Joseph C.Lincoln
 
 
 1 

 
 MR. PRATT
 
 BY JOSEPH C. LINCOLN 
 
 " No other writer can so bring out the character 
 of well seasoned old salts, at once shrewd and 
 unsophisticated and dryly humorous." Boston 
 Advertiser, 
 
 The Old Home House 
 
 " Unusual pleasure is in store for the reader who 
 happens on The Old Home House. It is 
 delightful." Providence Journal. 
 
 " A better collection of short stories would be 
 hard to find." Boston Transcript. 
 
 I2m<x Cloth. Illustrated. #1.25 
 
 CAP N ERI 
 
 H All the freshness of realism wedded to hu 
 mor." Ntw York Mail. 
 
 " Everybody s friend." New York Sun. 
 izmo. Cloth. Illustrated. $1.50 
 
 Partners of the Tide 
 
 " Delightful Cape Codders painted with Dutch 
 accuracy and plenty of humor." New York Sun. 
 
 w A rattling good yarn of the sea and shore full 
 of fun and stirring incident." Chicago Inter* 
 Ocean. 
 
 I2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. #1.50
 
 MR. PRATT 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 By JOSEPH C. LINCOLN 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 CAP N ERI," " PARTNERS OF THE TIDE/ ETC, 
 
 WITH FRONTISPIECE 
 By HORACE TAYLOR 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS v NEW YORK
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY 
 A. 8. BARNES & COMPANY 
 
 Published May, 1906 
 
 Second Printing, July, 1906 
 
 Third Printing, October, 1906 
 
 Fourth Printing, November, 1906 
 
 Fifth Printing, February, 1907 
 
 Sixth Printing, August, 1907 
 
 Seventh Printing, November, 1907 
 
 Eighth Printing, February, 1908 
 
 Ninth Printing, September, 1908 
 
 Tenth Printing, January, 1909 
 Eleventh Printing, February, 1911
 
 MY FRIEND 
 GILMAKT HALL 
 
 2136746
 
 NOTE 
 
 The germ from which the yarn of " Mr. 
 Pratt " developed was contained in a short 
 story by the author, which appeared in "Every 
 body s Magazine. In that story, " The Sim 
 plicity of It," the " Heavenly Twins " were 
 middle aged men, and their characters as well as 
 their names were not those of Hartley and Van 
 Brunt. But they did try to live the "Natural 
 Life," and Mr. Solomon Pratt then, as in the 
 present instance, assisted in the attempt and told 
 the tale. 
 
 J. C. L. 
 Hackensack, N. J. March 28, 1006.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I THE MASTERS ...... i 
 
 II THE MAN 18 
 
 III Too MANY COOKS . . . . . 32 
 
 IV THE PIG RACE . . . . . .50 
 
 V THE CRUISE OF THE "DORA BASSETT" . 68 
 
 VI OZONE ISLAND ...... 85 
 
 VII SWEET SIMPLICITY ..... 104 
 
 VIII MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS .... 122 
 
 IX THE "FRESH AIRERS" .... 139 
 
 X THE VOYAGE OF THE ARK . . . -157 
 
 XI EUREKA ....... 176 
 
 XII Miss SPARROW S DIAGNOSIS . . . 194 
 
 XIII THE LAWN FETE ..... 209 
 
 XIV "THE BEST LAID PLANS" .... 226 
 XV THE WHITE PLAGUE 244 
 
 XVI THE NATURAL LIFE ..... 266 
 
 XVII ACROSS THE BAY 284 
 
 XVIII POOR REDNY 303 
 
 XIX SIMPLE VERSUS DUPLEX .... 323
 
 MR. PRATT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 WHE MASTERS 
 
 I HEARD about the pair first from Emeline 
 Eldredge, " Emmie T." we always call her. 
 She was first mate to the cook at the Old 
 Home House that summer. She come down to 
 the landing one morning afore breakfast and hove 
 alongside of where I was setting in the stern of 
 my sloop, the Dora Bassett, untangling fish lines. 
 She had a tin pail in her fist, indicating that her 
 sailing orders was to go after milk. But she saw 
 me and run down in ballast to swap yarns. 
 
 " My sakes ! Mr. Pratt," says she ; "have you 
 heard about Nate Scudder? " 
 
 " Yes," I says. " Ever since I come to Well- 
 mouth." 
 
 " I mean about what him and his wife has just 
 done," says she. " It s the queerest thing! You ll 
 never guess it in the world."
 
 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Ain t been giving his money to the poor, has 
 he?" says I, for, generally speaking, it takes a 
 strong man and a cold chisel to separate Nate 
 Scudder from a cent. 
 
 " Oh 1 ain t you the funniest thing! " she 
 squeals. " No indeed 1 He s let his house to 
 some city folks, and " 
 
 "Ain t that the cook calling you?" I asks. 
 I m a homeopath when it comes to Emmie T. ; I 
 like to take her in small doses she agrees with 
 me better that way. 
 
 It was the cook, and Emeline kited off after the 
 milk, only stopping long enough to yell back: 
 " Folks say they re dreadful rich and stylish. I ll 
 tell you next time I see you." 
 
 Well, I cal lated she wouldn t not if I saw her 
 first and didn t pay no more attention to the 
 yarn, except to think that June was pretty early 
 for city folks to be renting houses. There was 
 only three or four boarders at the Old Home so 
 far, and I was to take a couple of em over to 
 Trumet in the sloop that very day. 
 
 But, while we was on the way over, one of the 
 couple sort of a high-toned edition of Emmie T. 
 she was she turns to her messmate, another pullet 
 from the same coop, and says she, " Oh say I " she
 
 THE MASTERS 3 
 
 says. "Have you heard about the two young 
 fellers from New York who ve rented that Scud- 
 der house on the on the what do they call it? 
 Oh, yes! the Neck road. I heard Nettie Brown 
 say they were too dear for anything. Let s drive 
 past there to-morrow; shall we? " 
 
 So there it was again, and I begun to wonder 
 what sort of critters Nate had hooked. I judged 
 that they must be a kind of goldfish or he wouldn t 
 have baited for em. Nate ain t the man to be 
 satisfied with a mess of sculpins. 
 
 I landed the boarders at Trumet and they went 
 up to the village to do some shopping. Then I 
 headed across the harbor to shake hands with the 
 Trumet light keeper, who is a friend of mine. 
 His wife told me he d gone over to town, too, so 
 I come about and run back to the landing again. 
 And I m blessed if there wa n t Nate Scudder him 
 self, setting on a mackerel keg at the end of the 
 wharf and looking worried. 
 
 I hadn t hoisted the jib on the way down, and 
 now I let the mainsail drop and went forward. 
 
 " Hello, Nate ! " I hailed, as the Dora Bassett 
 slid up to the wharf. 
 
 He kind of jumped, and looked at me as if he d 
 just woke up.
 
 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 * Hello, Sol ! " he says, sort of mournful. 
 Then he turned his eyes toward the bay again 
 and appeared to be starting in on another nap. 
 
 " Hear you got some boarders over to your 
 home," I says, heaving him a line as a hint for 
 him to come out of his trance and make me fast. 
 
 Yes," says he, paying no attention to the line. 
 
 " Come early in the season, ain t they? " says I, 
 grabbing hold of one of the wharf spiles and 
 bringing my boat alongside easy as I could. 
 
 " Ya-as," says he, again. Then he fetched a 
 long breath and opened his mouth as if he was 
 going to go on. But he didn t; all that come out 
 of the mouth afore it shut up was another " Yes." 
 
 I made the Dora Bassett fast myself and 
 climbed on to the wharf. 
 
 "Are they cal lating to stay long?" I asks. 
 He d got me interested. Seemed to have the 
 " yes " disease bad. 
 
 "Hey?" says he. " Oh er yes." 
 
 I was a little mite provoked. Not that I was 
 hankering to have Nate Scudder heave his arms 
 around my neck and tell me he loved me, but I 
 didn t know any reason why my pumps should 
 suck dry every time I tried em. 
 
 " Humph ! " I grunted, starting to walk off.
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 5 
 
 "Well, be careful of yourself; look out it don t 
 develop into nothing worse." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he sings out, seeming 
 to be waked up for good, at last. 
 
 " O&," says I; " I judged by the way you kept 
 your mouth shut that you had sore throat and 
 was afraid of getting cold. Good day." 
 
 Would you believe it, he got up off that mack 
 erel keg and chased after me. 
 
 "Hold on, Sol!" he says, kind of pleading. 
 " Don t be in such a hurry. I wanted to talk to 
 you." 
 
 I had to laugh; couldn t help it. " Yes," says 
 I, " I kind of suspicioned that you did, from your 
 chatty remarks. If you d said yes nine or ten 
 times more I d have been sure of it." 
 
 " Well, I did," he says. " I wanted to ask 
 you I thought I d see what you thought you 
 see " 
 
 Here he kind of faded away again, and stood 
 still and wiped his forehead. 
 
 " Look here, Nate Scudder," I says, " for a 
 man that wants to talk you make the poorest fist 
 at it of anybody ever I see. Why don t you try 
 singing or making signs? I wouldn t wonder if 
 you got ahead faster."
 
 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 He grinned, a feeble sort of lop-sided grin, 
 and tried another tack. 
 
 " You was speaking of them boarders of mine," 
 he says. 
 
 " Yes; / was," I says. 
 
 " They come day afore yesterday early," says 
 he. 
 
 " Um-hum. So I heard," I says. 
 
 He fidgeted a minute or so more. Then he 
 took me by the arm and led me back to the keg. 
 
 " Sol," he says, " set down. I want to ask 
 you something. By gum! I got to ask some 
 body. I m I m worried." 
 
 " Yes? " I said, giving him a little of his own 
 medicine. 
 
 Yes. Them boarders they worry me. Me 
 and Huldy set up till nigh eleven o clock last night 
 talking about em. She thinks maybe they stole 
 the money, and I don t know but they re crazy, 
 run away from an asylum or something. You ve 
 seen more city folks than I have, being around the 
 hotel so. See what you think. 
 
 Twas this way," he went on; "I got a letter 
 from the feller in New York that I sell cranberries 
 to. He said a couple of friends of his wanted to 
 come to a place in the country where twas quiet.
 
 THE MASTERS 7 
 
 Did I know of such a place round here? Well, 
 course I wrote back that twas nice and quiet right 
 at our house. There wa n t no lie in that, was 
 there, Sol?" 
 
 " No," I says. " I should say twouldn t be 
 shaving the truth too close if you d said there was 
 more quietness than anything else down on the 
 Neck road," 
 
 " Well," he goes on, not noticing the sarcasm, 
 " I wrote and never got a word back. Me and 
 Huldy had given up hearing. And then, yester 
 day morning, they come both of em. Nice 
 lookin young fellers as ever you see, they are; 
 dressed just like the chaps in the clothes advertise 
 ments in the back of the magazines. The biggest 
 one they re both half as tall as that mast, seems 
 so he took up his hat and says, kind of lazy and! 
 grand, like a steamboat capt n : 
 
 " Mr. Scudder? he says. 
 
 " That s my name, says I. I was kind of sus 
 picious; there s been so many sewing-machine 
 agents and such round town this spring. And yet 
 I d ought to have known he wa n t no sewing- 
 machine agent. 
 
 " Ah ! he says. You ve been expecting us 
 then. Has the luggage come ?
 
 8 MR. PRATT. 
 
 " What in time did I know about his * luggage, 
 as he called it? 
 
 " No, says I. * Tain t. 
 
 " * Oh, well, never mind, he says, just as 
 if a ton or two of baggage didn t count any 
 way. Can you give us two sleeping rooms, 
 two baths, a setting room, and a room for my 
 man ? 
 
 " Two baths? says I. Can t you take a 
 bath by yourself? You seem to be having lots of 
 funny jokes with me. Would you mind saying 
 what your name is and what you want ? 
 
 " He looked me over sort of odd. * Beg par 
 don, he said. I thought you were expecting us. 
 Here s my card. 
 
 " I looked at it, and there was the name Ed 
 ward Van Brunt, printed on it. Then I begun 
 to get my bearings, as you might say. 
 
 " Oh! I says. I see. 
 
 " So glad, I m sure, he says. Now can you 
 give us the sleeping rooms, the baths, and the 
 room for my man ? 
 
 " Humph ! says I, lookin back at the house 
 behind me; if me and Huldy bunked in the hen 
 house and the chore boy in the cellar, maybe we 
 fould accommodate you, that is, all but the baths.
 
