 CHAPTER VI DANNY Deep Haven seemed more like one of the lazy little English seaside towns than any other. It was not in the least American. There was no excitement about anything. There were no manufactures. Nobody seemed in the least hurry. The only foreigners were few stranded sailors. I do not know when a house or a new building of any kind had been built. The men were farmers, or went outward in boats, or inward in fish wagons, or sometimes mackerel and halibut fishing in schooners for the city markets. Sometimes a schooner came to one of the wharves to load with hay or firewood. But Deep Haven used to be a town of note, rich and busy, as its four-second warehouses show. We knew almost all the fisher people at the shore, even old Dinnit, who lived an apparently desolate life by himself in a hut, and was reputed to have been a blood-thirsty pirate in his youth. He was consequently feared by all the children, and for misdemeanors in his latter days avoided generally. Kate talked with him awhile one day on the shore, and made him come up with her for a bandage for his hand, which she saw he had hurt badly, and the next morning he brought us a new lobster apiece. Fishermen mean that a thing is only not salted when they say it is fresh. We happened to be in the hall, and received him ourselves, and gave him a great piece of tobacco, and unintentionally the means of drinking our health. Bless your pretty hearts, said he. May you be happy and live long, and get good husbands, and if they ain't good to you, may they die from you. None of our friends were more interesting than the fishermen. The fish houses, which might be called the business center of the town, were at a little distance from the old warehouses, farther down the harbor shore, and were ready to fall down in despair. There were some fishermen who lived nearby, but most of them were also farmers in a small way, and lived in the village or further inland. From our eastern windows we could see the moorings, and we always liked to watch the boats go out or come straying in, one after the other, ripping and skimming under the square little sails. And we often went down to the fish houses to see what kind of a catch there had been. I should have imagined that the sea would become very commonplace to men whose business was carried on in boats, and who had spent night after night and day after day from their boyhood on the water. But that is a mistake. They have an awe of the sea and of its mysteries, and of what it hides away from us. They are childish in their wonder at any strange creature which they find. If they have not seen the sea serpent they believe, I am sure, that other people have. And when a great shark or blackfish or swordfish was taken and brought in shore, everybody went to see it, and we talked about it, and how brave its conqueror was, and what a fight there had been for a long time afterward. I said that we liked to see the boats go out, but I must not give you the impression that we saw them often, for they wade anchor at an early hour in the morning. I remember once there was a light fog over the sea, lifting fast as the sun was coming up, and the brownish sails disappeared in the mist, while voices could still be heard for some minutes after the men were hidden from sight. This gave one a curious feeling, but afterward, when the sun had risen, everything looked much the same as usual. The fog had gone, and the dories and even the larger boats were distant specs on the sparkling sea. One afternoon we made a new acquaintance in this wise. We went down to the shore to see if we could hire a conveyance to the lighthouse the next morning. We often went out early in one of the fishing boats, and after we had stayed as long as we pleased Mr. Q would bring us home. It was quiet enough that day, for not a single boat had come in, and there were no men to be seen along shore. There was a solemn company of lobster-coops or cages which had been brought in to be mended. They always amused Kate. She said they seemed to her like droll old women telling each other secrets. These were scattered about in different attitudes, and looked more confidential than usual. Just as we were going away, we happened to see a man at work in one of the sheds. He was the fisherman whom we knew least of all, an odd-looking, silent sort of man, more sun-burnt and weather-beaten than any of the others. We had learned to know him by the bright red flannel shirt he always wore, and besides he was lame. Someone told us he had had a bad fall once on board ship. Kate and I had always wished we could find a chance to talk with him. He looked up at us pleasantly, and when we nodded and smiled he said, Good day, in a gruff, hearty voice, and went on with his work cleaning mackerel. Do you mind our watching you? asked Kate. No, ma'am, said the fisherman emphatically. So there we stood. Those fish houses were curious places, so different from any other kind of workshop. In this there was a sain, or part of one, festooned among the cross-beams overhead, and there were snarled fishing-lines and burrows to carry fish in, like wheel-barrows without wheels. There were the queer-round lobster-nets and kits of salt-mackerel, tubs of bait and piles of clams, and some queer bones and parts of remarkable fish, and lobster claws of surprising size fastened on the walls for ornament. There was a pile of rubbish down at the end. I dare say it was all useful, however. There is such mystery about the business. Kate and I were never tired of hearing of the fish that come at different times of the year and go away again, like the birds, or of the actions of the dog-fish, which the longshoremen hate so bitterly, and then there are such curious legends and traditions of which almost all fishermen have a store. I think mackerel are the prettiest fish that swim, said I presently. So do I, miss, said the man. Not to say, but I've seen more fancy-looking fish down in southern waters, bright as any flower you ever see, but a mackerel, holding up one admiringly. Why, they're so clean-built and trig-looking, put a cod alongside, and he looks as lumbering as an old-fashioned Dutch brig inside a yacht. Those are good-looking fish, but they ain't made much account of. Continued our friend as he pushed aside the mackerel and took another tub. They're hake, I suppose you know, but I forgot. I can't stop to bother with them now. And he pulled forward a barrel full of small fish, flat and hard, with pointed bony heads. Those are porgies, aren't they? asked Kate. Yes, said the man, and I'm going to sliver them for the trawls. We knew what the trawls were, and supposed that the porgies were to be used for bait, and we soon found out what slivering meant by seeing him take them by the head and cut a slice from first one side and then the other in such a way that the pieces looked not unlike a smaller fish. It seems to me, said I, that fishermen always have sharper knives than other people. Yes, we do like a sharp knife in our trade, and then we are mostly strong-handed. He was throwing the porgies' heads and backbones, all that was left of them after slivering, in a heap, and now several cats walked in as if they felt at home and began a hearty lunch. What a troupe of pussies there is round here, said I. I wonder what will become of them in the winter, though to be sure the fishing goes on just the same. The better part of them don't get through the cold winter, said Danny. Two or three of the old ones have been here for years, and are as much belonging to depavement as the Meaton House. But the rest of them ain't to be depended on. You'll miss the young ones by the dozen come spring. I don't know myself, but they move inland in the fall of the year. They're no one enough, if that's all. Kate and I stood in the wide doorway arm in arm, looking sometimes at the queer fishermen and the porgies, and sometimes out to sea. It was low tide, the wind had risen a little, and the heavy salt air blew toward us from the wet brown ledges in the rocky harbour. The sea was bright blue and the sun was shining. Two gulls were swinging lazily to and fro. There was a flock of sandpipers down by the water's edge in a great hurry as usual. Suddenly the fishermen spoke again, beginning with an eyed laugh. I was scared last winter. Jack Scudder and me, we were up in the Captain Manning storehouse, hunting for a half-barrel of salt the skipper said was there. It was an awful blustering kind of day, with a thin icy rain blowing from all points at once. See roaring as if it wished it could come ashore and put a stop to everything. Bad days at sea them are. Rigging all froze up. As I was saying, we were hunting for a half-barrel of salt, and I laid whole of a barrel that had something heavy in the bottom and tilted it up, and my eye, there was a stir and a scratch and a squeal, and out went some kind of a creature, and I jumped back, not looking for anything live. But I see in a minute it was a cat, and perhaps you think it is a big story. But there were eight more in there, hived in together to keep warm. I cowered them up some new fish that night. They seemed short of provisions. We hadn't been out fishing as much as common, and they hadn't dared to be round the fish-house as much, for a fellow who came in on a coaster had a dog, and he used to chase them. Hard chance they had, and lots of them died, I guess. But there seemed to be some surviving relatives, and always just so hungry. I used to feed them some when I was ashore. I think likely you've heard that a cat will fetch you bad luck. But I don't know that made much difference to me. I kind of like to keep on the right side of them, too. If ever I have a bad dream there's sure to be a cat in it. But I was brought up to be clever to dumb beasts, and I guess it's my nature. Except fish, said Danny after a minute's thought. But then it never seems like they had feelings like creatures that live ashore. And we all laughed heartily, and felt well acquainted. I suppose you misses will laugh if I tell you I kept a kitty once myself. This was said rather shyly, and there was evidently a story, so we were much interested, and Kate said, Please tell us about it. Was it at sea? Yes it was at sea, least ways on a coaster. I got her in a singular kind of way. It was one afternoon we were lying alongside Charleston Bridge, and I heard a young cat screeching real pitiful, and after I looked all round I see her in the water clutching on to the pier of the bridge, and some little divils of boys were even rocks down at her. I got into the schooner's tag boat quick, I tell you, and pushed off for her. And she let go just as I got there, and I guess you never saw a more miserable looking creature than I fished out of the water. Cold weather it was, her leg was hurt in her eye, and I thought first I'd drop her overboard again, and then I didn't, and I took her aboard the schooner and put her by the stove. I thought she might as well die where it was warm. She ate a little mite of chowder before night, but she was very slim. But next morning, when I went to see if she was dead, she felt a lick in my finger, and she did purr away like a dolphin. One of her eyes was out, where a stone had took her, and she never got any use of it, but she used to look at you so clever with the other, and she got well of her lame foot after a while. I got to be a terrible fond of her. She was just the knowingest thing you ever saw, and she used to sleep alongside of me in my bunk, and like as not she would go on deck with me when it was my watch. I was coasting then for a year and eight months, and I kept her all the time. We used to be in harbor, considerable, and about eight o'clock in the afternoon I used to drop a line and catch her a couple of cunners. Now it is curious that she used to know when I was fishing for her. She would pounce on them fish and carry them off and growl, and she knew when I got a bite she'd watch the line, but when we were mackereling she never gave us any trouble. She would never lift a paw to touch any of our fish. She didn't have the thieve in ways common to most cats. She used to set round on deck in fair weather, and when the wind blew she always kept herself below. Sometimes when we were in port she would go ashore awhile and fetch back a bird or a mouse, but she wouldn't eat it till she came and showed it to me. She never wanted to stop long ashore, though I never shut her up. I always give her her liberty. I got a good deal of joking about her from the fellows, but she was a sight of company. I don't know as I ever had anything like me as much as she did. Not to say as I ever had much of any trouble with anybody, ashore or afloat. I'm a still kind of fellow for all I look so rough. But then I hadn't had a home, what I call a home, since I was going on nine-year-old. How has that happened? asked Kate. Well, mother, she died and I was bound out to a man in the tanning trade, and I hated him, and I hated the trade, and when I was a little bigger I ran away, and I followed the sea ever since. I wasn't much used to him, I guess, least wise he never took the trouble to hunt me up. About the best place I ever was in was a