human
Indeed, Faith was saying,
gpt
I've heard of you, Mr. Cory, and hoped we might meet sooner. We don't go about much, with my father so much away at sea. You was of Deerfield, I think?
human
Yes. Why, that was no croak!
gpt
I feel it to be long ago.
human
True, Faith, their tutor and I, we make 'em toil like galley slaves. Harvard in the autumn--the both of 'em, I'm proud to say. Might have entered last year, but I wished 'em better prepared, Mr. Leverett of Harvard concurring, seeing they had no classics in childhood.
gpt
Your brother isn't in Boston today to see the _Artemis_?
human
No, Mistress Faith, he--well....
gpt
Mr. Reuben, said Uncle John too lightly,
human
Ah, the _pretty_ thing! Faith exclaimed, and Ben gave her credit for divine tactfulness.
gpt
Mr. Kenny, why is the bowsprit slanted so low to the water? I never saw the like on another vessel, no never.
human
A whim of mine, my dear. I meddled with the builders. But your father hath told me the thought's good--larger spread of jib, and a stronger angle against the tension of the stays. Yet when I wanted it so I merely thought 'twould make a handsomer line to the eye. Mph!--so peradventure art is good for something?
gpt
Sir.... The lonely blue-eyed man had come lightly from the end of the wharf, his hat held to his breast with no attempt to hide its shabbiness. His shoes were cracked and stained. A rip in the green coat was mended with large seaman's stitches, evidence that no woman tended him, that his feline neatness was his own achievement. He bowed, as Mr. Kenny's wizened mask watched courteously down the nose.
human
I fear I intrude--is it I'm addressing the owner of the ketch?
gpt
I am her owner, sir.
human
I've not seen a fairer craft in my seafaring years, and they some twenty or more in all manner of vessels, all manner of places too betwixt here and the Indies, that'll be the eastern Indies--Molucca, Ceylon....