Oliver Onions

“ They came up, the fish-wives of the quay—the women who swear so—they turned out with the men; men and women, there were enough to carry the boat and us with it. Three boats had managed to keep head-up the whole of the day—you know that—and the Lizzie was one of them. The shouts and lanterns were bewildering, and I heard a fellow give a shout of recognition to Osa Couper. We turned into the street that leads to the movable bridge over the river. The river's tidal, of course, and there was a beach of mud and pebbles; and the Portsannet men fought for places as we put her in. ”

“ We knew in our hearts that the Portsannet men would have to man the boat for themselves, for we reeled like drunkards, went forward like drunkards, with the drunkard's instinct for his bed. But we boasted foolishly: we would put out ourselves—take her back that night—show what men could do,—I don't know what. Nobody said it was nonsense. Joe Barker alone seemed to realise that it didn't follow that because we'd got through, the Lizzie Martin had. ”

“ Nobody wants to be told what they don't know. They want to be told what they do know, or think they know. Why, all the fellows we glorify are those who tell us in the main what we already know—tell us we're nearly quite right; a bit—eh?—here, or a trifle there that our worships have overlooked in our general rightness, but wonderfully right on the whole. You'll listen as long as I tell this tale as you already know it; then you'll go away and say, Queer old chap; been master of a grammar-school—disappointed—disillusioned ”

“ Facts are neither the most interesting nor the most important things in the world—not that sort of fact. The knife was a fact, and we're coming to the knife; but it's a good deal like other things in life you look forward to—nothing when you get it. One of these new writers I don't pretend to understand says there are two tragedies in life—not getting what you want, and getting it. I know I used to think that if ever I became head of a decent grammar-school ... ”

“ The fellows who scouted for rising ground appeared and disappeared in the drifts, and the snow crusted on their lanterns, melting and freezing both at once. We couldn't hear the sea now; instead there rose the shrill notes of trees and the silky soft whistle of the ice particles over the snow. ”

“ He paused; and when in a minute he resumed again, there was the same magisterial, slightly querulous note in his voice that we had heard before—the schoolmaster's note.
“Before we go further, let's understand one another,” he said. “When I said that Nunan had a knife, I saw some of you anticipating—making ready—saying to yourselves, Ah! knives mean stabbing; never mind your comments; come to the tale and the knife!—Well, you're wise in your day and generation, but for all that I think you're a little wrong too. The tale's a good deal, but the man who tells it is also something. ”

“ We came to a quickset hedge: they dug through the drift to it, slapped the quarters of the horses with the shovels, and we came through with branches of briar and thorn caught in the trace-ropes.
“It's seven miles to Portsannet, with High Lee village half way, and after that the Heights, seven hundred feet of them. I came on to shovel with the second shift. You can dig till you can't straighten your back. I thought myself strong, but—well, a grammar-school was what I was really working for in those days. ”

“ Queer people—dark, whipcord-looking fellows, and one singularly handsome woman, very swarthy and black-eyed. I remember our women looked at her as if—as if—but our women lived in houses, you see.... Well, first of all we asked them about the Lizzie Martin; but they'd never heard of her. Was she a South Ness boat? they asked. Next we asked them if there was much snow on the Heights; and they answered, No; the Heights were swept clean, but a man could not stand upright there for the wind. No snow was falling, they told us ”

“ Then you can go on digging till you don't mind so much; you're getting stupid then—what employers of bodily labour call a 'good man'; and I began to be a good man—except that a good man shouldn't quarrel with his tools, and at the last change I'd got hold of a garden spade instead of a flanged shovel—a thing that carried about half a pound—and a self-emptier, like the new boat. I became so good a man that when a fellow took that spade from me I asked him what an odd hum of vibrating iron was that I'd heard for some time past ”

“ And I know other men think the same. But as soon as it's a question of anybody else's life, the case seems to be different. John Broadwood would have jumped up just the same if Frank Martin had been the biggest rapscallion who ever handled a net. Now where's the sense in it? I'm not saying there isn't any; I'm asking. I went too. I'd have gone in the boat, but it would have kept a better man out of a place; and I ask myself the reason of it all. It isn't reason—can't be; and yet reasonable men will do it. ”

“ Men with horses seemed to join us every few minutes. A man called Lockwood came from Lizzie's old home with two Galloways and a mare in foal, and they hitched them on behind. As they did so we stood for a moment looking down on Portsannet, the river, the scattered lights far up the valley, the grey beyond the harbour-wall.... ”

“ He and Dodd began to fetch out sweeps and spars and ropes and tackle, and the men outside pitched them into the boat. 'Up!' he cried to Broadwood; and John slid down while he got a stone jar of brandy and a couple of pannikins out of the locker. Some walked slowly out and up the beach, looking back over their shoulders, and then all at once a man broke into a quick trot. A dozen hangers-about followed, questioning as they ran. In ten minutes the clattering of horses was heard on the beach; and a man, coming in for more ropes, said that a hundred shovels were clearing the village street.... ”

“ Till we'd come to the Heights we hadn't done enough work to keep us warm, and the High Lee men were frenzied, as we'd been in the wood. Nunan was seeing his quarry every hundred yards, and looking for air-holes, as if his horses had been sheep. Willie Harverson had been left half a mile back at a house—ribs crushed the first time the boat shifted. We digged and hauled and righted the boat, and digged again. The horses rolled with their legs among the ropes; ... the load, ... the keel alone weighed half a ton.... Men were sleeping as they went, and shoving as they slept.... ”

“ There would be a dozen or so men round the hearth; but nobody was drinking, and nobody said anything in Lizzie's presence about what we'd heard of this Osa Couper and the Portsannet boat, you understand. Now and then the child gave a little throaty cry, and once or twice Willie Harverson—he was a young giant, and his curly head always looked too little for his shoulders when he'd got his two or three winter ganseys on,—Willie had told her to bring the child nearer the fire. ”

“ You may be strong, but you can't pitch stuff behind you at three times the ordinary rate with men who are always forking hay, or hoeing turnips, or loading peats; and by the time my turn came round to dig for the second time and the third, I wasn't the only one who was fagging. ”

“ They fixed another spar for a double-tree, and set oars across at intervals to keep that monstrous cat's-cradle in something like position: men were told off specially to watch it. A fellow came shouting up with some oxen; but we couldn't begin to make yokes for his oxen—the fool hadn't brought any; and they were sent back with the lads and worn-out horses to High Lee.
“I forget lots of things that happened just then; but I remember one thing distinctly—I laughed at the High Lee men when we set off again, for they cheered. ”

“ Life goes on, a dull, stretched-out anti-climax; and there seems to be only one finish to it all. I'm an old man, and probably nearer it than you....
“So when Lizzie asked Nunan if he wasn't the handsome gipsy's husband, there was John Broadwood shaking a great fist with a blue anchor on it over Lizzie's shoulder, and Willie making foolish shapes with his mouth without a sound, and Jemmy Wild hawking in his throat and knocking his pipe out noisily; ... but Nunan popped out with it—about Osa and the guns at Portsannet, and so on—and then he spluttered out a 'Hey! ”

“ The other sort are like the revolts that never succeed: they're revolutions when they do. But then, I suppose we could never endure to remember all our pride and confidence that's come to nothing.... So the men kissed their wives. ”