hospital. It was in foreign parts. You see, I'm crippled some, I fell from the top-sale yard to the deck, and I struck my shoulder and broke my leg, and banged myself all up. It was a nun's hospital where they took me. All of the nuns were Catholic, and they wore big white things on their heads. I don't suppose you ever saw any, have you? Well, now that's queer. When I was first there I was scared of them. They were real ladies, and I wasn't used to being in a house, anyway. One of them. They took care of me most of the time. Why, she would even set up half the night with me, and I couldn't begin to tell you how good-natured she was, and she'd look real sorry, too. I used to be ugly, I ached so, long in the first of my being there, but I spoke of it when I was coming away, and she said it was all right. She used to feed me, that lady did, and there were some days I couldn't lift my head, and she would raise it on her arm. She gave me a little might of a book when I come away. I'm not much of a hand at reading, but I always kept it on account of her. She was so pleased when I got so's to sit up in a chair, and look out of the window. She wasn't much of a hand to talk English. I did feel bad to come away from there. I most wished I could be sick a while longer. I never said much of anything, either, and I don't know but she thought it was queer. But I am a dreadful clumsy man to say anything, and I got flustered. I don't know, I mind telling you. I was most a-crying. I used to think I'd lay by some money and ship for there and carry here something real pretty, but I don't rank able-bodied seamen like I used, and it's as much as I could do to get a berth on a coaster. I suppose I might go as cook. I like to have died with my hurt, that hospital, but when I was getting well it made me think of when I was a might of a chap to home before mother died, to be laying there in a clean bed with somebody to do for me. Guess you think I'm a good hand to spin long yarns. Somehow it comes easy to talk to-day. What became of your cat? Asked Kate after a pause, during which our friend sliced away at the porgies. I never rightfully knew. It was in Salem Harbor in a windy night. I was on deck considerable for the schooner pitched lively, and once or twice she dragged her anchor. I never saw the kitty after she ate her supper. I remember I gave her some milk. I used to buy her a pint once in a while for a treat. I don't know but she might have gone off on a cake of ice, but it did seem as if she had too much sense for that. Most likely she missed her footing and fell overboard in the dark. She was marked real pretty black and white, and kept herself just as clean. She knew as well as could be when foul weather was coming. She would bother round and act queer, but when the sun was out she would sit round on deck as pleased as queen. There! I feel bad sometimes when I think of her, and I never went into Salem since without hoping that I should see her. I don't know, but I was a-going to begin my life over again. I'd settle down a shore and have a snug little house and farm it. But I guess I shall do better at fishing. Give me a trick-built top-sale schooner painted up nice with a stripe on her and clean sails and a fresh wind with the sun shining, and I feel first rate. Do you believe that codfish swallow stones before a storm? asked Kate. I had been thinking about the lonely fisherman in a sentimental way, and so irrelevant a question shocked me. I saw he felt slightly embarrassed at having talked about his affairs so much, Kate told me afterward, and I thought we should leave him feeling more at his ease if he talked about fish for a while. And sure enough he did seem relieved, and gave us his opinion about the codfish at once, adding that he never cared much for cod anyway. Folks up country bought him a good deal, he heard. Give him a haddock right out of the water for his dinner. I never can remember, said Kate, whether it is cod or haddock that have a black stripe along their sides. Oh, those are haddock, said I. They say that the devil caught a haddock once and it slipped through his fingers and got scorched, and so all the haddock had the same mark afterward. Well, now, how did you know that old story? said Danny, laughing heartily. He mustn't believe all the old stories you hear, mind ye. Oh, no, said we. Hello, there's John Togerson's boat close and shore. She sets low in the water, so he's done well. He and Skipper Scudder have been out deep sea fishing since yesterday. Our friend pushed the porgues back into a corner, stuck his knife into a beam, and we hurried down to the shore. Kate and I sat on the pebbles, and he went out to the moorings in a dirty dory to help unload the fish. We afterward saw a great deal of Danny, as all the men called him. But though Kate and I tried our best and used our utmost skill and tact to make him tell us more about himself, he never did. But perhaps there was nothing more to be told. The day we left Deep Haven we went down to the shore, to say good-bye to him, and to some other friends, and he said, going, are ye? Well, I'm sorry. You've treated me first rate, the Lord bless ye. And then was so mortified at the way he had said farewell that he turned and fled round the corner of the fish-house. CHAPTER 9 All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Betsy Busch, in Marquette, MI, September 2008. Sands was one of the most prominent citizens of D. Paven, and a very good friend of Kate's and mine. We often met him and grew much interested in him before we knew him well. He had a reputation in town for being peculiar and somewhat visionary. But everyone seemed to like him, and at last one morning, when we happened to be on our way to the wharves, we stopped at the door of an old warehouse which we had never seen opened before. Captain Sands sat just inside, smoking his pipe, and we said good morning, and asked him if he did not think there was a fog coming in by and by. We had thought a little of going out to the lighthouse. The Captain rose slowly and came out so that he could see farther around to the east. There's some scud coming in already, said he, none to speak of yet. I don't know as you can see it. Yes, you're right. There's a heavy bank of fog laying off. But it won't be in under two or three hours yet, unless the wind backs round more and freshens up. Weren't thinking of going out, were ye? A little, said Kate, but we had nearly given it up. We are getting to be very weather-wise, and we pride ourselves on being quick at seeing fogs. At which the Captain smiled and said we were considerable young to know much about weather. But it looked well that we took some interest in it. Some young people were fools about weather, and would just as soon set off to go anywhere right under the edge of a thundershower. Come in and set down, won't ye? he added. Ain't much of a place. I've got a lot of old stuff stowed away here that the women folks don't want up to the house. I'm a great hand for keeping things. And he looked round fondly at the contents of the wide, low room. I come down here once in a while and let in the sun, and sometimes I want to hunt up something or another, kind of stow away place, ye see. And then he laughed apologetically, rubbed his hands together, and looked out to see again, as if he wished to appear unconcerned. Yet we saw that he wondered if we thought it ridiculous for a man of his age, to have treasured up so much trumpery in that cobwebby place. There were some whole oars in the sail of his boat, and two or three killicks and painters. Not to forget a heap of worn-out oars and sails in one corner, and a sailor's hammock slung across the beam overhead. And there were some sailor's chests and the capstan of its ship, and innumerable boxes which all seemed to be stuffed full, besides no end of things lying on the floor and packed away on shelves and hanging to rusty, big-headed nails in the wall. I saw some great lumps of coral and large, rough shells, a great hornet's nest, and a monstrous lobster shell. The capan head cobbled and tied up some remarkable old chairs for the accommodation of himself and his friends. What a nice place! said Kate in a frank, delighted way which could not have failed to be gratifying. Well, no, said the capan with his slow smile. It ain't what you'd rightly call nice, as I know of. It ain't never been cleared out all at once since I began putting in. There's nothing that's worth anything either to anybody but me. Life, she's said to me a hundred times. Why don't you overhaul them old things and burn them? She's always at me about letting the property, as if it were a corner lot in broadway. That's all women folks know about business. And here the captain caught himself tripping and looked uneasy for a minute. I suppose I might have let it for a fish-house, but it's most too far from the shore to be handy. And well, there are some things here that I said a good deal by. Isn't that a swordfish's sword in that piece of wood? Kate asked presently, and was answered that it was found broken off as we saw it in the hall of a wreck that went ashore on Blue Point when the captain was a young man. And he had sighed it out and kept it ever since. Fifty-nine years. Of course, we went closer to look at it, and we both felt a great sympathy for this friend of ours, because we have the same fashion of keeping worthless treasures, and we understand perfectly how dear such things may be. Do you mind if we look around a little? I asked doubtfully, for I knew how I should hate having strangers look over my own treasury. But Captain Sands looked pleased at our interest, and said cheerfully that we might overhaul as much as we chose. It discovered first an old battered wooden figurehead of a ship, a woman's head with long curly hair falling over the shoulders, the paint was almost gone, and the dust covered most of what was left. Still there was a wonderful spirit and grace and a wild weird beauty which attracted us exceedingly. But the captain could only tell us that it had belonged to the wreck of a Danish brig, which had been driven on the reef where the lighthouse stands now, and his father had found this on the long sands a day or two afterward. That was a dreadful storm, said the captain. I've heard the old folks tell about it. It was when I was only a year or two old. There were three merchant men wrecked within five miles of deep haven. This one was all stove to splinters, and they used to say she had treasures aboard. When I was small I used to have a great idea of going out there to the rocks at low water and trying to find some gold. But I never made out no great. And he smiled indulgently at the thought of his youthful dream. Kate, said I, do you see what beauties these turks' head knots are? We had been taking a course of first lessons and knots from Danny, and had followed by learning some charmingly intricate ones from Captain Lant, the stranded mariner who lived on a farm two miles or so inland. Kate came over to look at the turks' heads, which were at either end of the rope handles of a little dark blue chest. Captain Sands turned in his chair and knotted approval. That's a neat piece of work, and it was a first-rate seaman who did it. He's dead and gone years ago, poor young fellow. An Italian he was, who sailed on the Ranger three or four long voyages. He fell from the mast head on the voyage from Calleo. Captain Manning and old Mr. Lorimer, they owned the Ranger, and when she came into port and they got the news they took it, as much to heart as if he'd been some relation. He was smart as a whip and had a way with him, and the pleasantest kind of a voice, you couldn't help liking him. They found out that he had a mother alive in Port Man, and they sent his pay and some money he had in the bank at Riverport, out to her by a ship that was going to the Mediterranean. He had some clothes in his chest, and they sold those and sent her the money. All but some trinkets they supposed he was keeping for her. I recollect he used to speak considerable about his mother. I shipped one voyage with him before the mast, before I went outmate of the daylight. I happened to be in port the time the Ranger got in, and I see this chest laying round in Captain Manning's storehouse, and I offered to give him what it was worth. But we was good friends and he told me take it if I wanted it. It was no use to him, and I've kept it ever since. There are some of his traps in it now, I believe. You can look. And we took off some tangled cod lines and opened the chest. There was only a round wooden box in the till, and in some idle hour at sea the young sailor had carved his initials and an anchor in the date on the cover. We found some sail-needles and a palm in his kit, as the sailors call it, and a little string of buttons with some needles and yarn and thread and a neat little bag, which perhaps his mother had made for him when he started off on his little voyage. Besides these things there was only a fanciful little broken buckle, green and gilt, which he might have picked up in some foreign street, and his protection paper carefully folded wherein he was certified as being citizen