 THE MASTERS 9 
 
 You d have to take turns with the washtub for 
 them, I says. 
 
 " He laughed. He was so everlasting cool 
 about things that it sort of riled me up. 
 
 " Perhaps you d like to hire the whole she 
 bang? says I, sarcastic, pointing to the house. 
 
 " He looked at it. It looked sort of cheerful, 
 with the syringa over the door and the morning- 
 glories hiding where the whitewash was off. 
 4 Good idea ! he says. I would. 
 
 Well, that was too many for me ! I went 
 into the house and fetched out Huldy Ann she s 
 my wife. There ain t many women in this town 
 can beat her when it comes to managing and busi 
 ness, if I do say it. 
 
 " How long would you want the house for? 
 says Huldy, when I told her what was going on. 
 
 " A month, says Van Brunt, turning to the 
 other city feller. Hey, Martin? T other chap 
 nodded. 
 
 " All right, says Van Brunt. How much? 
 
 " Thinks I, I ll scare you, my fine feller. 
 And so I says, A month ? Well, I don t know. 
 Maybe, to accommodate, I might let you have it 
 for two hundred. I sort of edged off then, think 
 ing sure he d be mad; but he wa n t not him.
 
 io MR. PRATT 
 
 " Two hundred it is, he says, and fished out a 
 little blank book and one of them pocket pens. 
 
 " Name s Scudder? he asks. 
 
 " Yes, says I. Nathan Scudder. One T in 
 Nathan. 
 
 " And I don t know as you ll believe it, Sol," 
 says Nate, finishing up, " but that feller made out 
 a check for two hundred and passed it over to me 
 like twas a postage stamp. What do you think of 
 that?" 
 
 I didn t know what to think of it. On general 
 principles I d say that a man who wanted to board 
 with Nate and Huldy Ann Scudder was crazy any 
 how ; but of course these fellers didn t know. 
 
 " It beats me, Nate," I says. " What do you 
 think?" 
 
 " Blessed if I know! " says Scudder, with an 
 other of them long breaths. " All I m sure of is 
 that they re up home, with the parlor blinds open 
 and the carpet fading, and me and Huldy s living 
 in the barn. She s doing the cookin for em till 
 this man of theirs comes. Land knows what 
 kind of a man he is, too. And that check was on a 
 New York bank, and I ve just been up to Trumet 
 here with it and the cashier says twill be a week 
 afore I know whether it s good or not. And I
 
 THE MASTERS u 
 
 can t make out whether them two are thieves, or 
 lunatics, or what. And Huldy can t neither. I 
 never was so worried in my life." 
 
 I kind of chuckled down inside. The idea of 
 anybody s skinning Nate Scudder was the nighest 
 to the biter s being bit of anything I ever come 
 across. And just then I see my two passengers 
 coming. 
 
 " Well, cheer up, Nate," I says. " Maybe you ll 
 get the reward, whether It s lunatics or thieves. 
 Only you want to look out and not be took up for 
 an accomplice." 
 
 He fairly shriveled up when I said that, and I 
 laughed to myself all the way out of Trumet har 
 bor. One thing I was sure of: them two New 
 Yorkers must be queer birds and I wanted to 
 see em. 
 
 And the very next afternoon I did see em. They 
 come down the Old Home pier together, walking 
 as if they didn t care a whole continental whether 
 they ever got anywheres or not. One of em, the 
 smallest one he wa n t more n six foot one and a 
 ha f looked sort of sick, to me. He had a white 
 face, and that kind of tired, don t-care look in his 
 eye; and the bigger one sort of tended to things 
 for him.
 
 12 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Good morning," says the big one the Van 
 Brunt one, I judged cheerful enough. T other 
 chap said, " Good morning," too. 
 
 " Morning," says I. 
 
 " Can you take us out sailing? " 
 
 " Why er I guess so," I says. "I don t know 
 why I can t, if you feel like going. Course " 
 
 I hadn t finished what I was going to say afore 
 they was in the boat. Now, generally speaking, 
 there s some bargaining to be done afore you take 
 folks out for a three-dollar sail. You naturally 
 expect it, you know not so much from boarders 
 as from towners, but still, some. But not for these 
 two no, sir! It was this powerful suddenness 
 of theirs that hit me betwixt wind and water, same 
 as it had Nate. Made me feel sort of like I d 
 missed the train. Stirred up my suspicions again, 
 too. 
 
 Twas a nice day; one of them clear blue and 
 green days that you get early in June. The water 
 wa n t rugged, but just choppy enough to be pretty, 
 and the breeze was about no theast, givin us a fair 
 run down the bay. 
 
 "This is grand! " says the big fellow, as the 
 Dora Bassett begun to feel her oats and lay down 
 to her work.
 
 THE MASTERS 13, 
 
 " Caesar! Van," said the other one; " why do 
 you bring me down to earth like that? Grand! 
 Bleecker next! " He hollered out this last part in 
 a kind of screechy sing-song. Then they both 
 laughed. 
 
 I looked at em. There wa n t nothing to laugh 
 at, so far as I could see, and the " Bleecker " busi 
 ness didn t appear to have no sense in it, either. 
 They made two or three other speeches that 
 sounded just as foolish. Thinks I, " I wonder if 
 Scudder s right? " They didn t look like lunatics, 
 but you can t always tell. Old man Ebenezer 
 Doane went to church of a Sunday morning just 
 as sensible acting as a Second Adventer could be; 
 but when he got home he fired the bean-pot at his 
 wife, chased his children out door with a clam hoe, 
 and they found him settin a-straddle of the hen 
 house singing " Beulah Land " to the chickens. 
 These fellers might be harmless loons that had 
 been farmed out, as you might say, by the asylum 
 folks. There was that " man " that Nate said was 
 coming. He might be their keeper. 
 
 " I understand you ve got a friend coming," 1 
 says I, by way of ground ba;t. 
 
 " Friend? " says the big one. " Friend? I don t 
 understand."
 
 i 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Scudder said you had another man coming to 
 his house," says I. 
 
 He smiled. " Oh, I see." Then he smiled 
 again, a queer lazy kind of a smile, like as if he was 
 amused at himself or his thoughts. 
 
 " I don t know that I should call him a friend, 
 Mr. er " 
 
 " Pratt," says I. " Solomon Pratt." 
 
 * Thanks. No, I wouldn t go so far as to call 
 him a friend; and yet he s not an enemy not 
 openly." He smiled again, and the other chap 
 whose name I found out was Hartley Martin 
 Hartley smiled too. 
 
 " He s the man Van here belongs to," ex 
 plained the Hartley one. They both smiled 
 . again. 
 
 I kind of jumped, I guess, when he said that. 
 It began to look as if the asylum idea was the right 
 one, and this feller that was coming was the keeper. 
 
 " Hum," says I, and nodded my head just as if 
 the whole business was as plain as A B C. " Do 
 you belong to anybody? " I says to Hartley. 
 
 " I did," says he, " but he s doing time." 
 
 " Doing time? " says I. 
 
 " Yes," says he, explaining, kind of impatient 
 like. " Up the river, you know."
 
 THE MASTERS 15 
 
 I chewed over this for a minute, and all I could 
 think of was that the feller must be in a clock fac 
 tory or a watchmaker s or something. 
 
 "Watches?" I asks. 
 
 Hartley seemed to be too tired of life to want 
 to answer, but his chum did it for him. 
 
 " No," says he. " I believe it was pearl studs 
 on the showdown." 
 
 Well, this was crazy talk enough for anybody. 
 I didn t want to stir em up none I ve always 
 heard that you had to be gentle with lunatics so I 
 went on, encouraging em like. 
 
 "Studs, hey?" says I. 
 
 " Yes," says he. " He was a British beast, and 
 Martin was all balled up in the Street at the time 
 away from his apartments a good deal and the 
 B. B. annexed everything in sight." 
 
 "Go long!" says I, for the sake of saying 
 something. 
 
 " Beg pardon," says he. 
 
 " Nothing," says I; and we stopped talking. 
 
 They seemed to enjoy the sail first rate, and 
 acted as rational as could be, generally speaking. 
 They didn t know a topping lift from a center- 
 board, so far as boat went, but that wa n t strange ; 
 I d seen plenty of boarders like that. But never
 
 i6 MR. PRATT 
 
 afore had I seen two that acted or talked like 
 them. 
 
 We got back to the wharf along about dusk, and 
 I walked with em a piece on their way to Nate s. 
 I was keeping a sort of old bach hall just outside 
 the village and so it wa n t much out of my way. 
 They had me guessing and I wanted more time to 
 work on the riddle. 
 
 We cut across Sears s meadow, and the frogs 
 was beginning to squeal and the crickets to chirp. 
 To me them early summer noises are as cheerful 
 and restful as a teakettle singing or a cat purring. 
 But, all at once, Hartley, the sick one, stopped 
 and held up his hand. 
 
 u Heavens, Van ! " he says. " It sounds like 
 the ticker," and he said it so prayerful and sad. 
 
 Van Brunt shook his head. " Don t it? " says 
 he. " I can see the tape running off that tree. 
 4 Green Apples Preferred, 106 bid and 8 asked/ 
 Is there no escape ? " he says. 
 
 I left em on the hill by the Baptist burying 
 ground. I watched em walking down the road, 
 big and straight and handsome, and I pitied em 
 from the bottom of my heart. 
 
 " Sol Pratt," says I to myself, " here s a lesson 
 for you. You re old and homely and your bank
 
 THE MASTERS 17 
 
 account is nothing, minus a good deal, divided by 
 naught; but don t you never complain again. 
 S pose you was good-looking and rich, but out of 
 your head, like them two poor young chaps. Dear I 
 dear!" 
 
 And I thought about em and pitied em all that 
 evening, while I was frying my herrings for sup 
 per. I hope I ll get credit somewheres for all 
 pity.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE MAN 
 
 I SEE em pretty often during the next week. 
 They used to loaf down to the landing of a 
 morning, smoking cigars, and with their 
 hands in their pockets. Crazy or not, there was 
 a something about em that kind of got me; I 
 own up I begun to like em, in spite of their top- 
 hamper being out of gear. As a general run I 
 don t hanker for the average city boarder. He 
 runs too much to yachting clothes and patron 
 izing. Neither the clothes nor the airs set well; 
 kind of look like they was second-hand and made 
 over for him by the folks at home. When one of 
 that kind is out sailing with me, and begins to lord 
 it and show off afore the girls, the Dora Bassett 
 is pretty apt to ship some spray over the bow. A 
 couple of gallons of salt water, sliced off a wave 
 top and poured down the neck of one of them 
 fellers is the best reducer I know of; shrinks his 
 importance like twas a flannel shirt. 
 
 But Nate Scudder s private patients wa n t that 
 
 18
 
 THE MAN , 9 
 
 kind. Not that they wa n t dressed. Land sakes ! 
 I don t s pose they wore the same vests two days 
 running. But they looked like they was used to 
 their clothes, not as if they d just been introduced 
 and didn t feel to home in em. And they didn t 
 patronize none to speak of; called me " Skipper " 
 and "Sol" just as sociable as could be. And as for 
 the girls, they never looked twice at any of the 
 hotel ones. Them two skittish females that I took 
 over to Trumet used to get in their way and beg 
 pardon and giggle, hoisting flirtation signals, s.j 
 to speak, but Van Brunt and Hartley wouldn t 
 even come up into the wind; just keep on their 
 course like they was carrying the mail. Twas 
 these two females that first named em " The 
 Heavenly Twins "; twas shortened later to " The 
 Heavenlies." 
 
 Every time I took the Heavenlies on a cruise the 
 more certain I was that they were loons harmless 
 and good-natured, of course, but loons just the 
 same. Most generally they carried a book along 
 with em and read it out loud to each other. 
 They d read a spell and then stop and break out 
 with, " By Jove! that s so. He s rirrht, isn t he? " 
 You d think that book was a human almost, the 
 way they went on about it. I ve heard a minister
 
 ao MR. PRATT 
 
 do the same way over the Scriptures ; but this wa n t 
 the Bible, the name of it was " The Natural Life." 
 I borrowed it once to look at, but twas all foolish 
 ness to me; telling about money being a cuss, and 
 such rot. I ve been cussed considerable sence I 
 first went to sea, but not by money no, sir! 
 
 But Van Brunt would read three or four fathom 
 of rubbish out of " The Natural," and then heave 
 to and say: 
 
 " Odd we didn t think of that afore, Martin. 
 It doesn t count for much, does it? Well, we re 
 through with it now, thank God! Look at that 
 sunset. Have a smoke, skipper? " 
 
 And then he d pass over a cigar that had cost as 
 much as ten cusses a box, if I m any judge of 
 tobacco. 
 
