Howsomiver, the Wise One sez it's all right!" "And who is the Wise One ?" asked Helmsley, trying to rouse himself from the heavy thoughts engendered in his mind by the wail of the sea.
"The Wise One was a man what wrote a book a 'underd years ago about 'erbs," said Peke.

"'_The Way o' Long Life_,' it's called, an' my father an' grandfather and great-grandfather afore 'em 'ad the book, an' I've got it still, though I shows it to nobody, for nobody but me wouldn't unnerstand it.

My father taught me my letters from it, an' I could spell it out when I was a kid--I've growed up on it, an' it's all I ever reads.

It's 'ere"-- and he touched his ragged vest.

"I trusts it to keep me goin' 'ale an' 'arty till I'm ninety,--an' that's drawin' it mild, for my father lived till a 'underd, an' then on'y went through slippin' on a wet stone an' breakin' a bone in 'is back; an' my grandfather saw 'is larst Christmas at a 'underd an' ten, an' was up to kissin' a wench under the mistletoe, 'e was sich a chirpin' old gamecock.