of the United States, with dark complexion and dark hair. He was one of the pleasantest fellows that ever I shipped with, said the captain with a gruff tenderness in his voice, always willing to do his work himself, and likes not when the other fellows up on the rigging were cold or ugly about something or another. He'd say something that would set them all laughing, and somehow it made you good nature to see him round. He was brought up a Catholic, I suppose. Anyway, he had some beads, and sometimes they would joke him about them on board ship, but he would blaze up in a minute, ugly as a tiger. I never saw him mad about anything else, though he wouldn't stand it if anybody tried to crowd him. He fell from the main to gallant yard to the deck, and was dead when they picked him up. They were off the Bermudas. I suppose he lost his balance, but I never could see how. He was sure-footed, and as quick as a cat. They said they saw him try to catch at the stay. But there was a heavy sea running, and the ship rolled just so as to let him through between the rigging, and he struck the deck like a stone. I don't know as that chest has been open to these ten years. I declare it carries me back to look at those poor little traps of his. Well, it's the way of the world. We think we're somebody, and we have our day, but it isn't long before we're forgotten. The captain reached over for the paper, and taking out a clumsy pair of steel-boat spectacles read it through carefully. I'll warrant he took good care of this, said he. He was an Italian, and no more of an American citizen than a Chinese. I wonder he hadn't called himself John Jones. That's the name most of the foreigners use to take when they got their papers. I remember once I was sick with a fever in Chelsea Hospital, and one morning they came bringing in the mate of a Portuguese brig on a stretcher, and the surgeon asked what his name was. John Jones says he. Oh, say something else, says the surgeon. We've got five John Joneses here already, and it's getting to be no name at all. Sailors are great hands for false names. They have a trick of using them when they have any money to leave shore, for fear their shipmates will go and draw it out. I suppose there are thousands of dollars unclaimed in New York banks, where men have left it charged to their false names. Then they get lost at sea or something, and never go to get it. And nobody knows who's it is. Their curious folks take them all together, sailors is, especially them foreign fellows that wander about from ship to ship. They're getting to be a dreadful low set, too, of late years. It's the last thing I'd want a boy of mine to do, ship before the mast with one of these mixed crews. It's a dog's life anyway, and the risks and the chances against you are awful. It's a good while before you can lay up anything, unless you are part owner. I saw all the points a good deal plainer after I quit following the sea myself, though I've always been more or less into navigation until this last war came on. I know when I was ship's husband of the Polly and Susan there was a young man went out captain of her. Her last voyage and she never was heard from. He had a wife and two or three little children. And for all he was so smart they would have been about the same as beggars if I hadn't happened to have his life insured the day I was having the papers made out for the ship. I happened to think of it. Five hundred dollars there was, and I sent it to the widow along with his primage. She hadn't expected nothing, or next to nothing, and she was pleased, I tell ye. I think it was very kind in you to think of that, Captain Sands, said Kate, and the old man said, flushing a little. Well, I'm not so smart as some of the men who started when I did, and some of them went ahead of me, and some of them didn't, after all. I've tried to be honest and to do just about as nigh right as I could, and you know there's an old saying that a cripple in the right road will beat a racer in the wrong. CHAPTER VIII. THE CIRCUS AT DENBY Kate and I looked forward to a certain Saturday with as much eagerness as if we had been little schoolboys, for on that day we were to go to a circus at Denby, a town perhaps eight miles inland. There had not been a circus so near Deep Haven for a long time, and nobody had dared to believe the first rumor of it, until two dashing young men had deigned to come themselves to put up the big posters on the end of Bai Jamali's barn. All the boys in town came as soon as possible to see these amazing pictures, and some were wretched in their secret hearts at the thought that they might not see the show itself. Tommy Dockham was more interested than anyone else, and mentioned the subject so frequently one day when he went black-burying with us, that we grew enthusiastic, and told each other what fun it would be to go, for everybody would be there, and it would be the greatest loss to us if we were absent. I thought I had lost my childish fondness for circuses, but it came back redoubled, and Kate may contradict me if she chooses, but I am sure she never looked forward to the Easter oratorio with half the pleasure she did to this caravan, as most of the people called it. We felt that it was a great pity that any of the boys and girls should be left lamenting at home, and finding that there were some of our acquaintances and Tommies who saw no chance of going, we engaged Joe Sands and Leander Dockham to carry them to Denby in two fish wagons with boards laid across for the extra seats. We saw them join the straggling train of carriages, which had begun to go through the village from all along shore, soon after daylight, and they started on their journey shouting and carousing with their pockets crammed with early apples and other provisions. We thought it would have been fun enough to see the people go by, for we had had no idea until then how many inhabitants that country held. We had asked Mrs. Q to go with us, but she was half an hour later than she had promised, for since there was no wind she could not come ashore in the sailboat, and Mr. Q had had to row her in in the dory. We saw the boat at last nearly in shore, and drove down to meet it. Even the horse seemed to realize what a great day it was, and showed a disposition to friskiness, evidently as surprising to himself as to us. Mrs. Q was funnier that day than we had ever known her, which is saying a great deal, and we should not have had half so good a time if she had not been with us. Although she lived in the lighthouse, she had no chance to see passing, which a woman prizes so highly in the country, she had a wonderful memory for faces, and could tell us the names of all teapay-venors, and of most of the people we met outside its limits. She looked impressed and solemn as she hurried up from the water's edge, giving Mr. Q some parting charges over her shoulder as he pushed off the boat to go back. But after we had convinced her that the delay had not troubled us, she seemed more cheerful. It was evident that she felt the importance of the occasion, and that she was pleased at our having chosen her for company. She threw back her veil entirely, sat very straight, and took immense pains to bow to every acquaintance whom she met. She wore her best Sunday clothes, and her manner was formal for the first few minutes. It was evident that she felt we were meeting under unusual circumstances, and that although we had often met before on the friendliest terms, our having asked her to make this excursion in public required a different sort of behavior at her hands, and a due amount of ceremony and propriety. But this state of things did not last long, as she soon made a remark at which Kate and I laughed so heartily in lighthouse acquaintance fashion that she unbent, and gave her whole mind to enjoying herself. When we came by the shore where the post office was kept, we saw a small knot of people gathered round the door, and stopped to see what had happened. There was a forlorn horse standing near, with his harness tied up with fuzzy ends of rope, and the wagon was cobbled together with pieces of board. The whole craft looked as if it might be wrecked with the leased jar. In the wagon were four or five stupid-looking boys and girls. One of them was crying softly. Their father was sick, someone told us. He has took faint, but he is coming to all right. They have given him something to take. Their name is Craper, and they live way over beyond the ridge on Stone Hill. They were going over to Denby to the circus, and the man was calculating to get doctored. But I don't know if he can get so fur. He is powerful, slim-looking to me. Kate and I went to see if we could be of any use, and when we went into the store we saw the man leaning back in his chair, looking ghastly pale, and as if he were far gone in consumption. Kate spoke to him, and he said he was better. He had felt bad all the way along, but he hadn't given up. He was pitiful, poor fellow, with his evident attempt at dressing up. He had the busiest, dustiest red hair and whiskers, which made the pallor of his face still more striking, and his illness had thinned and paled his rough, clumsy hands. I thought what a hard piece of work it must have been for him to start for the circus that morning, and how kind-hearted he must be to have made such an effort for his children's pleasure. As we went out they stared at us gloomily, the shadow of their disappointment touched and chilled our pleasure. Somebody had turned the horse so that he was heading toward home, and by his actions he showed that he was the only one of the party who was glad. We were so sorry for the children. Perhaps it had promised to be the happiest day of their lives, and now they must go back to their uninteresting home without having seen the great show. I am so sorry you were disappointed, said Kate, as we were wondering how the man who had followed us would ever climb into the wagon. Huh? said he, blankly, as if he did not know what her words meant. What fool has been a turn and owe this horse? he asked a man who was looking on. Why, which way be you going? To the circus, said Mr. Craper, with decision. Where do you suppose? That's where I started for her anyways. And he climbed in and glanced round to count the children, struck the horse with a willow switch, and they started off briskly, while everybody laughed. Kate and I joined Miss Cue, who had enjoyed the scene. Well, there, said she. I wonder the folks in the old North Barrian ground ain't a rising up to go to Denby to that caravan. We reached Denby at noon. It was an uninteresting town, which had grown up around some mills. There was a great commotion in the streets, and it was evident that we had lost much in not having seen the procession. There was a great deal of business going on in the shops, and there were two or three hand organs at large, near one of which we stopped awhile to listen, just after we had met Leander, and given the horse into his charge. Mrs. Cue finished her shopping as soon as possible, and we hurried toward the great tents, where all the flags were flying. I think I have not told you that we were to have the benefit of seeing a menagerie in addition to the circus, and you may be sure we went faithfully round to see everything that the cages held. I cannot truthfully say that it was a good show. It was somewhat dreary, now that I think of it quietly and without excitement. The creatures looked tired, and as if they had been on the road for a great many years. The animals were all old, and there was a shabby great elephant whose look of general discouragement went to my heart, for it seemed as if he were miserably conscious of a misspent life. He stood dejected and motionless at one side of the tent, and it was hard to believe that there was a spark of vitality left in him. A great number of the people had never seen an elephant before, and we heard a thin old man who stood near us, say delightedly, There's the old creature, and no mistake, Anne Liza. I wanted to see him most of anything. My sakes, ain't he big? And Anne Liza, who was stout and sleepy-looking, droned out, Yes, there's considerable of him, but he looks as if he ain't got no animation. Kate and I turned away and laughed while Mrs. Q said confidently as the couple moved away. She needn't be a reflected on the poor beast. That's Ms. Seth Tanner. There isn't a woman in deep haven nor east parish to be named the same day with her for laziness. I'm glad she didn't catch sight of me. She'd have talked about nothing for a fortnight. There was a picture of a huge snake in deep haven, and I was just wondering where he could be, or if there ever had been one, when we heard a boy ask the same question of the man whose thankless task it was to stir up the lions with a stick to make them roar. The snake's dead, he answered good-naturedly. Didn't you have to dig an awful long grave for him? Asked the boy. But the man said he reckoned they curled him up some, and smiled as he turned to his lions, who looked as if they needed a tonic. Everybody lingered longest before the monkeys, who seemed to be the only lively creatures in the whole collection, and