 One night, just as we were coming into port, 
 Van says to me : 
 
 " Sol," he says. " We may want you and the 
 boat to-morrow. My man ll let you know in the 
 morning. Meanwhile just dodge the nautical 
 bunch at the hotel, will you? " 
 
 I was a good deal shook up. I d almost forgot 
 that keeper. 
 
 "Man? "says I. "Oh, yes, yes! I see. Is 
 he here now? "
 
 THE MAN. 3 i 
 
 " No; coming to-night, I believe. By-by. Just 
 consider yourself engaged till you hear from 
 us." 
 
 They walked off and left me thinking. Thinks 
 I, " It s a fair bet that that keeper don t let you 
 two go boating by yourselves again." 
 
 So the next day about half-past nine, when I d 
 just about decided to let some of the boarders have 
 the Dora Bassett, I looked up from my fish lines 
 and here was a feller coming down the wharf. 
 
 He was a kind of an exhibit for Wellmouth, as 
 you might say. Leastways he was bran-new for 
 me. Six foot two over all, I should judge, and 
 about two foot in the beam. Cast a shadow like 
 a rake handle. Dressed up fine and precise, and 
 prim as a Sunday-school superintendent. He 
 looked sort of gospelly, too, with his smooth upper 
 lip and turned-down mouth, and little two-for-a- 
 cent side whiskers at half mast on his cheeks. But 
 his eyes was fishy. Thinks I, " No sir-ee ! I don t 
 want to subscribe to no Temperance Advocate, 
 nor buy The Life of Moses and the Ten Com 
 mandments, nor I don t want to have my tintype 
 took neither." 
 
 He stood still by the stringpiece of the wharf 
 and looked me over, kind of grand but well-mean-
 
 22 MR. PRATT 
 
 ing, same as the Prince of Wales might look at a 
 hoptoad. 
 
 " Ello," says he. 
 
 " Hello, yourself," says I, keeping on with my 
 work. 
 
 " Mr. Edward as ordered the boat for alf past 
 eleven," he says. 
 
 " I want to know," says I. " How ll he have it 
 fried?" 
 
 " Beg pardon? " says he. 
 
 You re welcome," says I. I can stand being 
 patronized, sometimes, if I m paid for it, but I 
 didn t see this critter developing no cash symptoms. 
 
 " My good man," he says; "you don t under 
 stand me. I said that Mr. Edward ad ordered the 
 boat for alf past eleven." 
 
 " I know you did. And I asked if he d have it 
 fried." 
 
 He seemed to be turning this over in his mind. 
 And with every turn he got more muddled. I d 
 concluded by this time that he wa n t a book agent. 
 What he was though I couldn t make out nor I 
 didn t much care. He riled me, this feller did. 
 
 " Look ere," says he, after a minute. " Is your 
 name Pratt?" 
 
 " Yup," I says. " On Thursdays it is."
 
 THE MAN 23 
 
 <f Thursdays?" says he. "Thursdays? What 
 what is it on Fridays? " 
 
 " Mister Pratt," says I, pretty average brisk. 
 
 He seemed to be more muddled than ever. He 
 looked back towards the hotel and then at me 
 .again. I had a notion he was going to sing out 
 for help. 
 
 " My man," he says, again. " My man- " 
 
 " Humph ! " I interrupted. " Well, if I m your 
 man whose man are you? " 
 
 And, by time! he seemed to understand that! 
 " I m Mr. Edward Van Brunt s man," says he, 
 " and Mr. Edward as ordered the boat for 
 alf " 
 
 And then / begun to understand or thought I 
 did. Twas the keeper. Well, in some ways he 
 looked his job. 
 
 " O oh! " says I. " All right. Yes, yes. I 
 heard you was coming, Mr. Mr. " 
 
 " Opper," says he; " James Opper." 
 
 " Proud to know you, Mr. Opper," says I, 
 which was a lie, I m afraid. 
 
 " Not Hopper," he says. " Opper." 
 
 " Sure! Opper s what I said," says I. 
 
 He got red in the face. " Opper," he says. 
 " Haitch o-p-p-e-r."
 
 *4 MR. PRATT, 
 
 "Oh, Hopper!" I says. 
 
 " Of course. Opper," he says. 
 
 I felt as if I d been sailing a race and had made 
 a lap and got back to the starting buoy. 
 
 " All right," says I. " What s an H or two be 
 tween friends? How s your patients, Mr. Opper 
 Hopper?" 
 
 " Look ere, my fine feller," he says. " You re 
 too fresh. For a a-penny I d come down and put 
 a ead on you." 
 
 And right then I give up the idea that he was a 
 retired parson. Parsons don 1 ; talk like that. 
 
 " You would? " says I. " Well, you go on put 
 ting eads on the poor lunatics you have to take 
 care of and don t try any of ycur asylum games 
 with me. Twould be safer for you and wouldn t 
 interfere with my work. What do you want? " 
 
 " I m Mr. Edward Van Brunt s vally " he 
 says " is man-servant; and e as ordered you 
 
 <-rv " 
 
 "His man-servant!" I sung out, setting up 
 straight. 
 
 " Of course. Didn t I says so? His vally ^ 
 and " 
 
 Well, I d made a mistake, I judged. If he was 
 a. servant he couldn t be the keeper. I ca lated
 
 THE MAN 25 
 
 twas best to be a little more sociable. Besides, I 
 was curious. 
 
 "Humph! " says I. " I guess I d ought to beg 
 your pardon, Mr. Opper " 
 
 " Opper! " he fairly hollered it. 
 
 " All right. Never mind. Come on aboard 
 and let s talk it over." 
 
 So aboard he come, making a land-lubber s job 
 of it, and come to anchor on the bench in the 
 cockpit, setting up as stiff and straight as if he d 
 swallowed a marlin-spike. Then we commenced 
 to talk, me dropping a question every once in 
 awhile, and him dropping h s like he was feeding 
 em to the hens. 
 
 " What kind of a servant did you say you was ? " 
 says I, breaking the ice. 
 
 " A vally, Mr. Edward s vally." 
 
 "Vally, hey?" says I. "Vally! Hum! I 
 want to know ! " 
 
 I guess he see I was out of soundings, so he con 
 descends to do some spelling for me. 
 
 " V-a-1-e-t," says he. " Vally." 
 
 " Oh ! " says I. "A vallet. Yes, yes ; I see." 
 
 I knew what a vallet was I d read about em 
 in the papers but this feller s calling it a " vally " 
 put me off the course. He was nothing but a for-
 
 26 MR. PRATT 
 
 eigner, though, so I made allowances. I give him 
 a cigar that I bought at the grocery store on the 
 way down, and we lit up. Then he commenced to 
 tell about himself and how he used to work for a 
 lord once over in England. According to his tell 
 England was next door to Paradise and the 
 United States a little worse than the other place. 
 " Gawd forsaken " was the best word he had for 
 Yankeeland. 
 
 " I suppose you ll quit when the keeper comes," 
 says I. 
 
 " Keeper? " says he. " Wat keeper? " 
 
 Why, the feller from the asylum. How long 
 has your boss and his messmate been crazy? " I 
 asks. 
 
 "Crazy?" he says. "Crazy? Wat do you 
 mean? " 
 
 " Look here," says I. " You tell me straight. 
 Ain t Van Brunt and Hartley out of their heads? " 
 
 " Out of their eads? Eavens, no! " He was 
 so upset that he couldn t hardly speak for a minute. 
 Then he commenced to tell about the Heavenlies, 
 and twa n t long afore I begun to see that twas 
 Nate Scudder and me that needed a keeper; we 
 was the biggest loons in the crowd. 
 
 Seems that the Twins was rich New Yorkers -
 
 THE MAN. 27 
 
 the richest and high-tonedest kind. Both of em 
 had money by the bucket and more being left to 
 em while you wait. They lived on some Avenue 
 with a number to it and they done business in the 
 " Street," meaning that they dickered in bonds and 
 such things, I gathered. Also I gathered they 
 didn t have to work overtime. 
 
 " But, if they ain t crazy what made em come 
 down here to live? " says I, " at Nate Scudder s? " 
 
 Well, that was a kind of poser, even for Mr. 
 James Opper Hopper Know-it-All. He com 
 menced to tell about society and pink teas I guess 
 twas pink; might have been sky-blue though and 
 races and opera parties and stocks, and " strenuous 
 life " and the land knows what. It seemed to sim 
 mer down finally to that book " The Natural 
 Life." Seems there was a kind of craze around 
 New York and the cities, stirred up by that book, 
 to get clear of luxury and comfort and good times 
 and so on, and get to living like poor folks. Liv 
 ing the " Natural Life," the valet called it. 
 
 " So? " says I, thinking of how I had to scratch 
 to keep body and soul together. " I ve been right 
 in style all my days and didn t know it. Hum! 
 going cranberrying and fishing and clamming and 
 taking gangs of summer folks out on seasick par-
 
 2 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 ties is the proper thing, hey? And your boss and 
 his chum want to live simple? " 
 
 Yes, he said they wanted to live real simple. 
 
 " Well," says I, " if Huldy Ann Scudder cooks 
 for em that s the way they ll live." 
 
 He went on with another rigmarole about how 
 the Heavenlies had lived in New York. Cutting 
 out everything about himself and that British lord 
 which was two-thirds of the yarn there was 
 some stuff about a girl named Page that interested 
 me. Seems she was the real thing in society, too. 
 Had money and good looks and fine clothes all 
 the strenuous nuisances. And she was engaged 
 to Hartley once, but they had a row or something 
 and broke it off. And now she was engaged to 
 Van Brunt. 
 
 " But, see here," I says, puzzled. " If she s 
 engaged to Van why ain t he to home courting her 
 instead of dissipating on baked beans and thin 
 feather beds over to Scudder s? Why ain t he to 
 home in New York getting ready to be married? " 
 
 Well, the marriage, so James said, was to be 
 arranged later. Near as I could find out Van and 
 this Agnes Page had mighty little to do with the 
 marrying. Twas their folks that was fixing that 
 up. Agnes herself had gone to Europe with her
 
 THE MAN 29 
 
 ma. When she was to home she was great on, 
 charity. She done settlement work, whatever that, 
 is, and her one idea in life was to feed ice cream; 
 to children that hankered for fishballs and brown; 
 bread. This wa n t exactly the way Lord James 
 give it out, but twas about the sense of it. 
 
 " Yes, yes," says I. " But how does Hartley 
 like chumming around with the feller that s going 
 to marry his old girl? " 
 
 It appeared that that was all right. Hartley 
 and Van was chums; loved each other like brothers 
 or better. Little thing like a girl or two didn t 
 count. Hartley was kind of used up and blue and 
 down on his luck and suffering from the Natural 
 Life disease; he wanted to cut for simplicity and 
 Nature. So Van, havin a touch of the Natural 
 himself, come along to keep him company. 
 
 " But this Page girl? " says I. " How does she 
 feel on the Natural Life question? " 
 
 " Oh, she believes in it too," says his Lordship. 
 " Only she s more interested In er charity and 
 elping the poor and heducating em," says he. 
 
 I fetched a long breath. " Well, Mr. Opper - 
 Hopper I mean " I says, " you can say what 
 you want to, but I ll still hang on to my first notion. 
 / think the whole crew is stark, raving crazy."
 
 30 MR, PP^iTT. 
 
 I d noticed that he hadn t been pulling at my 
 cigar much a good five-cent Bluebell cigar twas 
 too. Now he put it down, kind of like twas 
 loaded. 
 
 " My good feller," he says. " Would you mind 
 if I tried one of me own weeds? Ave one your 
 self," says he. 
 
 I took the cigar he handed me. It was one of 
 Van Brunt s particular brand. 
 
 " Humph! " thinks I, " your bosses may be sim 
 pletons for the love of it, Brother James, but not 
 you. No, sir-ee ! You re in it for the value of 
 the manifest." 
 
 In another half hour or so the Heavenly Twins 
 showed up alongside. And then twould have done 
 you good to see that valet s back get limber. He 
 bowed and scraped and " Sirred " till you couldn t 
 rest. They spoke to him like he was a dog and he 
 skipped around with his tail between his legs like 
 he was one a yellow one, at that. 
 
 When we d passed the point out comes that ever 
 lasting book and the Twins got at it. 
 
