Kate Marion Tucker, The Haunted Ship
“ Under his sou’wester she could see frayed ends of his snow-white hair and his eyes shone as cold ice shines when the winter sky is unclouded.“Hallelujah, Jo-ey,” he shouted as he came abreast of them, shifting his bitten pipe to the other corner of his shaven lips. “Ain’t you a mite late? A spry boy like you layin’ abed till afternoon! You oughter be ashamed of yourself.”“It wasn’t his fault,” Ann spoke bravely into the unsmiling face. “We delayed him. He promised to take us out in the boat with him this morning and he had to wait for us. We’re the lazy ones, not Jo.” ”