finally we made our way into the other tent, and perched ourselves on a high seat, from whence we had a capital view of the audience and the ring, and could see the people come in. Mrs. Q was on the look out for acquaintances, and her spirits as well as our own seemed to rise higher and higher. She was on the alert moving her head this way and that to catch sight of people, giving us a running commentary in the meantime. It was very pleasant to see a person so happy as Mrs. Q was that day, and I dare say in speaking of the occasion she would say the same thing of Kate and me, for it was such a good time. We bought some peanuts, without which no circus seems complete, and we listened to the conversations which were being carried on around us while we were waiting for the performance to begin. There were two old farmers whom we had noticed occasionally in Deep Haven. One was telling the other with great confusion of pronouns about a big pig which had lately been killed. John did feel dreadful disappointed at having to kill now, we heard him say, being as he was calculated to kill long near Thanksgiving time. There was going to be a new moon then, and he expected to get seventy-five or a hundred pound more on to him. But he didn't seem to gain, and me and Vaja both told him he'd be better to kill now, while everything was favorable, and if he set out to wait something might happen to him, and then I've always held that you can't get no hog only just so far, and for my part, I don't like these great overgrown creatures. I like well enough to see a hog that'll weigh six hundred, just for the beauty, aunt. But for my eaten, give me one that'll just rise three. Vaja's accurate, and he says he is going to weigh rise in five hundred and fifty. I shall stop as I go home to John's wife's brothers, and see if they've got the particulars yet. John was going to set the scales this morning. I guess likely considerable. Many'll gather there tomorrow after meeting. John didn't calculate to cut up till Monday. I guess likely I'll stop in tomorrow, said the other man. I like to see a handsome hog. Chester White, you said? Consider them best, don't ye? But this question never was answered, for the greater part of the circus company in gorgeous trappings came parading in. The circus was like all other circuses except that it was shabbier than most, and the performers seemed to have less heart in it than usual. They did their best and went through with their parts conscientiously, but they looked as if they never had had a good time in their lives. The audience was hilarious, and cheered and laughed at the tired clown until he looked as if he thought his speeches might possibly be funny after all. We were so glad we had pleased the poor thing, and when he sang a song our satisfaction was still greater, and so he sang it all over again. Perhaps he had been associating with people who were used to circuses. The afternoon was hot, and the boys with Japanese fans and trays of lemonade did a remarkable business for so late in the season. The brass band on the other side of the tent shrieked its very best, and all the young men of the region had brought their girls, and some of these countless pairs of country lovers we watched a great deal, as they kept company with more or less depth of satisfaction in each other. We had a grand chance to see the fashions, and there were many old people and a great number of little children, and some families had evidently locked their house door behind them since they had brought both the dog and the baby. Doesn't it seem as if you were a child again? Kate asked me. I am sure this is just the same as the first circus I ever saw. It grows more and more familiar, and it puzzles me to think they should not have altered in the least while I have changed so much, and have even had time to grow up. You don't know how it is making me remember other things of which I have not thought for years. I was seven years old when I went that first time. Uncle Jack invited me. I had a new parasol, and he laughed because I would hold it over my shoulder when the sun was in my face. He took me into the side shows, and bought me everything I asked for on the way home, and we did not get home until twilight. The rest of the family had dined at four o'clock and gone out for a long drive, and it was such fun to have our dinner by ourselves. I sat at the head of the table in Mama's place, and when Bridget came down and insisted that I must go to bed, Uncle Jack came softly upstairs and sat by the window smoking and telling me stories. He ran and hid in the closet when he heard Mama coming up, and when she found him out by the cigar smoke and made belief scold him, I thought she was in earnest and begged him off. Yes, and I remember that Bridget sat in the next room, making her new dress so she could wear it to church next day. I thought it was a beautiful dress and besought Mama to have one like it. It was bright green with yellow spots all over it, said Kate. Ah, poor Uncle Jack. He was so good to me. We were always telling stories of what we would do when I was grown up. He died in Canton the next year, and I cried myself ill, but for a long time I thought he might not be dead after all, and might come home any day. He used to seem so old to me, and he really was just out of college and not so old as I am now. That day at the circus he had a pink rosebud in his buttonhole. And ah, when have I ever thought of this before? A woman sat before us who had a stiff little cape on her bonnet like a shelf, and I carefully put peanuts around the edge of it, and when she moved her head they would fall off. I thought it was the best fun in the world. And I wished Uncle Jack to ride the donkey. I was sure he could keep on before his horse had capered about with him one day on Beacon Street, and I thought him a perfect rider since nothing had happened to him then. I remember, said Mrs. Q presently, that just before I was married he took me to Warham Corners to a caravan. My sister Hannah, and the young man who was keeping company with her, went too. I haven't been to one since till today. And it does carry me back, same as it does you, Miss Kate. It doesn't seem more than five years ago. And what would I have thought if I had known he and I were going to keep a lighthouse and be contented there? What's more, and sometimes not get ashore for a fortnight? Settled gray-headed old folks? We were gay enough in those days. I know old Miss Sabrina Smith warned me that I had better think twice before I took up with Tom Q, for he was a light-minded young man. I speak of that to him in the wintertime. When he sets reedin' the almanac half asleep and I'm nittin' and the winds a-howling and the waves coming ashore on those rocks as if they wished they could put out the light and blow down the lighthouse. We were reflected on a good deal for going to that caravan. Some of the old folks didn't think it was improving. Well, I should think that man was a-trying to break his neck. Coming out of that great tent was disagreeable enough, and we seemed to have chosen the worst time, for the crowd pushed fiercely, though I suppose nobody was in the least hurry, and we were all severely jammed, while from somewhere underneath came the whales of a deserted dog. We had not meant to see the sideshows and went carelessly past two or three tents, but when we came in sight of the picture of the Kentucky giantess, we noticed that Mrs. Q looked at it wistfully, and we immediately asked if she cared anything about going to see the wonder, whereupon she confessed that she never heard of such a thing as a woman's weighing six hundred and fifty pounds, so we all three went in. There were only two or three persons inside the tent, besides a little boy who played the hand organ. The Kentucky giantess sat in two chairs on a platform, and there was a large cage of monkeys just beyond, toward which Kate and I went at once. Why, she isn't more than two-thirds as big as the picture, said Mrs. Q in a regretful whisper, but I guess she's big enough. Doesn't she look discouraged, poor creature? Kate and I felt ashamed of ourselves for being there. No matter if she had consented to be carried round for a show, it must have been horrible to be stared at and joked about a day after day, and we gravely looked at the monkeys, and in a few minutes turned to see if Mrs. Q were not ready to come away. When, to our surprise, we saw that she was talking to the giantess with great interest, and we went nearer. I thought your face looked natural the minute I set foot inside the door, said Mrs. Q, but you've altered some since I saw you, and I couldn't place you till I heard you speak. Why, you used to be spare. I'm amazed, merrily. Where are your folks? I don't wonder you are surprised, said the giantess. I was a good ways from this when you knew me, wasn't I? But, Father, he ran through with every scent he had before he died, and he took to drink, and it killed him after a while, and then I began to grow worse and worse till I couldn't do nothing to earn a dollar, and everybody was a-coming to see me till last I used to ask him ten cents apiece, and I scratched along somehow till this man came round and heard of me, and he offered me my keep and good pay to go along with him. He had another giantess before me, but she had begun to fall away considerable, so he paid her off and let her go. This other giantess was an awful expense to him. She was such an eater. Now I don't have no great of an appetite. This was said plaintively, and he's raised my pay since I've been with him because we did so well. I took up with his offer because I was nothing but a drag and never will be. I'm as comfortable as I can be, but it's a pretty hard business. My oldest boy is able to do for himself, but he's married this last year, and his wife don't want me. I don't know as I blame her either. It would be something like if I had a daughter now, but there I'm getting to like traveling first rate. It gives anybody a good deal to think of. I was asking the folks about you when I was up home the early part of the summer, said Mrs. Q, but all they knew was that you were living out in New York State. Have you been living in Kentucky long? I saw it on the picture outside. No, said the giantess. That was a picture the man bought cheap from another show that broke up last year. It says six hundred and fifty pounds, but I don't weigh more than four hundred. I haven't been weighed for some time past. Between you and me, I don't weigh so much as that. But you mustn't mention it, for it would spoil my reputation and might hinder my getting another engagement. And then the poor giantess lost her professional look and tone, as she said, I believe I'd rather die than grow any bigger. I do lose heart sometimes, and wish I was a smart woman and could keep house. I'd be smarter than ever I was when I had the chance, I tell you that. Is Tom along with you? No, I came with these young ladies, Ms. Lane-Caster and Ms. Dennis, who are stopping over to depave him for the summer. Kate and I turned as we heard this introduction. We were standing close by, and I am proud to say that I never saw Kate treat anyone more politely than she did that absurd, pitiful creature with a guilt crown and many bracelets. It was not that she said much, but there was such an exquisite courtesy in her manner and an apparent unconsciousness of there being anything in the least surprising or uncommon about the giantess. Just then a party of people came in, and Mrs. Q said goodbye reluctantly. It has done me sights of good to see you, said our new acquaintance. I was feeling downhearted just before you came in. I'm pleased to see somebody that remembers me as I used to be. And they shook hands in a way that meant a great deal. And when Kate and I said good afternoon, the giantess looked at us gratefully and said, I'm very much obliged to you for coming in, young ladies. Walk in, walk in! The man was shouting as we came away. Walk in and see the wonder of the world, ladies and gentlemen, the largest woman ever seen in America, the great Kentucky giantess. Wouldn't you have liked to stay longer? Kate asked Mrs. Q as we came down the street. But she answered that it would be no satisfaction. The people were coming in, and she would have no chance to talk. I never knew her very well. She is younger than I, and she used to go to meet and where I did. But she lived five or six miles from our house. She's had a hard time of it, according to her account, said Mrs. Q. She used to be a dreadful, flighty, high-tempered girl, but she's lost that now, I can see by her eyes. I was running over in my mind to see if there was anything I could do for her, but I don't know as there is. She said the man who hired her was kind. I guess you're treating her so polite, did her as much good as anything. She used to be real ambitious. I had it on my tongue's end to ask her if she couldn't get a few days leave and come out to stop with me, but I thought just in time that she'd sink the door in a minute. There, seeing her, has took away all the fun, said Mrs. Q ruefully, and we were all dismal for a while. But at