 * Van," says Martin Hartley, setting up and 
 taking notice; "the Natural Life for mine. I 
 envy the lucky devils who ve had it all their 
 lives. "
 
 THE MAN j 
 
 Twa n t none of my affairs, but I shoved my oar 
 in here couldn t help it. 
 
 " You fellers ain t getting the real article not 
 yet," says I. " There s a hotel over back of the 
 Village where the boarders get the ginuine simple 
 life no frills included," I says. 
 
 They was interested right off. 
 
 "Where s that, skipper?" says Van Brunt. 
 "What s its name?" 
 
 " Well," says I, " folks round here call it the 
 poorhouse." 
 
 Then they both laughed. Good nice fellers, as 
 I said afore, even if they was crazy.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 ITOO MANY COOKS 
 
 IT was a day or so after that that I see Nate 
 Scudder again. I d been out in the sloop 
 with a parcel of boarders they were begin 
 ning to get thicker at the Old Home now, same as 
 the mosquitoes and on my way home I met Nate 
 driving down the Neck Road. He was in the 
 carryall and I hailed him as he come abreast of 
 me. 
 
 " Hello, Nate! I says. " Taking the air, are 
 you?" 
 
 He pulled up his horse it didn t take a hard 
 pull and, while the critter leaned up against the 
 shafts and took a nap, Nate talked to me. It 
 appeared that there d been more or less trouble 
 down his way. Huldy Ann and Lord James 
 hadn t agreed any too well. 
 
 " You see," says Nate, taking a calico handker 
 chief out of his hat and swabbing his bald head 
 with it, " it s that valet feller he s too stuck-up 
 to live." 
 
 32
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 33 
 
 I wa n t going to fight with him on that point, 
 so he went ahead with his yarn. 
 
 " He come parading out to the barn," says Nate, 
 " and give out that he d been appointed cook in 
 Huldy Ann s place. Well, she d been sort of lay 
 ing herself out, as you might say, to please them 
 two up at the house giving em spider bread and 
 dried apple pie for breakfast, and the like of that 
 and it riled her to be chucked overboard that way. 
 So she got sort of sarcastic. That Opper man, 
 
 " His name s Hopper," I says. 
 
 " He don t call it so, then." 
 
 " That s all right. Him and I had a spell 
 ing match here t other day and Hopper it is," I 
 says. 
 
 " Well, then, this Hopper feller he lorded it 
 round, asking where the double biler was and 
 complaining that he couldn t cook steak without a 
 charcoal fire, and so on. Huldy took him down, 
 I tell you ! 
 
 " Charcoal your granny! says she. I ve 
 fried more steak than you ve got hairs on your 
 head, and a plain wood fire always done me, she 
 says. 
 
 " He cooked that steak, and say! I ll bet the
 
 34 MR. PRATT 
 
 Iron- Jawed Man I see once at a dime show up to 
 Boston couldn t have got away with it. Tough ! 
 Why, the pesky idiot never pounded it a bit ! How 
 do you expect to get tender steak if you don t pound 
 it? Haw! haw! " 
 
 When he got through laughing he went to say 
 that him and Huldy had decided to go over to her 
 sister s at Ostable for a visit. 
 
 " We ve been intending to go for a good while," 
 he says. " And now we can do it without its cost 
 ing much. Pay for the house goes on whether 
 we re there or not, and the railroad fare ll be more 
 than made up by the saving in our own grub. I m 
 a peaceable feller, anyhow," says he, " and there d 
 be no peace while Huldy and that Britisher was 
 together." 
 
 " Case of too many cooks spoiling the soup, 
 hey? " says I. 
 
 " Soup ! " he says. " Well, you wait a lit 
 tle spell. If they ain t chasing around after a 
 new cook inside of a week I m a Jonah, that s 
 all." 
 
 He was right. Couple of days later I heard 
 from Emmie T. that the Twins had hired Hannah 
 Jane Purvis to do the cooking for em. Han 
 nah Jane s late lamented had been cook on a
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 35 
 
 Banks boat when he was young, so I suppose she 
 cal lated she d inherited the knack. But I had my 
 doubts. 
 
 I was getting real chummy with the Heavenlies 
 by this time, so one afternoon I walked up to the 
 Scudder place to see em. They were sprawled 
 out on the piazza chairs with their feet on the rail 
 ing and they hailed me as friendly as if I was rich 
 as they was, instead of being poorer than Job s 
 turkey. I noticed Lord James tiptoeing around in 
 the parlor, so I naturally mentioned him. 
 
 "Your valet man, here," I says; "he wa n t 
 quite to the skipper s taste as cook, hey? " 
 
 They both laughed, Van Brunt with his big 
 good-natured " Ha, ha ! " and Hartley with that 
 quiet chuckle of his. 
 
 " James," said Van, " is a glittering success in 
 the wardrobe, but he dislikes to hide his talents un 
 der a kitchen bushel." 
 
 " James," said Hartley, " appears to apply the 
 same methods to trousers and steak." 
 
 " Presses both of em, don t he? " I says, think 
 ing of Scudder s yarn. 
 
 " Flat as a board," says Van. " Besides which, 
 this is supposed to be a pleasure cruise for Martin 
 and me, and James serves with the cheerful dignity
 
 36 MR. PRATT 
 
 of an undertaker. He s too complex; we yearn 
 for simplicity and rest." 
 
 I grinned. Well, you ve got the simplicity 
 with Hannah, ain t you? " I asked. " I ain t say 
 ing nothing about the rest." 
 
 Both of em groaned. I knew Hannah Jane 
 Purvis, and she had the name of talking the 
 hinges off a barn door. 
 
 " Lord ! " says Van. " Let s change the sub 
 ject. By the way, Martin; it s odd that Agnes 
 hasn t written." 
 
 Hartley was setting out towards the front of 
 the porch where the sun could get at him. Now he 
 shifted back into the shadow of the vines. 
 
 " Is it time for a letter to reach here ? " he asked. 
 
 " Why, yes. I should think so. She was to 
 reach New York on the first and sail on that day. 
 She would probably write on the steamer. It was 
 a fast boat and, allowing that the letter came back 
 immediately well, I don t know that it is time 
 yet." 
 
 He began to whistle. I gathered that, twas the 
 Page girl he was talking about. The valet had 
 told about her going on a trip to Europe. But it 
 struck me that, for an engaged man, Van Brunt 
 was the easiest in his mind of anybody ever I see.
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 37 
 
 I ve never been engaged myself, but judging by 
 them I ve known who was, he d ought to be shoot 
 ing telegrams to Europe faster than you could 
 shake em out of a pepper box. 
 
 Neither of em spoke for a minute. Then Hart 
 ley asked, quiet as usual, " Have you written her, 
 Van?" 
 
 " Oh, yes; dropped a line the other day, telling 
 her we were safe and duly housed and so on. 
 Whooped up the joys of the Natural and begged 
 her to go thou and do likewise. Which she 
 would like to do, probably, but which also if I 
 know her highly respected mamma she won t." 
 
 "Where did you address your letter?" Hart 
 ley asks, after a little. 
 
 " Liverpool, care of her usual hotel. She ll get 
 it all right always provided she hasn t already 
 organized a settlement colony of small Hooligans 
 in the Liverpool slums. But there ! Let s forget 
 morals and matrimony. Heigho ! Wonder what s 
 doing in the Street? Not that I care a red." 
 
 They seemed to have forgot me altogether. But 
 I was interested in their talk all the same, and I ve 
 tried to put it down just as I heard it. Twas queer 
 talk, but they was queer folks, and I was learning 
 how the big-bugs done their courting. From what
 
 38 MR. PRATT 
 
 I d heard so far I liked the Wellmouth way full 
 as well. 
 
 The front gate clicked. Van Brunt looked 
 up. "Great Scott!" says he, "it s the phono 
 graph." 
 
 Twas Hannah Jane Purvis coming home from 
 the next house with a dishpan full of peas. Han 
 nah was a kind of .scant patterned critter without 
 much canvas on her poles and her sleeves most gen 
 erally rolled up. She had brindled hair clewed 
 back so tight off her forehead that her eyes 
 wouldn t shut good, and the impression you got 
 from the first look at her was that she was all 
 square corners not a round one in the lot 
 
 " Well! " says she, coming up into the wind in 
 front of the piazza and looking at me hard. " I 
 do believe it s Solomon Pratt. Why, what a stran 
 ger you be! I ain t seen you for I don t know 
 when." 
 
 I didn t know when either and I didn t try to 
 remember. " Sufficient unto the day is the trouble 
 belonging to it," the Scriptures say, if I recollect 
 it right, and twas enough for me that she d seen 
 me this time. She comes over, dishpan and all, 
 and planks herself down on the steps right in front 
 of Van Brunt s chair. There ain t nothing shy
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 39 
 
 or unfriendly about Hannah Jane; she s the most 
 folksy female I ever come across, and always 
 was. 
 
 " My sakes! " says she, turning round to Van, 
 " I see Mr. Pratt come in here and I couldn t make 
 out who twas. Thinks I, They ve got company 
 and I must get there quick. So back I put, and I 
 don t know as I ve got a full measure of peas cause 
 it seemed to me that some of em spilled off the top 
 when Cap n Poundberry was emptyin em in. I 
 hope not, cause peas is high now. Not that it 
 makes any difference to well-off folks like you, Mr. 
 Van Brunt, but " 
 
 " Hadn t you better go back and pick em up? " 
 asks Van, solemn as an owl. 
 
 " Oh, land of love! no. There wa n t enough 
 for that. Besides I want to see Mr. Pratt. Well, 
 Mr. Pratt," says she. "I suppose you re surprised 
 enough to find me working out. Dear! dear! I 
 don t know what Jehiel he that was my first hus 
 band would have said; nor my second one 
 neither. But there ! we can t none of us never tell 
 what s in store for us in this world, can we?" 
 
 I made some sort of answer ; don t matter what. 
 She went ahead lamenting over what a come-down 
 twas for her to work out. You d think she d been
 
 40 MR. PRATT 
 
 used to marble halls to hear her. She settles the 
 dishpan between her knees and starts in shelling 
 peas, talking a blue streak all the time. She was 
 a whole sewing circle in herself, that woman. 
 
 " Jehiel was such a quiet man," she says, after 
 a spell. "He scarcely ever talked." (Didn t 
 have a chance, thinks I to myself.) When he 
 died did I ever tell you how Cap n Samuels my 
 first husband as was come to die, Mr. Hartley? " 
 says she. 
 
 Hartley had took up the Natural Life book 
 and was trying to read it. Now he looked up and 
 says, mournful but resigned, " No, Mrs. Purvis, 
 I believe we have never had the pleasure." 
 
 " The pleasure was wholly the Cap n s," says 
 Van Brunt under his breath. If Hannah Jane 
 heard him she didn t let it worry her. 
 
 "Well," she says, " twas this way: Captain 
 Jehiel him that was my first husband was the 
 most regular man in his habits that ever was, I 
 guess. Every Saturday night all the time we was 
 married and we was married eleven year, not 
 counting the two after he was took sick he al 
 ways had baked beans for supper. I used to say 
 to him, Jehiel, I used to say, ain t you tired of 
 baked beans? I should think you d turn into
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 41 
 
 beans, you re so fond of em. But he never did 
 and " 
 
 She stopped for a second to get her breath. Van 
 cut in quick. 
 
 "That wasn t the cause of his death, then?" 
 he asks, very grave. 
 
 "Who what?" 
 
 " Turning into beans ? Of course not. I be 
 lieve you said he didn t turn." 
 
 " I said he never got tired of em. Course he 
 didn t turn into em. Whoever heard of such a 
 thing? Well, as I was saying; every Saturday 
 night we had em, and one night twas the last 
 one, poor thing " She stopped to unfurl her 
 handkerchief and mop her eyes. 
 
 " Pray go on, Mrs. Purvis," says Van, very 
 polite. " You were saying twas the last bean " 
 
 " I said twas his last well night. There was 
 beans enough, land knows! Well, I had em on 
 the table and he set down. Hannah, says he, I 
 don t feel like beans to-night. I looked at him. 
 It wa n t because they wa n t good beans. I m 
 always as particular as can be about cooking beans. 
 Always put such to soak over night on a Friday, 
 and then Saturday morning I take em and put em 
 in the bean-pot along with some molasses and a
 
 42 MR. PRATT 
 
 nice chunk of pork. You can t be too particular 
 about your pork. Don t, I used to say to the 
 man that drove the butcher cart; don t, says I, 
 give me nothing but fat pork. Might s well 
 have plain lard and be done with it. Give me, 
 says I, a streaked chunk; streak of lean and a 
 streak of fat. Then I put em in the oven and 
 bake em all day and by night they re ready. So 
 when Jehiel says to me, Hannah, I don t feel 
 like beans, I set and looked at him." 
 
