her darkest hour by reflection that no lugger boy ever joined the fishing
fleet with such an equipment of new clothes as her son, was somewhat better
and more cheerful now that the lad had made his first trip and survived it.
Moreover, Tom would be home again that night in all probability, and, since
Michael was last ashore, the butcher from Paul had called and offered three
shillings and sixpence more for the next pig to be killed than ever a
Tregenza pig had fetched until that day. Life therefore held some
prosperity in it, even for Thomasin.

After their dinner both women, the elder with a shawl muffled about her
face, went down the road to Newlyn to see a sight. They stopped at George
Trevennick's little house. It had a garden in front of it with a short
flagstaff erected thereon, and all looked neat, trim and ship-shape as
became the home of a retired Royal Navy man. A wedding was afoot, and Mr.
Trevennick, who never lost an opportunity to display his rare store of
bunting, had plentifully shaken out bright reds and yellows, blues and
greens. The little flags fluttered in four streamers from the head of the
flagstaff, and their colors looked harsh and crude until associated with
the human interests they marked.

Already many children gazed with awe from the road, while a favored few,
including the Tregenzas, stood in Mr. Trevennick's garden, which was raised
above the causeway. Great good-humor prevailed, together with some
questionable jesting, and Joan heard the merriment with a sense of
discomfort. They would talk like this when Joe came back to marry her; but
the great day of a maid's life had lost its greatness for her now. The
rough, good-natured fun grated on her nerves as it had never grated before;
because, though she only guessed at the sly jokes of her elders, something
told her that "Mister Jan" would have found no pleasure in such merriment.
Mrs. Tregenza talked, Mr. Trevennick smoked, and Sally Trevennick, the old