last, after we were fairly started for home, we began to be merry again. We passed to the Craper family, whom we had seen at the store in the morning. The children looked as stupid as ever, but the father, I am sorry to say, had been tempted to drink more whiskey than was good for him. He had a bright flush on his cheeks, and he was flourishing his whip and hoarsely singing some meaningless tune. Poor creature, said I, I should think this day is pleasuring with kill him. Now wouldn't you think so? said Mrs. Q sympathizingly. But the truth is, you couldn't kill one of those creepers if you pounded him in a mortar. We had a pleasant drive home, and we kept Mrs. Q to supper, and afterward went down to the shore to see her set sail for home. Mr. Q had come in some time before, and had been waiting for the moon to rise. Mrs. Q told us that she should have enough to think of for a year. She had enjoyed the day so much, and we stood on the pebbles watching the boat out of the harbor, and wishing ourselves on board. It was such a beautiful evening. We went to another show that summer, the memory of which will never fade. It is somewhat impertinent to call it a show, and public entertainment is equally inappropriate, though we certainly were entertained. It had been raining for two or three days. The deep havenites spoke of it as a spell of weather. Just after tea one Thursday evening, Kate and I went down to the post office. When we opened the great hall door, the salt air was delicious, but we found the town apparently wet through and discouraged, and though it had almost stopped raining just then, there was a scotch mist, like a snowstorm with the chill taken off, and the chantry elms dripped hurriedly and creaked occasionally in the east wind. There will not be a captain in the wharves for a week after this, said I, to Kate. Only think of the cases of rheumatism. We stopped for a few minutes at the crews, who were as much surprised to see us as if we had been mermaids out of the sea, and begged us to give ourselves something warm to drink, and to change our boots the moment we got home. Then we went on to the post office. Kate went in, but stopped, as she came out with her letters, to read a written notice securely fastened to the grocery door by four large carpet-tacks with wide leathers round their necks. Dear, said she exultantly, there's going to be a lecture tonight in the church, a free lecture on the elements of true manhood. Wouldn't you like to go? And we went. We were fifteen minutes later than the time appointed, and were sorry to find that the audience was almost imperceptible. The dampness had affected the antiquated lamps, so that those on the walls and on the front of the gallery were the dimmest lights I ever saw, and sent their feeble rays through a small space, the edges of which were clearly defined. There were two rather more energetic lights on the table near the pulpit, where the lecturer sat, and as we were in the rear of the church we could see the yellow fog between ourselves and him. There were fourteen persons in the audience, and we were all huddled together in a cowardly way in the pews nearest the door. Three old men, four women, and four children, the sides ourselves in the sexton, a deaf little old man with a wooden leg. The children whispered noisily, and soon to our surprise the lecturer rose and began. He bowed and treated us with beautiful deference, and read his dreary lecture with enthusiasm. I wish I could say, for his sake, that it was interesting, but I cannot tell a lie, and it was so long. He went on and on until it seemed as if I had been there ever since I was a little girl. Kate and I did not dare to look at each other, and in my desperation at feeling her quiver with laughter, I moved to the other end of the pew, knocking over a big hymn-book on the way, which attracted so much attention that I have seldom felt more embarrassed in my life. Kate's great dog rose several times to shake himself and yawn loudly, and then lie down again despairingly. You would have thought the man was addressing an enthusiastic young men's Christian association. He exhorted with fervor upon our duties as citizens and as voters, and told us a great deal about George Washington and Ben Franklin, whom he urged us to choose as our examples. He waited for applause after each of his outbursts of eloquence, and presently went on again, in no wise, disconcerted at the silence, and as if he were sure that he would fetch us next time. The rain began to fall again heavily, and the wind wailed around the meeting-house. If the lecture had been upon any other subject, it would not have been so hard for Kate and me to keep sober faces, but it was directed entirely toward young men, and there was not a young man there. The children in front of us mildly scuffled with each other at one time, until the one at the end of the pew dropped a marble, which struck the floor and rolled with a frightful noise down the edge of the aisle, where there was no carpet. The congregation instinctively started up to look after it, but we recollected ourselves, and leaned back again in our places, while the odd children, after keeping unnaturally quiet, fell asleep, and tumbled against each other helplessly. After a time the man sat down and wiped his forehead, looking well satisfied, and when we were wondering whether we might with propriety come away, he rose again and said it was a free lecture, and he thanked us for our kind patronage on that inclement night. But in other places which he had visited there had been a contribution taken up for the cause. It would, perhaps, do no harm with the sexton, but the sexton could not have heard the sound of a cannon at that distance and slumbered on. Neither Kate nor I had any money except a twenty-dollar bill in my purse and some coppers in the pocket of her waterproof cloak, which she assured me she was prepared to give. But we gave no signs of the sextons waking, and so one of the women kindly went forward to wake the children. We all rose and came away. After we had made as much fun and laughed as long as we pleased that night, we became suddenly conscious of the pitiful side of it all, and being anxious that anyone should have the highest opinion of Deep Haven, we sent Tom Dockham early in the morning with an anonymous note to the lecturer whom he found without much trouble. But afterward we were disturbed at hearing that he was going to repeat his lecture that evening, the wind having gone round to the northwest, and I have no doubt there were a good many women able to be out, and that he harvested enough ten-cent pieces to pay his expenses without our help, though he had particularly told us it was for the cause the evening before, and that ought to have been a consolation. One of the chief pleasures in Deep Haven was our housekeeping. Going to market was apt to use up a whole morning, especially if we went to the fish houses. We depended somewhat upon supplies from Boston, but sometimes we used to chase a butcher who took a drive in his old canvas-topped cart when he felt like it, and as for fish, there were always enough to be caught, even if we could not buy any. Our acquaintances would often ask if we had anything for dinner that day, and would kindly suggest that somebody had been boiling lobsters, or that a boat had just come in with some nice mackerel, or that somebody over on the ridge was calculating to kill a lamb, and we had better speak for a quarter in good season. I'm afraid we were looked upon as being in danger of becoming epicures, which we certainly are not, and we undoubtedly roused a great deal of interest because we used to eat mushrooms, which grew in the suburbs of the town in wild luxurience. One morning Maggie told us that there was nothing in the house for dinner, and taking an early start we went at once down to the store to ask if the butcher had been seen, but finding that he had gone out deep sea fishing for two days, and that when he came back he had planned to kill a veal, we left word for a sufficient piece of the doomed animal to be set apart for our family, and strolled down to the shore to see if we could find some mackerel. But there was not a fisherman in sight, and after going to all the fish houses we concluded that we had better provide for ourselves. We had not brought our own lines, but we knew where Danny kept his, and after finding a basket of suitable size, and taking some clams from Danny's bait-tub, we went over to the hull of an old schooner which was going to pieces alongside one of the ruined wharves. We looked down the hatchway into the hold, and could see the flounders and sculpin swimming about lazily, and once in a while a little pollock scooted down among them impertently, and then disappeared. There's that same big flounder that we saw a day before yesterday, said I. I know him because one of his fins is half gone. I don't believe he can get out, for the hole in the side of the schooner isn't very wide, and it is higher up than flounders ever swim. Perhaps he came in when he was young, and was too lazy to go out until he was so large he couldn't. Flounders always look so lazy, and as if they thought a great deal of themselves. I hope they will think enough of themselves to keep away from my hook this morning, said Kate philosophically, and the sculpin, too. I am going to fish for conners alone and keep my line short. And she perched herself on the quarter, baited her hook carefully, and threw it over, with a clam shell to call attention. I went to the rail at the side, and we were presently much encouraged by pulling up two small conners, and felt that our prospects for dinner were excellent. Then I unhappily caught so large a sculpin that it was like pulling up an open umbrella. And after I had thrown him into the hold to keep company with the flounder, our usual good luck seemed to desert us. It was one of the days when, in spite of twitching the line and using all the tricks we could think of, the conners would either eat our bait or keep away altogether. Kate at last said, we must starve unless we could catch the big flounder, and asked me to drop my hook down the hatchway. But it seemed almost too bad to destroy his innocent happiness. Just then we heard the noise of oars, and to our delight saw Captain Sands in his dory just beyond the next wharf. Any luck, said he. Suppose you don't care anything about going out this morning? We are not amusing ourselves. We are trying to catch some fish for dinner, said Kate. Could you wait out by the red buoy while we get a few more, and then should you be back by noon, or are you going for a longer voyage, Captain Sands? I am going out to Black Rock for conners myself, said the Captain. I should be pleased to take you, if you'd like to go. So we wound up our lines and took our basket and clams and went round to meet the boat. I felt like rowing, and took the oars while Kate was mending her sinker, and the Captain was busy with a snarled line. It's pretty hot, said he presently, but I see a breeze coming in, and the clouds seem to be thickening. I guess we shall have it cooler long towards noon. It looked last night as if we were going to have foul weather, but the scud seemed to blow off, and it was as pretty a morning as ever I see. A growing moon chaws up the clouds, my grandfather used to say. He was as no one about the weather as anybody I ever came across. Most always hit it just about right. Some folks lay all the weather to the moon, according to where she quarters, and when she's in Paraguay we're going to have this kind of weather, and when she's in Apigay, she's got to do so and so for Sarton. Grandher, he used to laugh at all them things. He said it never made no kind of difference, and he went by the looks of the clouds and the feel of the air, and he thought folks couldn't make no kind of rules that held good that had to do with the moon. Well, he did used to depend on the moon some. Everybody knows we aren't so likely to have foul weather in a growing moon as we be when she's waning. But some folks I could name, they can't do nothing without having the moon's opinion on it. When I went my second voyage before the mast, we was in port ten days in Catiz, and the ship she needed Sulton dreadful. The mate kept telling the captain how low the salt was in her, and we was going a long voyage from there. But no, he wouldn't have her salted know-how, because it was the wane of the moon. He was an amazing set kind of man, captain was, and would have his own way on sea or shore. The mate was his own brother, and they used to fight like a cat and dog. They owned most of the ship between them. I was slushing the mison mast and heard him a dispute about the salt. The captain was a first-rate seaman and died rich, but he was dreadful notional. I know one time he was a lion out in the stream, all ready to weigh anchor, and something was in trim. The men were up in the rigging and a fresh breeze going out, just what he'd been waiting for, and the word was passed to take in sail and make everything fast. The men swore, and everybody said the captain had had some kind of a warning. But that night it began to