 " Did he look like em? " asks Van. 
 
 Hannah Jane switched round on the step and 
 stared at him. But he was as sober as a church 
 and just running over with sympathy, seemed so, so 
 she sniffed and went on. 
 
 " He looked sick," she says, " and I could see 
 that he was sick too. So I got him to bed and what 
 a night I put in ! Oh, the hot jugs to his feet ! 
 Oh, the running for the doctor! We had Dr. 
 Blake here then, Mr. Pratt. You remember him, 
 don t you? Great big tall man with gray whis 
 kers. No, wait a minute. Twas Dr. White that 
 had the whiskers; Dr. Blake was smooth-faced. 
 No, seems to me he had a mustache. I remember 
 he did because he was engaged to Emma Baker s 
 sister s girl and she used to say that when she once
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 43 
 
 got him for good he d have to raise more beard 
 than that. She said a doctor without a beard was 
 like a soft biled egg without without without 
 something or nother in it. Strange I can t think ! 
 An egg without something in it " 
 
 " Chicken, possibly," suggests Van. 
 
 " No, indeed. Salt! that s what twas. A soft 
 biled egg without salt in it. Now you d ought to 
 be as careful about biling eggs as you had about 
 anything else. Way some folks bile eggs is a sin 
 and shame. I ve et eggs so hard that you could 
 build a stone wall out of em, seems so; and then 
 again I ve et em when I ve actually had to drink 
 em. Now when / bile eggs I always let me see ; 
 I wa n t speaking of eggs when I fust started. 
 Where was I?" 
 
 " You were telling us about beans, I believe, 
 Mrs. Purvis," purrs Van again, sweet and buttery 
 as can be. " I seem to have a dim recollection of 
 beans, Mrs. P." 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes ! I was going on to tell of Jehiel s 
 sufferrn s, Mr. Van Brunt. If I could only begin 
 to give you an idea of that poor critter s agony. 
 Why, he who s that at the back door?" 
 
 Twas the neighbor s boy, as it turned out, come 
 to borrow a cupful of sugar, but he took Hannah
 
 44 MR. PRATT 
 
 Jane away from us, which was a mercy. She 
 dropped the dishpan and went inside. 
 
 Van Brunt looked after her. " Will some one 
 please inform me," says he, " whether I ve been 
 at a clinic, or a funeral, or just a cooking-school 
 session? " 
 
 "Humph!" says Hartley. "Unfortunate in 
 terruption. Now we shan t learn what became of 
 the long-suffering Jehiel." 
 
 " Oh, he died," says Van. " / wanted to find 
 out what became of those beans." 
 
 " I understand now why they put * At Rest on 
 Jehiel s gravestone," I says. 
 
 Hartley turned to me. " Skipper," he says, 
 " you mustn t think that Van and I are altogether 
 cold-blooded because we refuse to weep over the 
 departed Samuels. The lady has cheered us with 
 happy little memories of this kind ever since she 
 agreed to demean herself and make riz biscuit 
 at four-fifty per. She began with her cousin, who 
 died of small-pox, and she s worked down through 
 the family till she s got to her husband." 
 
 " Yes," says Van, " and he s only her first. We 
 shall hear later how Number Two fell into a stone- 
 crusher or was boiled in oil. Lord ! " 
 
 " Hank Purvis had five brothers," says I; " and
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 45 
 
 they ve all died within the last ten year. You ve 
 got more funerals coming to you." 
 
 It was quiet for a few minutes. Out back 
 we could hear Hannah Jane laying into the neigh 
 bor s boy because he tracked mud on the kitchen 
 floor. 
 
 " It was no use," says Van, decided. " I refuse 
 to renew my subscription to The Daily Morgue. 
 All those in favor of parting with the Widow Pur 
 vis at once, immediate, P. D. Q., will say Aye. 
 Contrary minded, No. It s a vote. Hannah is 
 erased. What shall we do, Martin go back to 
 James and dignity, or feed ourselves? " 
 
 Hartley seemed to be thinking. " Skipper," 
 says he to me, " you can cook. I even I, the in 
 teresting invalid can eat your chowder and like it 
 and come back for more. Will you come and help 
 us out? What do you say ?" 
 
 Van Brunt sat up straight. " Martin," says 
 he, " you re as comforting as the shadow of a great 
 rock in a in a something or other. You re a 
 genius. Pratt, you ve got to come here and live 
 with us. We need thee every hour, as Mrs. P. 
 sings at five A.M., which is her ungodly time for 
 getting out of bed. It s settled ; you re coming." 
 
 "Well, now; hold on," says I. "Some ways
 
 46 MR. PRATT 
 
 I d like to, and, if you want plain cooking, why, I 
 guess likely I can give it to you. But business is 
 business and there s my boat and my living for the 
 summer. You re here only a month, as I under 
 stand it, and 
 
 That didn t make no difference. I could fetch 
 the Dora Bassett along too, Van said. Hartley 
 explained that they intended to stay through the 
 summer, anyhow, perhaps later. He went on to 
 tell that he and his chum was what he called "re 
 deemed conventionalities," or some such name, and 
 that they intended to stay redeemed. They d 
 hitched horses and agreed to find the Natural 
 in all its glory. And the Natural they was going 
 to find if it took a thousand year. 
 
 " And while we re giving you the story of our 
 lives, skipper," says Hartley, with one of his half 
 smiles, " I want to say right here that our present 
 surroundings aren t all that fancy painted em. 
 They re too much in the lime light." This was 
 just one of his crazy ways of saying things ; I was 
 getting used to em a little by now. " We re too 
 prominent," he says. "The populace are too 
 friendly and interested." 
 
 " Also," says Van, " the select bunch of femi- 
 nines from the hotel have taken to making our
 
 TOO MANY COOKS 47 
 
 front walk a sort of promenade. Martin and I are 
 naturally shy; we pine for solitude." 
 
 There was more of this, but I managed to find 
 out that what they wanted was a quieter place than 
 Scudder s. A place off by itself, where they could 
 be as natural as a picked chicken. I agreed to try 
 and help m find such a place. And I said, too, 
 that I d think about the cooking idea. Money 
 didn t seem to be no object I could have my 
 wages by the hod or barrelful just as I see fit. 
 
 " Well," says I, getting up to go. " I ll see. 
 Let me sleep on it for a spell, same s you fellers 
 have done on Nate s pin-feather beds. But I ain t 
 so sure about your staying all summer. How about 
 that young lady friend of yours, Mr. Van Brunt? 
 She may take a notion to send for you to introduce 
 her to the King of Chiny or the Grand Panjandrum 
 with the little round bottom on top. Then you d 
 have to pack up and cut your cable." 
 
 Van, he looked hard at me for a minute. I 
 thought first he was mad at me for putting my oar 
 in where it wa n t supposed to be. Then he 
 laughed. " Sol," says he, " that young lady and I 
 are kindred spirits. For a year I m natural and 
 happy, and she can nurse her Hooligans and go on 
 charity sprees. Then well, then we fall back on
 
 48 MR. PRATT. 
 
 our respected parents and wedded er bliss. 
 Hey, Martin?" 
 
 Hartley, in the shadow of the vines, lit another 
 cigar and nodded. But he didn t say nothing. 
 
 For the next three or four days I chased around 
 trying to find a house and lot where them Heavenly 
 lunatics could be natural. I located a couple of 
 bully summer places, all trees and windmills and 
 posy beds and hot and cold water and land knows 
 what. But they wouldn t do; they "smelled of 
 coupons," Van said. What they really wanted, 
 or thought they wanted, was a state s prison in a 
 desert, I judged. 
 
 For a week or ten days we kept the hunt up, but 
 didn t have no luck. Whenever I d think I d un 
 covered a promising outfit the Heavenlies would 
 turn to and dump in a cargo of objections and bury 
 it again. After five or six funerals of this kind I 
 got sort of tired and quit. It got to be July and 
 their month at Nate s was most over. I was up 
 there the evening of the Third and I happened to 
 ask em if they wanted me and the sloop for the 
 next day. There was to be a Fourth of July cele 
 bration over to Eastwich, and some of the boarders 
 wanted to go and see the balloon and the races and 
 the greased pig chase, and such like. If the Twins
 
 TOO MAN? COOKS 49 
 
 didn t care I d take the job, I said. But they took: 
 a notion to go themselves. Van said twould be an 
 excuse for me to give em another chowder, if 
 nothing more. So, on the morning of the Fourth 
 we started, me and Van Brunt and Hartley and 
 Lord James, in the Dora Bassett. Talk about 
 cruises ! If I d known and yet out of it come- 
 But there ! let me tell you about it.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE PIG RACE 
 
 I DON T cal late that I ever had a better run 
 down the bay than I done that morning. 
 Twas a fair wind, and a smooth sea, not the 
 slick, greasy kind, but with little blue waves chas 
 ing each other and going " Spat ! spat ! " under the 
 Dora Bassett s quarter as she danced over em. 
 And that s just what she did dance. There 
 wa n t any hog-wallowing for her; she just picked 
 up her skirts, so to speak, and tripped along 
 towing the little landing skiff astern of her like 
 a sixteen-year-old girl going to a surprise party. 
 An early July morning on the bay down our way 
 is good enough for yours truly, Solomon Pratt. 
 Take it with the wind and water like I ve said; 
 with the salt smell from the marshes drifting out 
 from the shore, mixed up with the smell of the 
 pitch-pines on the bluffs, and me in the stern of a 
 good boat with the tiller in my hand and a pipe in 
 my face well, all right ! That s my natural life ; 
 and I don t need no book to tell me so, neither. 
 
 5
 
 THE PIG RACE 51 
 
 The Heavenlies enjoyed it, and they d ought to. 
 Twas clear then, though it got hazy over to the 
 east ard later on. But then, as I say, twas clear, 
 and you could see the schooners strung out on the 
 skyline, some full up, with their sails shining white 
 in the sun, and others down over the edge, with 
 only their tops ls showing. Far off, but dead ahead, 
 just as if somebody had dipped their finger in the 
 bluing bottle and smouched it along the bottom of 
 the sky, was the Wapatomac shore, and away aft, 
 right over the stern, was the Trumet lighthouse, 
 like a white chalk mark on a yellow fence, the fence 
 being the high sand bank behind it. 
 
 The Twins laid back and soaked in the scenery. 
 They unbuttoned their jackets and took long 
 breaths. They actually forgot to smoke, which was 
 a sort of miracle, as you might say, and even 
 Hartley, who had been bluer than a spoiled 
 mackerel all the morning, braced up and got real 
 chipper. By and by they resurrected that book of 
 theirs and had what you might call a Natural Life 
 drunk. I never see printing that went to a person s 
 head the way that book seemed to go to theirs. I 
 judged twas kind of light and gassy reading and 
 naturally riz and filled the empty places same as 
 you d fill a balloon.
 
 52 MR. PRATT. 
 
 Everybody was happy but Lord James, and I 
 could see that he wa n t easy in his mind. He set 
 about amidships of the cockpit and hung onto the 
 thwart with both hands, like he was afraid twould 
 bust loose and leave him adrift. If the Dora Bas- 
 sett had struck a derelict or something and gone 
 down sudden I ll bet they d have dredged up that 
 Hopper valet and the thwart together. And then 
 they d have had to pry em apart. His Lordship 
 wa n t used to water, unless twas to mix with some 
 thing else. 
 
 By and by Hartley shoves both hands into his 
 pockets, tilts his hat back and begins to sing. More 
 effects of the Natural Life spree, I suppose, but 
 twas bully good singing. Might have been saying 
 most anything, calling me a short lobster for what 
 I know, cause twas some foreigner s lingo, but the 
 noise was all right even if I did have to take 
 chances on the words. I cal late to know music 
 when I hear it. 
 
 " Good ! " says Van, when his chum stopped. 
 " Martin, you re better already. I haven t heard 
 you sing for two years or more. The last time was 
 at the Delanceys At Home. Do you remember 
 the Dowager and My daughter ? Heavens ! 
 and * My daughter s piano playing I Agnes told
 
 THE PIG RACE 53 
 
 the Dowager that she had never heard anything 
 like it. You and she were together, you know. 
 Give us another verse." 
 
