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Bassett, Sara Ware, 1872-1968

"Flood Tide"


"I reckon I had, Zenas Henry," Willie answered, unruffled by the
thrust. "As you say, if you chose to wind yourself up in the eel-grass
it's none of my affair."
Turning his back on his visitor, he bent once more over the pump and
adjusted a leather washer between its rusty joints.
"Now let's give her a try, Jan," he said, as he tightened the screws.
"If that don't fetch her I'm beat."
By this time Jan's faith had lessened, and although he obediently
raised the iron handle and began to ply it up and down, it was obvious
that he did not anticipate success. But contrary to his expectations
there was a sudden subterranean groan, followed by a rumble of
gradually rising pitch; then from out the stubbed green spout a stream
of water gushed forth and trickled into the tub beneath.
"Hurray!" shouted Jan. "There she blows, Willie! Ain't you the
dabster, though!"
The inventor did not immediately acknowledge the plaudits heaped upon
him, but it was evident he was gratified by his success for, as he
wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead he sighed deeply.


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