blow, and I tell you, a four morning we were glad enough we were in harbour. The old victor, she dragged her anchor, and the four to gallant sail and royal got loose somehow and was blown out of the bolt ropes. Most of the canvas and riggings was old, but we had first-rate weather after that, and didn't bend near all the new sail we had aboard. Though the captain was most afraid, we'd come short when we left Boston. That was most sixty years ago, said the captain reflectively. How time does slip away. You young folks haven't any idea. She was a first-rate ship, the old victor was. Though I suppose she wouldn't cut much of a dash now alongside of some of the new clippers. There used to be some strangel-concrafts in those days. There was the old brig Hannah. They used to say she would sail backwards as fast as forwards, and she was so square in the bows they used to call her the sugar-box. She was master-old, the Hannah was, and there wasn't a port from here to New Orleans where she wasn't known. She used to carry a master cargo for her size, more than some ships that ranked two hundred and fifty ton, and she was put down for two hundred. She used to make good voyages, the Hannah did. Then there was the pectilus. She was just about such another. You would have laughed to see her. She sailed out of this port for a good many years. Captain Wall, he told me that if he had her before the wind with a cargo of cotton, she would make a middling good run. But load her deep with salt, and you might as well try to sail a stick of oak timber with a handkerchief. She was a stout-built ship. I shouldn't wonder if her timbers were afloat somewhere yet. She was sold to some parties out in San Francisco. There, everything's changed from what it was when I used to follow the sea. I wonder sometimes if the sailors have as queer works aboard ship as they used. Bless ye, deep haven used to be a different place to what it is now. There was hardly a day in the year that you didn't hear the shipwright's hammers, and there was always something going on at the wharves. You would see the folks from upcountry coming in with their loads of oak knees and plank, and logs or rock maple for keels when there was snow on the ground in wintertime. And the big sticks of timber pine for masts would come crawling along the road with their three and four yoke of oxen all frosted up. The sleds creaking in the snow growling and the men flapping their arms to keep warm, and hallowing as if there wasn't nothing else going on in the world except to get these masts to the shipyard. Bless ye, two of them teams together would stretch from here most up to the widow gym's place. No such timberpines nowadays. I suppose the sailors are very jolly together sometimes, said Kate meditatively, with the least flicker of a smile at me. The captain did not answer for a minute as he was battling with an obstinate snarl in his line. But when he had found the right loop he said, I've had the best times and the hardest times of my life at sea, that's certain. I was just thinking it over when you spoke. I'll tell you some stories one day or another that'll please you. Land, you've no idea what tricks some of those wild fellows will be up to. Now, saying they fetch home a cargo of wines and they want a drink, they've got a trick so they can get it. Say in its champagne, they'll fetch up a basket, and how do you suppose they'll get into it? Of course, we didn't know. Well, every basket will be counted, and they're fastened up particular so they can tell in a minute if they've been tampered with. And neither must you draw the corks if you could get the basket open. I suppose you may have seen champagne, how it's all wired and waxed. Now they take a clean tub, them fellows do, and just shake the basket and jounce it up and down, till they break the bottles and let the wine drain out. Then they take it down in the hold and put it back with the rest. And when the cargo is delivered, there's only one or two whole bottles in that basket, and there's a dreadful fuss about it being stowed so foolish. The captain told this with an air of great satisfaction. But we did not show the least suspicion that he might have assisted at some such festivity. Then they have a way of breaking into a cask. It won't do to start the bong, and it won't do to bore a hole where it can be seen. But they're up to that. They slip back one of the end hoops and bore two holes underneath it, one for the air to go in and one for the liquor to come out. And after they get all out they want, they put in some spigots and cut them down close to the stave. Knock back the hoop again, and there you are, all trig. I never should have thought of it, said Kate admiringly. There isn't nothing, Captain Sands went on, that'll hinder some masters from cheating the owners a little. Get them off in a foreign port, and there's nobody to watch. And they most of them have a feeling that they ain't getting full pay, and they'll charge something to the ship that she never seen nor heard of. There were two ship masters that sailed out of Salem. I heard one of them tell the story. They had both come into port from Liverpool nigh the same time, and one of them he was dressed up in a handsome suit of clothes and the other looked kind of poverty struck. Where did you get them clothes, says he. Why to Liverpool, says the other. You don't mean to say you come away without none cheap as cloth was there. Why yes, says the other, Captain. I can't afford to wear such clothes as those be. And I don't see how you can either. Charge him to the ship, bless ye, the owners expect it. So the next voyage, the poor Captain, he had a nice rig for himself, made to the best tailors in Bristol, and charged it, say, ten pounds in the ship's account. And when he came home, the ship's husband, he was looking over the papers, and what's this, says he. How come the ship to run up a tailor's bill? Why them's minds, says the Captain, very menacing. I understand that there wouldn't be no objection made. Well, you made a mistake, says the other laughing. Guess I'd better scratch this out. And it wasn't long before the Captain met the one who had put him up to do in it. And he gave him a blowin' up for getting him into such a fix. Land sakes alive, says he. Were you fool enough to set it down in the account? Why, I put mine in, so many bolts of Russia duck. Captain Sands seemed to enjoy this reminiscence. And to our satisfaction in a few minutes, after he had offered to take the oars, he went on to tell us another story. Why, as for cheating, there's plenty of that all over the world. The first voyage I went into Havana as Master of the Deerhound. She had never been in the port before, and had to be measured and recorded, and then pay her tonnage duties every time she went into port there afterward, according to what she was registered on the Custom House books. The Inspector, he come aboard, and he went below and looked round, and he measured her between decks. But he never offered to set down any figures. And when he came back into the cabin, says he. Yes, yes, good ship. You put one balloon front of this eye, so, says he, and I not see with him. And you put one more to balloon front of this other eye, and how you think I see it all, what figure you write. So I took his book, and I set down her measurements, and made her out 20 ton short. And he took his doubloons and shoved them into his pocket. There, it isn't what you call straight dealing, but everybody's done it that dared, and you'd eat up all the profits of a voyage, and the owners would just as soon you'd try a little upcountry air if you paid all those dues according to law. Tonnage was dreadful high, and wharfage, too, in some ports, and they'd get your last scent some way or another if you weren't sharp. Old Captain Carew, uncle to them you see to Meaton, did a smart thing in the time of the embargo. Folks got tired of it, and it was dreadful hard times. Ships rotten at the wharves, and deep haven never was quite the same afterward. Though the old place held out for a good while before she let go as you see her now. You'd have had a hard grip on it when I was a young man to make me believe it would ever go so dull here. While Captain Carew, he bought an old brig that was lying over by East Parish, and he began fitting her up and loading her for the West Indies. And the farmers, they'd come in there by night from all around the country to sell saltfish and lumber and potatoes, and glad enough they were, I tell you. The rigging was put in order, and it wasn't long before she was ready to sail, and it was all kept mighty quiet. She lay up to an old wharf in a cove where she wouldn't be much noticed, and they took care not to paint her any or to attract any attention. One day, Captain Carew was over in Riverport, dining out with some gentleman, and the revenue officer sat next to him, and by and by says he, why won't you take a ride with me this afternoon? I've been warning that there's a brig loading for the West Indies over beyond deep haven somewheres, and I'm going over to seize her. And he laughed to himself as if he expected fun, and something in his pocket beside. Well, the first minute that Captain Carew dared after dinner, he slipped out, and he hired the swiftest horse to Riverport and rode for dear life, and told the folks who were in the secret, and some who weren't. What was the matter, and every soul turned to and helped finish loading her and getting the rigging ready in the water aboard. But just as they were leaving the cove, the wind was blowing just right. Along came the revenue officer with two or three men, and they come off in a boat and boarded her as important as could be. Won't you step into the cabin, gentlemen, and take a glass of wine? Says Captain Carew, very polite, and the wind came in fresher, something like a squall for a few minutes, and the men had the sail spread before, you could say, Jack Robinson. And before those fellows knew what they were about, the old brig was astanding out to see, and the fellows on the wharves cheered and yelled. Captain gave the officers a good scare and offered them a free passage to the West Indies, and finally they said they wouldn't report at headquarters if he'd let them go ashore. So he told the sailors to lower their boat about two miles off Deep Haven, and they pulled ashore meek enough. Captain Carew was a first great run, and made a lot of money, so I have heard it said. Bless ye, every shipmaster would have done just the same if he had dared, and everybody was glad when they heard about it. Dreadful, foolish piece of business that embargo was. Now I declare, said Captain Sands, after he had finished this narrative. Here I'm telling stories, and you're doing all the work. You'll pull a boat ahead of anybody if you keep on. Tom Q was appraising up both of you to me the other day. Says he, they don't put on no heirs, but I tell you they can pull a boat well and swim like fish, says he. There now, if you'll give me the oars, I'll put the dory just where I want her, and you can be getting your lines ready. I know a place here where it's always tolerable fishing, and I guess we'll get something. Kate and I cracked our clams on the gunwell of the boat, and cut them into nice little bits for a bait with a piece of the shell. And by the time the captain had thrown out the killock, we were ready to begin, and found the fishing much more exciting than it had been at the wharf. I don't know as I ever see them bite faster, said the old sailor presently. Guess it's because they like the folks that's fishing. Well, I'm pleased. I thought I'd let Baisha take some along to Denby in the cart tomorrow if I got more than I could use at home. I didn't calculate on having such a lively crew aboard. I suppose you wouldn't care about going out a little further by and by to see if we can't get two or three haddock. And we answered that we should like nothing better. It was growing cloudy and was much cooler, the perfection of a day for fishing, and we sat there diligently pulling in cunners and talking a little once in a while. The tide was nearly out, and black rock looked almost large enough to be called an island. The sea was smooth, and the low waves broke lazily among the seaweed covered ledges, while our boat swayed about on the water, lifting and falling gently as the waves went inshore. We were not a very long way from the lighthouse, and once we could see Mrs. Q's big white apron as she stood in the doorway for a few minutes. There was no noise except the plash of the low tied waves and the occasional flutter of a fish in the bottom of the dory. Kate and I always killed our fish at once by a wrap on the head, for it certainly saved the poor creatures some discomfort and ourselves as well, and it made it easier to take them off the hook than if they were flopping about and making us aware of our cruelty. Suddenly the captain wound up his line and said he thought we'd better be going in, and Kate and I looked at him with surprise. It's only half past ten, said I, looking at my watch. Don't hurry in our account, added Kate persuasively, for we were having a good time. I guess we won't