 But Martin wouldn t. Shut up like a clam and 
 reached into his pocket for a cigar. 
 
 "That was A No. i, Mr. Hartley," says I. 
 " I wish you could hear Solon Bassett play the 
 fiddle ; you d appreciate it." 
 
 Van he roared and even Hartley managed to 
 smile. As for Lord James he looked at me like I d 
 trod on the Queen s corns. 
 
 Blessed if I could see what there was funny 
 about it. Solon can play like an Injun. Why, I ve 
 seen him bust two strings at a Thanksgiving ball 
 and then play " Mrs. McLeod s Reel " you 
 know, " Buckshee, nanny-goat, brown bread and 
 beans " on t other two, till there wa n t a still 
 foot in the hall. 
 
 We made Eastwich Port about noon and had 
 dinner. I cooked up a kettle of chowder fetched 
 the clams along with me from home and twould 
 have done you good to see the Heavenlies lay into 
 it. Lord James he skipped around like a hopper- 
 grass in a hot skillet, fetching glasses and laying 
 out nine or ten different kind of forks and spoons 
 side of each plate, and opening wine bottles, and
 
 54 MR. PRATT 
 
 I don t know what all. When he hove in sight of 
 the wharf that morning he was toting a basket 
 pretty nigh as big as he was. I asked him what it 
 was. 
 
 " Why, the amper," says he. 
 
 " The which? " says I. 
 
 " The lunch amper, of course," he says. " The 
 arnper for the heatables." 
 
 Well, I wondered then what in the nation was in 
 it, for twas heavier than lead. I remember that 
 the heft of it made me ask him if he d fetched 
 along some of the late Hannah Jane s left-over riz 
 biscuit. But now I see why twas heavy. There 
 was enough dishes and truck for ten men and the 
 cook in that basket. We had my chowder and 
 four kinds of crackers with it, and chicken and 
 asparagus, and nine sorts of pickles, and canned 
 plum pudding with sass, and coffee and good loud 
 healthy cheese, and red wine and champagne. 
 When I d hoisted in enough of everything so my 
 hatches wouldn t shut tight, and was pulling on 
 one of the Twins cigars, I says to Van 
 
 " Mr. Van Brunt," says I, " is this part of what 
 you call the Natural Life? " 
 
 " You bet, skipper ! " says he. He hadn t fin 
 ished the chowder end of the layout yet.
 
 THE PIG RACE 55 
 
 Well, I heaved a sigh. Twas kind of wwnatural 
 to me, having come on me all to once; but I 
 cal lated I could get used to it in time without shed 
 ding no tears. Didn t want to get used to it too 
 quick, neither; I wanted the novelty to linger 
 along, as you might say. 
 
 When the dinner was over the Heavenlies was 
 well enough acquainted with the family to nick 
 name it "lunch " I started in to help his lordship 
 wash dishes. The Twins sprawled themselves un 
 der a couple of pine trees and blew smoke rings. 
 
 " Hurry up there, messmate," says I to the 
 valet; " I want to get through time enough to run 
 up to the fair grounds and see that greased pig 
 race." 
 
 Hartley had been keeping so still I cal lated he 
 was dropping off to sleep, but it seems he wa n t. 
 He set up, stretched, and got to his feet. 
 
 " I ll go with you, skipper," says he. " Might 
 as well do that as anything. I ve never seen a 
 greased pig race. They don t have em on the 
 Street." 
 
 " Chase nothing but lambs there," drawls Van 
 Brunt, lazy, and with his eyes half shut. Then 
 he turned over and looked at his chum. 
 
 "Great Caesar! Martin," he 5ays, "you don t
 
 5 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 mean to tell me that you re going up into that 
 crowd of hayseeds to hang over a fence and watch 
 some one run, do you? Why any one on God s 
 earth should want to run," he says, " when they 
 can keep still, is beyond me; and why you, of all 
 men, should want to watch em do it that s worse 
 yet. Come here and be natural and decent." 
 
 But Hartley wouldn t do it. His blue streak 
 seemed to have struck in again and he was kicking 
 the sand, nervous-like, with his foot. 
 
 " Come on, Van," he says. " I want the walk." 
 
 " Not much," says Van. " Walking s almost as 
 bad as running. I ll be here when you get back." 
 And he stretched out on the pine needles again. 
 
 It may be that Hartley did want that walk, 
 same as he said, but he didn t seem to get much fun 
 out of it. Went pounding along, his cigar tipped 
 up to the visor of his cap, and his eyes staring at 
 the ground all the time. And he never spoke two 
 words till we got to the fair grounds. 
 
 There was a dickens of a crowd, five or six hun 
 dred folks, I should think, and more coming all the 
 time. Everybody that could come had borrowed 
 the horses and carryalls of them that couldn t and 
 had brought their wives and mothers-in-law and 
 their children s children unto the third and fourth
 
 THE PIG RACE 57 
 
 generation. There was considerable many sum 
 mer folks not so many as there is at the cattle 
 show in August but a good many, just the same. 
 I counted five automobiles, and I see the Barry 
 folks from Trumet riding round in their four- 
 horse coach and putting on airs enough to make 
 em lop-sided. 
 
 Hartley gave one look around at the gang and 
 his nose turned up to twelve o clock. 
 
 " Gad! " says he, " this, or something like it, is 
 what I ve been trying to get away from. Come on, 
 Sol. Let s go back to the boat." 
 
 But I hadn t seen so many shows as he had and I 
 wanted to stay. 
 
 * You wait a spell, Mr. Hartley," says I. 
 " Let s cruise round a little first." 
 
 So we went shoving along through the crowd, 
 getting our toes tramped on and dodging peddlers 
 and such like every other minute. There was the 
 " test your strength " machine and the merry-go- 
 round and the " ossified man " in a tent : " Walk 
 right up, gents, and cast your eyes on the greatest 
 marvel of the age all alive and solid stone only 
 two nickels a dime ten cents," and all the rest 
 of it. Pretty soon we come to where the feller was 
 selling the E Pluribus Unum candy red, white
 
 $8 MR. PRATT 
 
 and blue, and a slab as big as a brick for a 
 dime. 
 
 Hartley stopped and stares at it. 
 
 " For heaven s sake I " says he. " What do they 
 do with that?" 
 
 " Do with it ? " says I. " Eat it, of course." 
 
 "No? "he says. " Not really? " 
 
 " Humph! " I says. " You just wait a shake." 
 
 There was a little red-headed youngster scooting 
 in and out among the folks knees and I caught him 
 by the shoulder. " Hi, Andrew Jackson ! " says I. 
 " Want some candy? " 
 
 He looked up at me as pert and sassy as a black 
 bird on a scarecrow s shoulder. 
 
 " Bet your natural ! " says he. I jumped. 
 
 " Lord ! " says I ; " I cal late he knows you." 
 
 Hartley smiled. " How do they sell that , 
 that Portland cement?" says he. "Give me 
 some," he says, handing a half dollar to the feller 
 behind the oil-cloth counter. The man chiseled 
 off enough for a fair-sized tombstone and handed 
 it out. Hartley passed it to the boy. He bit off 
 a hunk that made him look like he had the mumps 
 all on one side, and commenced to crunch it. 
 
 11 There 1 " says I. " That s proof enough, 
 ain t it?"
 
 THE PIG RACE 59 
 
 But he wa n t satisfied. " Wait a minute," says 
 he. " I want to see what it does to him." 
 
 Well, it didn t do nothing, apparently, except 
 to make the little shaver s jaws sound like a rock 
 crusher, so we went on. By and by we come to the 
 fence alongside of the place where they had the 
 races. The sack race was on, half a dozen fellers 
 hopping around tied up in meal bags, and we see 
 that. Then Hartley was for going home again, 
 but I managed to hold him. The greased pig was 
 the next number on the dance order, and I wanted 
 to see it. 
 
 Major Philander Phinney, he s chairman of the 
 Eastwich selectmen and pretty nigh half as big as 
 he thinks he is; he stood on tip-toe on the judge s 
 stand and bellered that the greased pig contest was 
 open to boys under fifteen, and that the one that 
 caught the pig and hung on to it would get five 
 dollars. In less than three shakes of a herring s 
 hind leg there was boys enough on that field to 
 start a reform school. They ranged all the way 
 from little chaps who ought to have been home 
 cutting their milk teeth to " boys " that had yellow 
 fuzz on their chins and a plug of chewing tobacco 
 in their pants pocket. They fetched in the pig 
 shut up in a box with laths over the top. He was
 
 60 MR. PRATT 
 
 little and black and all shining with grease. Then 
 they stretched a rope across one end of the race 
 field and lined up the pig chasers behind it. 
 
 "Hello!" says Hartley, "there s our Port 
 land cement youngster. He ll never run with that 
 marble quarry inside of him." 
 
 Sure enough, there was the boy that had tackled 
 the candy. I could see his red head blazing like 
 a lightning bug alongside of a six-foot infant with 
 overalls and a promising crop of side whiskers. 
 Next thing I knew the starter Issachar Tiddit, 
 twas he opens the lid to the pig box and hollers 
 "Go!" 
 
 The line dropped. That little lone pig see 
 twenty odd pair of hands shooting towards him, 
 and he fetched a yell like a tugboat whistle and put 
 down the field, with the whole crew behind him. 
 The crowd got on tiptoe and stretched their necks 
 to see. Everybody hollered and hurrahed and 
 " haw, hawed." 
 
 Now I ve been calling the place where they had 
 the races and so on a field. Well, twa n t really 
 a field, but just part of the course where they had 
 trotting matches on cattle show days. There was 
 a fence on each side of it and across the ends of 
 the section they was using there was ropes
 
 THE PIG RACE 61 
 
 stretched. Back of the fences was the crowd on 
 foot, and back of the ropes was more of em, but 
 behind these ropes likewise was lots of horses and 
 wagons and carry-alls and such. Every wagon was 
 piled full of people and amongst em I could see the 
 Barry coach, with the four gray steppers prancing 
 up and down in front of it and old Commodore 
 Barry and his son on the front seat with the women 
 folks behind. 
 
 Well, when that pig started he made a straight 
 course for the lower end of the field, but the sight 
 of the horses and all scared him, I guess, and he 
 jibed and back he come again. Half a dozen of 
 the pig chasers them that was nearest to him 
 when he come about ran into each other and 
 piled up in a heap, squirming like an eel-pot. 
 They got up in a jiffy and started over again, 
 meeting the gang that was coming back on the 
 second lap. 
 
 By the time that pig had made three laps round 
 that course he was a candidate for the hogs lunatic 
 asylum. Twice he d been grabbed, once by the 
 ears and once by a leg, but his liveliness and the 
 grease had got him clear. About half of the boys 
 had given up the job, and was making for harbor 
 behind the fence; covered with sand and grease,
 
 62 MR. PRATT. 
 
 they was, and red and ashamed. The crowd was 
 pretty nigh as crazy as the pig, only with joy. 
 Even Hartley was laughing out loud first time 
 I d ever heard him. 
 
 That little chap with the red hair had been right 
 up with the mourners till the third round; then he 
 was stood on his head in the scuffle and left behind 
 down by the ropes in front of where the Barrys 
 was. The rest of the chasers were scattered around 
 the other end of the field, with the pig doing the 
 grand right and left in and out amongst their legs. 
 One of the boys that big lanky one whose cheeks 
 needed mowing made a flying jump and dove 
 head first right on top of the critter s shiny black 
 back. In a shake he was the underpinning, so to 
 speak, of a sort of monument of boys, all fighting 
 like dogs over a woodchuck. 
 
 Next thing I knew the pig shot out from under 
 neath the pile same as if he d been fired out of a 
 cannon. He was squealing when he begun to fly 
 and squealing when he lit, but his running tackle 
 hadn t been hurt any. Down the field he went and 
 the only one of the chasers in front of him was that 
 little red head. He makes a grab, misses, and the 
 pig keeps straight on, right into the crowd of men 
 and horses and carriages.
 
 THE PIG RACE 63 
 
 " Look out 1 " yells everybody. " Let him go ! " 
 But that little shaver wa n t built that way. Under 
 the ropes he dives, right where the jam of wheels 
 and hoofs was thickest. The Barry coach horses 
 rared up and jumped and backed. You could hear 
 wheels grinding and men yelling \n.d women 
 screaming. 
 
 I was one of the first over that fence, but, 
 quick as I was, that Hartley invalid was quicker. 
 As a general thing he moved like twas hardly 
 worth while to drag one foot after the other; but 
 now he flew. I could see his big shoulders shoving 
 folks over like they was ninepins. Under the ropes 
 he went and in where the tangle was the worst. 
 And then it closed up into a screeching, kicking 
 whirlpool like. Down he went and I lost sight of 
 him. 
 
