Peter moved uneasily, and frowned at the fresh tears.
"I wisht you wouldn't cry, Jane," he said. "I want to talk sort of business to you this morning." He paused, appalled by the effect his revelation would be apt to have on Jane. It must be made, however, and he plunged into it. "I've got a boy. I've got a little feller about three years old that come to me one night when his ma died, and he ain't got anybody in the world but me, Jane, to take care of him. I've had him some months, down at my boat, and he's the cutest, nicest little tyke you ever set eyes on. Why, he's--he's no more trouble 'round a place than a little kitten or a pup or something like that. You'd be just tickled to death with him. My first notion," he said more slowly, "my first idee was to have him and me come here, so you could be a sort of ma to him, and I could be a sort of pa, so we'd make a sort of family, like. What he's got to have is a good home, first of all, and a shanty-boat ain't that. I see that. But I can see how easy-going I am, and how I might be an expense to you, for awhile anyway, so I thought, maybe, if you would take the boy in--now wait a minute, Jane! Wait a minute! You're bound to hear me out."
His sister had forgotten her sorrows in open-mouthed amazement as Peter talked, but as the startling proposal became clear she dabbled at her eyes, and sniffled. Peter knew what was coming--a new torrent of tears, an avalanche of sorrow.
"For Heaven's sake shut up for a minute 'til I get through!" he cried in exasperation. "You ain't done nothing but weep over me since I was knee high. Give me a rest for one time. I don't need weeping over. I'm all right. Ain't I just said I'll go away again?"
"Yes, I do, too!" said Peter angrily. "I understand you good. All you want is to weep me out of house and home, and I know it. I'm a sort of old bum, and I know that, too, but I've been fair to you right along, and all I get for it is to be wept over, and I'm sick of it. You ain't a sister, you 're a--a fountain. You 're an everlasting fountain. You let me come up and saw your wood, and you weep; and you let me make your garden, and you weep, and if you do give me a meal while I'm working for you it's so wept into that my mouth tastes of salt for a week. I've put up with it just as long as I'm going to."