mind about the haddock. I've got a feeling we'd better go ashore. And he looked up into the sky and turned to see the west. I knew there was something the matter. There's going to be a shower. And we looked behind us to see a bank of heavy clouds coming over fast. I wish we had two pair of oars, said Captain Sands. I'm afraid we shall get caught. You needn't mind us, said Kate. We aren't in the least afraid of our clothes, and we don't get cold when we're wet. We have made sure of that. Well, I'm glad to hear that, said the captain. Women folks are apt to be dreadful scared of a wedding. But I just as life not get wet myself. I had a twinge of rheumatism yesterday. I guess we'll get ashore fast enough. Now, I feel well enough today, but you can row if you want to, and I'll take the oars last part of the way. When we reached the moorings, the clouds were black, and the thunder rattled and boomed over the sea, while heavy spatters of rain were already falling. We did not go to the warves, but stopped down the shore at the fish houses and nearer place of shelter. You just select some of those cunners, said the captain, who was beginning to be a little out of breath. And then you can run right up and get under cover, and I'll put a bit of old sail over the rest of the fish to keep the fresh water off. By the time the boat touched the shore, and we had pulled it up on the pebbles, the rain had begun in good earnest. Luckily, there was a barrow lying near, and we loaded them in a hurry, and just then the captain caught sight of a well-known red shirt in an open door and shouted, Oh, Danny, lend us a hand with these fish, for we're nigh on to being shipwrecked. And then we ran up to the fish house and waited a while, though we stood in the doorway watching the lightning, and there were so many leaks in the roof that we might almost as well have been out of doors. It was one of Danny's quietest days, and he silently beheaded Hake, only winking at us once very gravely at something our other companion said. There, said Captain Sands, folks may say what they have a mind to. I didn't see that shower coming up, and I know as well as I want to that my wife did, and impressed it on my mind. Our house sets high, and she watches the sky, and is always a worrying when I go out fishing for fear something's going to happen to me, especially since I've got to be along in years. This was just what Kate and I wished to hear, for we had been told that Captain Sands had most decided opinions on dreams and other mysteries, and could tell some stories which were considered incredible by even a deep-haven audience to whom the marvelous was of everyday occurrence. Then it has happened before, asked Kate. I wondered why you started so suddenly to come in. Happened, said the Captain. Bless ye, yes. I'll tell you my views about these points one of these days. I've thought a good deal about them by spells. Not that I can explain them, nor anybody else, but it's no use to laugh at them, as some folks do. Captain Lant, you know Captain Lant, he and I have talked it over considerable, and he says to me, Everybody's got some story of the kind they will believe in spite of everything, and yet they won't believe your own. The shower seemed to be over now, and we felt compelled to go home, as the Captain did not go on with his remarks. I hope he did not see Danny's wink. Skipper Scudder, who was Danny's friend and partner, came up just then and asked us if we knew what the sign was when the sun came out through the rain. I said that I had always heard it would rain again next day. Oh, no, said Skipper Scudder, the devil is whipping his wife. After dinner Kate and I went for a walk through some pine woods, which were beautiful after the rain. The mosses and lichens, which had been dried up, were all freshened and blooming out in the dampness. The smell of the wet pitch pines was unusually sweet, and we wandered about for an hour or two there to find some ferns we wanted, and then walked over toward East Parish, and home by the long beach in the afternoon. We came as far as the boat landing, meaning to go home through the lane, but to our delight we saw Captain Sands sitting alone on an old overturned whale boat, whittling busily at a piece of dried kelp. Good evening, said our friend cheerfully, and we explained that we had taken a long walk and thought we would rest a while before we went home to supper. Kate perched herself on the boat, and I sat down on a ship's knee, which lay on the pebbles. Didn't get any hurt from being out in the shower, I hope. No indeed, laughed Kate, and we had such a good time. I hope you won't mind taking us out again sometime. Bless ye, no, said the Captain. My girl, Louisa, she that's Miss Winslow over to Riverport, used to go out with me a good deal, and it seemed natural to have you aboard. I missed Louisa after she got married, for she was always ready to go anywhere along with her father. She's had slim health of late years. I tell him she's been too much, shut up, out of the fresh air and sun. When she was young, her mother never could prevail on her to sit in the house, steady and so. And she used to have great misgivings that Louisa never was going to be capable. How about those fish you caught this morning? Good, were they? Miss Sands had dinner on the stocks when I got home, and she said she wouldn't fry any till supper time. But I calculated to have them this noon. I like them best right out of the water, little more, and we should have got them wet. That's one of my whims. I can't bear to let fish get rained on. Oh, Captain Sands, said I, there being a convenient pause. You were speaking of your wife just now. Did you ask her if she saw the shower? First thing she spoke of when I got into the house. There, says she, I was afraid you wouldn't see the rain coming in time, and I had my heart in my mouth when it began to thunder. I thought you'd get soaked through and be lead up for a fortnight, says she. I guess a summer shower won't hurt an old sailor like me, says I. And the Captain reached for another piece of his kelp stock and whittled away more busily than ever. Kate took out her knife and also began to cut kelp, and I threw pebbles in the hope of hitting a spider which sat complacently on a stone not far away, and when he suddenly vanished there was nothing for me to do but to whittle kelp also. Do you suppose, said Kate, that Mrs. Sands really made you know about that shower? The Captain put on his most serious look, coughed slowly, and moved himself a few inches nearer us along the boat. I think he fully understood the importance and solemnity of the subject. It ain't for us to say what we do know or don't, for there is nothing certain. But I made up my mind long ago that there is something about these points that's mysterious. My wife and me will be sitting there at home and there won't be no word between us for an hour, and then of a sudden we'll speak up about the same thing. Now the way I view it, she either puts it into my head or I into hers. I've spoke up lots of times about something when I didn't know what I was going to say when I began, and she'll say she was just thinking of that. Like is not, you have noticed it sometimes. There was something my mind was dwellin' on yesterday, and she came right out with it. And I had a good deal rather she hadn't, said the Captain roofily. I didn't want to rake it all over again, I'm sure. And then he recollected himself and was silent, which his audience must confess to have regretted for a moment. I used to think a good deal about such things when I was younger, and I'm free to say I took more stock in dreams and such like than I do now. I recollect old Parson Loramere. This Parson Loramere's father, who was settled here first, spoke to me once about it, and said it was a tempting of Providence, and that we hadn't no right to pry into secrets. I know I had a dream book then that I picked up in a shop in Bristol once, when I was there on the ranger, and all the young folks were beset to get sight of it. I see what fools had made of folks, bothering their heads about such things, and I pretty much let them go. All this stuff about spirit wrappings is enough to make a man crazy. You don't get no good by it. I come across a paper once with a lot of letters in it from spirits, and I cast my eye o'er them, and I says to myself, well I always was given to understand that when we come to a future state, we was going to have more wisdom than we can get for, but them letters hadn't any more sense to them, nor so much as a man could write here without schooling, and I should think that if the letters be all straight, if the folks who wrote them had any kind of ambition, they'd want to be moving back here again, but as for one person's having something to do with another at any distance off, why, that's another thing. There ain't no nonsense about that. I know it's true just as well as I want to, said the captain, warming up. I'll tell ye how I was led to make up my mind about it. One time I waked a man up out of a sound sleep looking at him, and it set me to thinkin'. First, there wasn't any noise, and then again there wasn't any touch, so he could feel it, and I says to myself, why couldn't I had done it the width of two rooms, as well as one, and why couldn't I had done it with my back turned? It couldn't have been the lookin' so much as the thinkin', and then I cared it further, and I says, why ain't a mile as good as a yard, and it's a thinkin' that does it, says I, and we've got some faculty or other that we don't know much about. We've got some way of sending our thought like a bullet goes out of a gun and it hits. We don't know nothing except what we see, and some folks is scared and some more thinks it is all nonsense and laughs, but there's something we haven't got the hang of. It makes me think of them little black polywogs that turns into frogs and the freshwater puddles in the mosh. There's a time before their tails drop off and their legs have sprouted out when they don't get any use of their legs, and I daresay they're in their way considerable, but after they get to be frogs they find out what they're for without no kind of trouble. I guess we shall turn these faculties to account some time or another, seems to me, though, that we might depend on them now more than we do. The captain was now under full sale on what we had heard was his pet subject, and it was a great satisfaction to listen to what he had to say. It loses a great deal in being written, for the old sailor's voice and gestures and thorough earnestness all carried no little persuasion, and it was impossible not to be sure that he knew more than people usually do about these mysteries in which he delighted. Now how can you account for this? said he. I remember not more than 10 years ago my son's wife was stopping at our house and she had left her child at home while she came away for a rest. And after she had been here two or three days, one morning she was sitting in the kitchen along with the folks, and all of a sudden she jumped out of her chair and ran into the bedroom. In next minute she came out laughing and looking kind of scared. I could have taken an oath, says she, that I heard Katie crying out mother, says she, just as if she was hurt. I heard it so plain that before I stopped to think it seemed as if she were right in the next room. I'm afraid something had happened. But the folks laughed and she said she must have heard one of the lambs. No it wasn't, says she, it was Katie. And sure enough, just after dinner a young man who lived neighbor to her came riding into the yard post-haste to get her to come home, for the baby had pulled some hot water over onto herself and was nice scalded to death and crying for her mother every minute. Now who's going to explain that? It wasn't any common hearing that heard that child's cry in fifteen miles. And I can tell you another thing that happened among my own folks. There was an own cousin of mine married to a man by the name of John Hathorne. He was trading up to Parsonsfield and business run down and he wound up there and thought he'd make a new start. He moved down to Denby and while he was getting underway he left his family up to the old place and at the time I speak of was going to move them down in about a fortnight. One morning his wife was fidgeting around and finally she came downstairs with her bonnet and shawl on and said somebody must put the horse right into the wagon and take her down to Denby. Why what for mother, they says, don't stop to talk, says she, your father is sick and wants me. It's been a worrying me since before day and I can't stand it no longer. And the short of the story is that she kept hurrying them faster and faster and then she got hold of the reins herself and when they got within five miles of the place the horse fell dead and she was nigh about crazy and they took another horse at a farmhouse on the road. It was the spring of the year and the going was dreadful and when they got to the house John Hathorne had just died and he had been calling for his wife up to most the last breath he drew. He had taken sick sudden the day before