 Everybody on the grounds was crazy, but I 
 cal late I was the worst Bedlamite of the lot. 
 Somehow I felt responsible. Twas me that told 
 about the Fourth of July doings first and got him 
 over there. Twas me that coaxed him into staying 
 for the consarned pig business. And I kind of felt 
 that I was his guardian, as you might say, now that 
 Van Brunt wa n t along. Yes, and by ginger, I 
 liked him I Course I thought of the poor little boy,
 
 64 MR. PRATT 
 
 too, but I m free to say twas Hartley that I 
 thought of most. 
 
 For the doings of the next two or three minutes 
 you ll have to ask somebody else. All s I remember 
 real well is catching hold of Issachar Tidditt s 
 Sunday cutaway and ripping it from main truck 
 to keelson. You see, Issachar was trying to back 
 out of the tangle and I was diving in. Next 
 thing I m sure of is hanging onto the bridle of 
 one of the Barry horses and playing snap the 
 whip with my feet, up and down and over and 
 under. 
 
 She cleared up some finally and there was a ring 
 of folks jamming and pushing and climbing be 
 tween wheels and under wagon bodies, and in the 
 middle of the ring was Hartley, kneeling on the 
 ground and looking pretty middling white and sick, 
 with a dripping cut over his eye, and with that 
 little shaver s red head in his lap. And old Doc 
 Bailey was there, but how or when he come 7 don t 
 know. Yes, me and the pig was there, too, but the 
 critter was out of commission, being dead, and I 
 was too busy to think where I was. 
 
 " How is he, doctor? " asked Hartley anxious. 
 
 The Doc didn t answer for a minute or so; he 
 was bending over the boy, sponging and swabbing
 
 THE PIG RACE 65 
 
 like all possessed. Poor little chap; he looked 
 white and pitiful enough, stretched out there 
 amongst that crowd of strangers and not a soul of 
 his own folks around to look out for him. And he 
 was such a gritty little mite. I looked at him; 
 chalk white he was, and still, with his eyes shut and 
 his breath coming kind of short and jerky. And 
 well, my breath got jerky, too. 
 
 " How is he? " says Hartley again. 
 
 Just as he said it the boy stirs and begins to 
 breathe more regular. The doctor seemed to feel 
 better. 
 
 " He ll come round all right now," says the Doc. 
 
 Twas the kick that knocked him out. The pig 
 got the worst of it and that saved him. There are 
 no bones broken. But he d have been trampled to 
 death afterwards if it hadn t been for you, sir. 
 Better let me fix up that cut." 
 
 But the Twin shook his head kind of impatient. 
 
 Tend to the boy," he says. So the doctor went 
 on with his sponging and swabbing and pretty soon 
 the youngster opens his eyes. 
 
 " Did I get him? " says he. 
 
 " What s that? " asked the Doc, stooping over. 
 
 " Did I get the pig? Is the fiver comin to me? " 
 
 Well, you d ought to have heard the crowd
 
 66 MR. PRATT 
 
 laugh. Somebody sings out, "Three cheers for 
 the kid," and they give em with a whoop. 
 
 "What s the matter with youse?" says the 
 youngster, setting up and looking around, dizzy 
 like. " Aw, cut it out ! " he says, when they begun 
 to holler some more. " Did I get the pig? " 
 
 " You bet you did," says the doctor, laughing. 
 " You re a spunky little rooster. Whose boy are 
 you, anyway? Belong in Eastwich? " 
 
 " Naw," says the little feller, like he was plumb 
 disgusted. "N York." 
 
 Hartley smiled. " A brother outcast," says he, 
 looking up at me. 
 
 Major Phinney had been shoving through the 
 crowd and now he was in the front rank, where, so 
 they tell me, he used to be in war time after the 
 fighting was over. 
 
 " He s one of them Fresh Air boys," says the 
 Major, puffing, but pompous. " There s a sum 
 mer school of em been started just outside the 
 town here. Couple of New York women brought 
 the tribe down last week. This one s one." 
 
 Little red head turned to Hartley. " Say," 
 says he, " don t you tell her." 
 
 " Tell who? " says Martin. 
 
 " The teacher. Miss Agony."
 
 THE PIG RACE 67 
 
 "Miss which?" 
 
 And just then here comes Issachar, his cutaway 
 hanging graceful and ornamental from the collar, 
 and piloting a mighty pretty and stylish young 
 woman to the front. She breaks loose from him 
 and runs for ard and flops down on her knees. 
 
 "Why, Dennis! Why, Dennis!" she says. 
 " How could you run away and behave like this? 
 Are you hurt? Is he " 
 
 She looks up at Hartley as she begins to ask the 
 last question. And he was staring at her as white 
 as a sheet of paper. 
 
 " Why, Agnes! " he says. And she went white, 
 too, and then red. " Oh ! " says she. And then 
 " Oh ! " again. " Oh, Martin! "
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 AFTER that there was a kind of tableau, 
 same as them they have at church soci 
 ables. Here was Hartley staring at the 
 young woman, and the young woman staring at 
 him, and the boy staring at both of em, and me 
 staring at the three, and the crowd around doing 
 grand double-back-action staring at the whole of 
 us. Then the party broke up, as you might say. 
 Hartley, red as a beet now, got up and bowed. 
 The young woman got up too and held out her 
 hand in a doubting sort of way. But afore he 
 could take it, she seemed to remember something, 
 or changed her mind, for she dropped the hand 
 and turned to the boy, who was on his feet by this 
 time looking down at the relics of his clothes. 
 And between grease and sand and dirt and rags 
 they made a ruin that was worth looking at made 
 you think of a rubbish pile with a red danger lan 
 tern on top. 
 
 68
 
 CRUISE OF THE "DORA BASSETT" 69 
 
 " You naughty boy! " says she. " How could 
 you do so? If you knew how frightened Miss 
 Talford and I have been. Are you hurt, dear? " 
 
 " Naw," says the dear, brisk and dssgusted. 
 " Sure I ain t." 
 
 The young woman fidgeted around him, petting 
 and " pooring " him and pinning him together, so 
 to speak. Hartley fidgeted too, not seeming to 
 have his bearings at all. He acted to me like he 
 wished he was ten thousand miles away; and yet 
 I cal late he didn t really wish it neither. The 
 doctor and Major Phinney were fussing around 
 and the crowd kept getting bigger and closing in. 
 
 " If you ll excuse me, Miss," says I, interfer 
 ing as usual where twas none of my affairs, " I 
 think perhaps twould be a good idea if we went 
 somewheres where twan t so popular. Maybe we 
 might go into one of the rooms at the hall or 
 somewheres." 
 
 " Why, of course ! " says Hartley, grabbing at 
 the notion like twas a rope I d thrown out to him. 
 " We ll go to the hall. Ag Miss Page, let me 
 present my friend, Mr. Solomon Pratt." 
 
 So twas the Page girl, after all. I d guessed 
 as much, though how she come to be in Eastwich 
 when she d ought to have been in Europe was
 
 70 MR. PRATT 
 
 more n I could make out. She looked up at me 
 and reached out her little hand with a kid glove on 
 it. Likewise she smiled not with her mouth 
 alone, same as an undertaker meeting the relatives 
 of the departed, but with her eyes too. Twas 
 the right kind of a smile. I m vaccinated and 
 not subject to women folks as a rule, but I d have 
 done considerable to get a deckload of them 
 smiles. 
 
 " I m very glad to know you, Mr. Pratt," says 
 she, just as though she meant it. And we shook 
 hands really shook em. 
 
 Afore I could get over that shake and smile 
 enough to be sensible, Major Philander shoved 
 her arm into his and headed for the hall. Drat 
 his figurehead! You never could beat that old 
 image when there was a pretty woman around. 
 Hartley looked kind of set back like. Then he 
 takes the boy by the hand and falls into the 
 Major s wake. Me and the doctor trailed along 
 behind. 
 
 The Doc kept talking about what a brave thing 
 the Twin s diving under the horses was, but I 
 didn t hear more than half of it. I was watching 
 the Page girl s hat and thinking how much pret 
 tier twas than the ones them boarder girls at the
 
 CRUISE OF THE "DORA BASSETT" 7 i 
 
 hotel wore. And yet there wa n t a quarter so 
 many feathers and ribbons and doodads on it. 
 
 The little chap was chirping up to Hartley all 
 the way. What worried him was when he was 
 going to get his five dollars. Martin told him 
 he d get it all right. He d advance it himself and 
 collect it afterwards. 
 
 "What s your name, son?" says he to the 
 youngster. 
 
 " Denny," says the boy. 
 
 "Denny? Dennis, you mean? Dennis what?" 
 " Aw, I don t know. Plain Denny, I guess." 
 " Where do you live in New York? " 
 " Over around Cherry Street most of the time. 
 Me and the old man used to hang out in the back 
 room of Mike Donahue s place on Mott Street 
 till he got sent up. Then I got to sellin papers 
 and doin shines and things. Sometimes I d take a 
 shy at the Newsboys Home nights. That s where 
 Miss Agony Miss Page, I mean found me. 
 I m one of the Fresh Air kids over to her place." 
 " Many more like you over there? " 
 "Sure! nine or ten of us; girls and all. We 
 been here a week now. I skinned out of the win 
 der this mornin and hoofed it over here. Wanted 
 to see the show. Gee! what a gang of jays!
 
 72 MR. PRATT 
 
 You re the guy what put up the eandy for me, 
 ain t you? " 
 
 " Shouldn t wonder. Do you like your 
 teacher? " 
 
 " Bet your life. She s a peach. So s the other 
 one; Miss Talford her name is." 
 
 " Humph! What do they call you over on the 
 East Side when you re at home? " 
 
 " Redny," says the little shaver. 
 
 Hartley looked down at him and smiled one of 
 his quiet grins. 
 
 "Bully for you, Redny!" says he. "You re 
 a brick." 
 
 We got through the crowd and into the hall 
 finally. Shutting the door was a job. The folks 
 outside seemed to think they d been cheated. I d 
 like to have got rid of Philander, but you couldn t 
 do that without a block and tackle; he stuck to 
 Miss Page like a kedge anchor to mud bottom. 
 The doctor was putting a strip of sticking plaster 
 on Hartley s forehead. The cut wa n t nothing 
 but a scratch, I m glad to say. 
 
 After a spell I see my chance and I cornered 
 the Major and commenced to talk politics. He 
 was hankering for the county representative nomi 
 nation and I knew his soft spot. Hartley and the
 
 CRUI&E OF THE "DORA BASSETT" 73 
 
 Page girl got together then, but they didn t seem 
 to know what to say. 
 
 I heard her explaining that she hadn t gone to 
 Europe at all. Her ma had been took sick; noth 
 ing to speak of, I judged, spell of " nerves " or 
 the like of that. So Agnes and her chum, this 
 Margaret Talford, had seen the chance they d 
 been waiting for and had got their poor children 
 tribe together and come down and took the 
 Lathrop place at South Eastwich. Seems Miss 
 Talford had hired it afore, intending to go the 
 Fresh Air v yage alone, long s she couldn t get 
 Agnes to go it with her. 
 
 "But how is it that you re here?" says she. 
 " I thought you were at the mountains." 
 
 Hartley explained that, at the last moment, 
 he had decided to try the seashore. He was at 
 Wellmouth for the present, he said. 
 
 " But you should have known I was here," she 
 says. " I wrote to to Ed, of course before I 
 left the city. Oh, I see ! I sent the letter to your 
 Adirondack address. But it should have been 
 forwarded." 
 
 Hartley stammered a little, but he said quiet 
 that he was afraid perhaps Van Brunt hadn t 
 thought to send word to have his mail forwarded.
 
 74 MR. PRATT 
 
 " I see," she says. " That s like Ed." 
 
 Martin seemed to think twas too, but all he 
 said was, " He s written you very faithfully. His 
 letters, of course, have gone to Liverpool." 
 
 Well, that was about all. We had to be going. 
 I said good-by and we started for the door. Miss 
 Page came over and held out her hand. 
 
 " Mr. Hartley," says she, " I want to thank you 
 for saving Dennis; Major Phinney told me about 
 it. It was brave. And I m glad that you re not 
 hurt." 
 
 She was pretty nervous, but a good deal less 
 flustered than he was when he took her hand. 
 
