She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me. “It’s very late. ” “I’m afraid it can’t. " Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly.
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