but the folks knew it was bad traveling and that she was a feeble woman to come near thirty miles and they had no idea he was so bad off. I'm telling you the living truth, said Captain Sands with an emphatic shake of his head. There's more folks than me can tell about it and if you are going to Keele Hall me next minute and hang me to the yard arm afterward I couldn't say it different. I was up to Parsons Field to the funeral. It was just after I quit following the sea. I never saw a woman so broke down as she was. John was a nice man, steady and pleasant spoken and straightforward and kind to his folks. He belonged to the odd fellows and they all marched to the funeral. There was a good deal of respect showing him, I tell you. There's another story I'd like to have you hear if it's so that you ain't beat out hearing me talk. When I get going I slip along as easy as a schooner wing and wing for the wind. This happened to my father but I never heard him say much about it. Never could get him to talk it over to any length best I could do. But Granther, his father, told me about it nigh about 50 times first and last and always the same. Granther lived to be old and there was 10 or a dozen years after his wife died that he lived year and year about with Uncle Tobias' folks and our folks. Uncle Tobias lived over on the ridge. I got home from my first voyage as mate of the daylight just in time for his funeral. I was disappointed to find the old man was gone. I had fetched him some first-rate tobacco for he was a great hand to smoke and I was calculating on his being pleased. Old folks liked to be thought of and then he set more by me than by the other boys. I know I used to be sorry for him when I was a little fellow. My father's second wife, she was a well-meaning woman but an awful driver with her work and she was always making of him feel he wasn't no use. I don't know as she meant to either. He never said nothing and he was always just so pleasant and he was fond of his book and used to sit around reading and tried to keep himself out of the way just as much as he could. There was one winter when I was small that I had the scarlet fever and was very slim for a long time afterward and I used to keep along a grandfather and he would tell me stories. He'd been a sailor, it runs in our blood to follow the sea and he'd been wrecked two or three times and been taken by the Algerian pirates. You remind me to tell you some time about that and I wonder if you ever heard about old citizen Lee. That used to be about here when I was a boy. He was taken by the Algerians once, Sainz Granther, and they was dreadful fierce just then and they sent him home to get the ransom money for the crew. But it was a monstrous price, they asked and the owners wouldn't give it to him and they esposed likely the man was dead by that time anyway. Old citizen Lee, he went crazy and used to go about the streets with a bundle of papers in his hands year in and year out. I've seen him a good many times. Granther used to tell me how he escaped. I'll remember it for you someday if you put me in mind. I got to be mate when I was twenty and I was as strong a fellow as you could scare up and daring. Why, it makes my blood run cold when I think of the reckless things I used to do. I was off at sea after I was fifteen year old and there wasn't anybody so glad to see me as Granther when I came home. I expect he used to be lonesome after I went off and then his mind failed him quite a while before he died. Father was clever to him and he'd get him anything he spoke about. But he wasn't a man to sit round and talk and he never took notice himself when Granther was out of tobacco so sometimes it would be a day or two. I know better how he used to feel now that I'm getting to be along in years myself and likely to be cared to the folks before long. I never could bear to see old folks neglected nice old men and women who have worked hard in their day and been useful and willing. I've seen them many a time when they couldn't help knowing that the folks would a little rather they'd be in heaven and a good respectable headstone put up for them in the varying ground. Well now I'm sure I forgot what I was going to tell you. Oh yes, about grandmother dreaming about grandfather when he came home from sea. Well to go back to the first of it Granther never was rugged. He had ship fever when he was a young man and though he lived to be so old he never could work hard and never got forehanded. And Aunt Hannah Starbird over at East Parish took my sister to fetch up because she was named for her and Melinda and Tobias stayed at home with the old folks and my father went to live with an uncle over in Riverport whom he was named for. He was in the West India trade and was well off and he had no children so they expected he would do well by father. He was dreadful high tempered. I've heard say he had the worst temper that was ever raised in Deep Haven. One day he set father to put in some cherries into a barrel of rum and went off down to his wharf to see to the loading of a vessel and before he came back father found he'd got hold of the wrong barrel and had spoiled the barrel of the best Holland gin. He tried to get the cherries out but that wasn't any use and he was dreadful afraid of Uncle Matthew and he run away and never was heard of from that time out. They supposed he'd run away to sea and he had a lien in that way but nobody ever knew for certain and his mother she most mourned herself to death. Granthor told me that it got so at last that if they could only know for sure that he was dead it was all they would ask but it went on four years and Granthor got used to it some though grandmother never would give up and one morning early before day she waked him up and says she we're going to hear from Matthew get up quick and go down to the store nonsense says he I've seen him says grandmother and he's coming home he looks older but just the same other ways and he's got long hair like horses mane all down over his shoulders well let the dead rest says Granthor you've thought about the boy till your head is turned I tell you I saw Matthew myself says she and I want you to go right down to see if there isn't a letter and she kept at him till he saddled the horse and he got down to the store before it was opened in the morning and he had to wait round and when the man came over to unlock it he was most shamed tell what his errant was for he had been so many times and everybody supposed the boy was dead when he asked for a letter the man said there was none there and asked if he was expecting any particular one he didn't get many letters I suppose all his folks lived about here and people didn't write any to speak of in those days Granthor said he thought he wouldn't make such a fool of himself again but he didn't say anything and he waited round a while talking to one and another who came up and by and by says the storekeeper who was reading a newspaper they had just come here's some news for you sands I do believe there are three vessels come into Boston Harbor that have been out wailing and sealing in the South Seas for three or four years and your son Matthew's name is down on the list of the crew I tell yeas says Grandfather I took that paper and I got on my horse and put for home and your grandmother she hailed me and she said you've heard haven't you before I told her a word grandfather he got his breakfast and started right off for Boston and got there early the second day and went right down on the wharves somebody lent him a boat and he went out to where there were two sealers laying off riding at anchor and he asked a sailor if Matthew was aboard high eyes says a sailor he's down below and he sung out for him and when he came up out of the hold his hair was long down over his shoulders like a horse's mane just as his mother saw it in the dream grandfather he didn't know what to say it scared him and he asked how it happened and father told how they'd been off sealing in the South Seas and he and another man had lived alone on an island for months and the whole crew had grown wild in their ways of living being off so long and for one thing had gone without caps and let their hair grow the rest of the men had been ashore and got fixed up smart but he had been busy and had put it off till that morning he was just going ashore then father was all struck up when he heard about the dream and said his mind had been dwellin on his mother and going home and he came down to let her see him just as he was and she said it was the same way he looked in the dream he never would have his hair cut father wouldn't and wore it in a queue I remember seeing him with it when I was a boy but his second wife didn't like the looks of it and she came up behind him one day and cut it off with the scissors he was terrible worked up about it I never see father so mad as he was that day now this is just as true as the bible said captain sands I haven't put a word to it and grandther always told a story just as it was that woman saw her son but if you ask me what kind of eyesight it was I can't tell you nor nobody else later that evening Kate and I drifted into a long talk about the captain's stories and these mysterious powers of which we know so little it was somewhat chilly in the house and we had kindled a fire in the fireplace which at first made a blaze which lighted the old room royally and then quieted down into red coals and lacy puffs of smoke we had carried the lights away and sat with our feet on the fender and kate's great dog was lying between us on the rug I remember that evening so well we could see the stars through the window planer and planer as the fire went down and we could hear the noise of the sea do you remember in the old myth of demeter and persephone Kate asked me where demeter takes care of the child and gives it ambrosia and hides it in fire because she loves it and wishes to make it immortal and to give it eternal youth and then the mother finds it out and cries in terror to hinder her and the goddess angrily throws the child down and rushes away and he had to share the common destiny of mankind though he always had some wonderful inscrutable grace and wisdom because a goddess had loved him and held him in her arms I always thought that part of the story beautiful where demeter throws off her disguise and is no longer an old woman and the great house is filled with brightness like lightning and she rushes out through the halls with her yellow hair waving over her shoulders and the people would give anything to bring her back again and to undo their mistake I knew it almost all by heart once said Kate and I am always finding a new meaning to it I was just thinking that it may be that we all have given to us more or less of another nature as the child had whom demeter wished to make like the gods I believe old Captain Sands is right and we have these instincts which defy all our wisdom and for which we never can frame any laws we may laugh at them but we are always meeting them and we cannot help knowing that it has been the same through all history they are powers which are imperfectly developed in this life but one cannot help the thought that the mystery of this world may be the commonplace of the next I wonder, said I, why it is that one hears so much more of such things from simple country people they believe in dreams and they have a kind of fetishism and believe so heartily in supernatural causes I suppose nothing could shake Mrs. Patton's faith in warnings there is no end of absurdity in it and yet there is one side of such lives for which one cannot help having reverence they live so much nearer to nature than people who are in cities and there is soberness about country people often times that one cannot help noticing I wonder if they are unconsciously odd by the strength and purpose in the world about them and the mysterious creative power which is at work with them on their familiar farms in their simple life they take their instincts for truths and perhaps they are not always so far wrong as we imagine because they are so instinctive and unreasoning they may have a more complete sympathy with nature and may hear her voices when wiser ears are deaf they have much in common after all with the plants which grow up out of the ground and the wild creatures which depend upon their instincts wholly I think, said Kate, that the more one lives out of doors the more personality there seems to be in what we call inanimate things the strength of the hills and the voice of the waves are no longer only grand poetical sentences but an expression of something real and more and more one finds God himself in the world and believes that we may read the thoughts that he writes for us in the book of nature and after this we were silent for a while and in the meantime it grew very late and we watched the fire until there were only a few sparks left in the ashes the stars faded away and the moon came up out of the sea and we barred the great hall door and went upstairs to bed the lighthouse lamp burned steadily and it was the only light that had not been blown out in all deep haven end of chapter nine