shells, because he took them home to her from almost every voyage. Then they all shook hands, and Peggy was lifted up on to the quay again, clasping her large red shell.

“I shall always be able to hear the sea now, even when I go home far away from it,” she said.

When they reached Seafield, Peggy ran into her room, and came back with a little netted purse in her hand. Out of this she took her shilling, and gave it to Dr. Seaton for the tub. But Dr. Seaton would not take the shilling, and Peggy was quite distressed, and turned to Aunt Euphemia to know what she ought to do. “Please, auntie, I bought a tub, and now Dr. Seaton won’t take my shilling,” she said. Aunt Euphemia, too, tried to make him take it, but all in vain.

So Peggy had to replace the shilling in her purse, and thank him very much.