 " It was nothing, of course," he says, hurried 
 like. " That youngster was worth picking up. 
 Good morning, Miss Page." 
 
 He stopped a second to say something about 
 Van Brunt no doubt coming over to see her in a 
 day or so. And then we left the hall and headed 
 for the street. 
 
 We walked along pretty brisk for a ways, 
 neither of us saying much of anything. Whatever 
 there was I cal late I said. By and by we come to 
 the railroad crossing. And here Hartley stops 
 short. 
 
 " Sol," says he, " I believe I ll go back by
 
 CRUISE OF THE "DORA BASSETT" 75 
 
 train. I don t feel like a sea trip this afternoon. 
 That er that crack on the head has shaken me 
 up some, I guess. Explain to Van, will you? 
 Tell him I m all right, but that I ve got a little 
 headache. Understand? " 
 
 I presumed likely that I understood more 
 friaybe than he thought I did. Headache is a fair 
 ifo middling excuse, but I judged there was other 
 faings. I d seen them two look at each other 
 frhen they met, and well, they say a nod s as good 
 as a wink to a blind horse, and I ain t blind. I 
 made a sort of note in my mind to get the pumps 
 to working again on Lord James next time I got a 
 chance at him alone. 
 
 Hartley left me and went over to the railroad 
 depot and I kept on down the road to the shore. 
 I was loafing along, going over to myself the 
 doings of the afternoon and wondering what Van 
 Brunt would say and so on, when I come out into 
 the clear place at the top of Meeting House Hill. 
 And the meeting house clock struck four. 
 
 I jumped like I d set down on a hot stove. I 
 hadn t no idea it was as late as that. The pig and 
 the Page girl and the rest of the mix-up had put all 
 notion of time out of my head. I yanked out my 
 watch to make sure that that clock was right, and
 
 76 MR. PRATT 
 
 then I glanced at the sky. Over to the east ard 
 a big, fat, gray fog bank was piling up. Twas 
 high water at two, Eastwich Port cove is a nasty 
 place to get out of at low tide, and here was an 
 easterly fog coming. 
 
 As a general thing I don t take anybody s wash 
 when it comes to handling a boat, or looking out 
 for weather and such, but now I was ready to sing 
 small. A ten-year-old boy brought up along 
 shore would have known better than to do as I d 
 done. Don t make no odds how good an excuse 
 I had for forgetting; no excuse is good where it 
 comes to sailboating. I went down that hill like 
 the man in the tin coffin went to Tophet, " clinketty 
 jingle." I jumped fences and cut across lots, and 
 I m ready to swear right now that there s more 
 horse briars to the square inch in Eastwich Port 
 than in any other place on the Lord s green earth. 
 I bust through the pines and come out on the 
 beach yelling, " Hi ! Turn out, everybody! Get 
 aboard now. Lively! " 
 
 And, by time ! there wa n t a soul in sight. For 
 no less than twenty-two and a half minutes by my 
 watch I walked up and down that beach, seeing the 
 tide go out and bellering " Ahoy! " and " Where 
 are you ? " at the top of my lungs. And then, lo
 
 CRUISE OF THE "DORA BASSETT"^ 
 
 and behold you, here comes Van Brunt and Lord 
 James, poking along as easy as if they had all the 
 time there was. Van had been over behind the 
 point taking a swim and his Lordship had gone 
 along to set on his boss s trousers and keep the 
 creases in, or some such mighty important job. 
 
 " All right, skipper; all right, 1 1 drawls Van, cool 
 as a Sunday school boy at an ice cream sociable. 
 " You ve got good lungs and you d ought to be 
 careful of em. I ve heard you whooping for the 
 last ten minutes. What did you and Martin have 
 when you were up town? By the way, where is 
 Martin?" 
 
 He was so everlasting comfortable and sassy 
 and I was so biling hot and nervous that it made 
 me mad. 
 
 " He s gone home on the train," I snapped out. 
 " Got a headache." 
 
 "Headache, eh? Humph! What did you 
 have up town and where did you get it? " 
 
 " Never mind where we got it," says I. 
 " You ll get a headache from setting up stuck on 
 a shoal all night if you don t get aboard that boat. 
 Look at them clouds." 
 
 He looked at em. " Ah," he says; " very like 
 a whale."
 
 7 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 I didn t know what he meant and I didn t 
 care. 
 
 "Whale! " says I. "Well, we ll be lucky if 
 we ain t the Jonahs. Get aboard with that basket, 
 you Opper what s-your-name, will you; if you 
 want to fetch port to-night." 
 
 Lord James looked like he d like to put another 
 " ead " on me, but his boss was round and he 
 dassent talk back. Between us we loaded the dun 
 nage. Then Van got aboard, deliberate enough to 
 try a parson s patience, and I cast loose and got 
 sail on the Dora Bassett. We d made a start, 
 anyhow. 
 
 But it turned out that was all we d made. Van 
 commenced to ask me more -about Hartley, and 
 afore I could tell him the news about the pig race 
 and the rest, the Dora Bassett run her nose on a 
 sand flat and there she stuck. I was afraid of that 
 tide all along. 
 
 I tried to get her off with the oar, but twas no 
 go. Then I pulled the skiff alongside the one 
 we d been towing astern and got into that and 
 tried that way. But that wouldn t work either. 
 Finally I jumped overboard up to my waist and 
 then I got her off. 
 
 But she stuck again afore we got out of the cove.
 
 CRUISE OF THE "DORA BASSETT" 79 
 
 I splashed and shoved and worked for another 
 half hour or so, the wind dying out and the fog 
 drifting in. Time I got her afloat this time and 
 had listened to a steady stretch of Van Brunt s 
 lazy sarcasms, my temper was worn to shoe-strings. 
 Consarn the man ! It didn t seem to make no dif 
 ference to him whether he got home that night or 
 a week from then. 
 
 We got out of that blessed cove and into the 
 channel somewheres around six o clock. Then 
 twas a dead beat home and the breeze pretty nigh 
 gone. A few minutes, and the fog shut down on 
 us, wet and thick and heavy as ever I see it. We 
 poked along for an hour or so more and then 
 twas most dark and we wa n t half way to Well- 
 mouth. Lord James was in his usual position, 
 hanging on to the centerboard and moving his head 
 from one side to t other as if he was afraid of 
 being hit when he wa n t looking. I d pretty nigh 
 scalped him with the boom once or twice and now 
 he ducked whenever the tiller squeaked. He cer 
 tainly looked like a statue of misery in a fountain, 
 with the fog dripping off his side-whiskers. 
 
 Van was stretched out on the locker, blowing 
 smoke rings and spouting poetry. I d been too 
 busy to tell him a word about his girl s being in
 
 8o MR. PRATT 
 
 the neighborhood. Fact is, I didn t like the feel 
 of things. I believed there was wind coming. 
 
 " See here," says I, finally, " one of you fellers 
 11 have to go for ard and keep an eye out 
 for shoals. We re on the edge of the channel 
 here and I want to be in deep water afore a 
 squall hits us. I cal late there s one pretty nigh 
 due." 
 
 His Lordship just stared at me fishy-eyed and 
 pitiful. As for Van, he went on reciting some 
 thing about being on the sea, " with the blue above 
 and the blue below." He wa n t going to stir 
 not him. 
 
 " Look here," I says. "If we strike a sand 
 bar and a squall strikes us at the same time we ll 
 go below, way down, where it s a big sight bluer 
 than tis here, cording to the minister s tell. Go 
 for ard on lookout, won t you ? " 
 
 So he went, though I doubt if he d have known 
 a bar when he see one not that kind anyway. 
 
 Pretty soon the breeze give out altogether. 
 And then, from off in the distance, I heard a noise, 
 a rushing, roaring kind of noise. 
 
 " Hark ! " I yells. " Do you hear that ? Here 
 she comes! Down with the jib. Haul on that 
 rope, Mr. Van, will you? No, no! T other
 
 CRUISE OF THE "DORA B4SSETT" 81 
 
 one! T other one! Godfrey scissors! Here 
 you Opper; hang on to that tiller ! Keep her just 
 as she is." 
 
 I made a long arm, grabbed that valet man by 
 the collar, yanked him into the sternsheets and 
 jammed the tiller into his hand. Then I took a 
 flying leap for ard where the Twin was trying to 
 cast loose the peak halliard, having a notion, it 
 seemed, that it ought to belong to the jib. 
 
 The squall struck us. The fog split into pieces, 
 same as a rotten tops l. The Dora Bassett heeled 
 over till I thought she was going on her beam ends. 
 His Lordship turned loose a yell like a tugboat 
 whistle, lets go the tiller and dives headfirst into 
 the cockpit amidships. As for me, I was swing 
 ing out over the side with my whole weight on the 
 jib downhaul, pawing air with my feet, and trying 
 to get back my balance. 
 
 That downhaul was old and some rotten. It 
 broke and I went overboard with a howl and a 
 splash. 
 
 I went down far enough to begin to get glimpses 
 of that blue place I was speaking of just now. 
 Then I pawed up for air. When my head stuck 
 out of water there was something big and black 
 swooping past it. I made a grab and caught hold.
 
 82 MR. PRATT 
 
 As luck would have it twas the skiff we was tow 
 ing astern. 
 
 I climbed into that skiff like a cat up a tree. 
 I was full of salt water eyes and all but I 
 could see the Dora Bassett flopping ahead of me 
 with her gaff halfway down her mast. Seems 
 the halliard had broken just after the downhaul 
 did. 
 
 I roared, a sputtering kind of roar. And then 
 Van s head stuck out over the sloop s stern. 
 
 " God sakes! " says he. " Are you drowned? " 
 
 " Drowned! " I hollers. " Think I m a pesky 
 lubber just cause you " I had to stop here to 
 cough. I was a regular tank, as you might say, 
 of salt water. 
 
 "Good heavens!" says Van. "Do they 
 always do that boats, I mean? " 
 
 " Always do " I was so mad at myself and 
 all creation that I could scarcely answer. " Oh, 
 suffering mighty ! if ever I go to sea again with a 
 parcel of Catch a hold of that tiller! Bring 
 her into the wind! Cast off that mainsheet! 
 Cast it of! Here comes another one! " 
 
 I suppose mainsheets are kind of scarce on the 
 " Street." Anyhow I see that he didn t know 
 what I meant
 
 CRUISE OF THE "DORA BASSETT" 83 
 
 " That rope at the stern," I hollers, dancing 
 around in the skiff. " Cast it off! Lively! " 
 
 The second squall struck us. I see the Dora 
 Bassett drive off in a sweeping half circle, the end 
 of the boom knocking the tops of the waves 
 to pieces and the spray flying like a waterfall. 
 And, louder than the wind or anything else, I 
 could hear Lord James bellering for home and 
 mother. 
 
 But twan t till afterwards that I remembered 
 any of this. Just then I had other fish to fry. 
 There was two or three ropes at the sailboat s 
 stern and Van had cast off one of em, same as I 
 ordered. 
 
 Only, as it happened, instead of the mainsheet 
 he d cast off the skiff s painter. Me and the Dora 
 Bassett was parting company fast. 
 
 From out of the dark ahead of me come a yell, 
 louder even than Lord James distress signals. 
 
 " Sol! " hollers Van Brunt. " Sol Pratt! " 
 
 " Ay, ay! " I screams. " I m all right. Never 
 mind me. Put your helm over to port." 
 
 "Put what?" 
 
 " Put your helm over to port! Port! 
 you lubber! PORT!" My manners had gone 
 overboard when I did and they d missed the skiff.
 
 84 MR. PRATT 
 
 Twas quiet for a minute. Then, from further 
 off comes the screech: 
 
 " What part of the damn thing 
 is port?" 
 
 " Never mind! " I yells. " Keep her just 
 as she is. You ll fetch up all 
 right. Better take reef. Slack that main 
 sheet!" 
 
 Then I had to quit and grab up the oars and 
 bring the skiff bow on to the seas. When I got her 
 headed right I couldn t see nor hear nothing of the 
 Dora Bassett. As Major Philander Phinney says 
 when he gets to telling how much better General 
 Grant would have done if he d took his advice. I 
 was " disconnected with my base of supplies."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 OZONE ISLAND 
 
 1WAS pretty busy for the next good while 
 tending to that skiff. And scared, don t say 
 a word. Not scared for myself, you under 
 stand no indeed. When I get drowned, with a 
 tight plank under me and a pair of oars in my 
 hand, twon t be in the bay, I ll tell you that. But 
 I was scared for Van Brunt and His Lordship in 
 the Dora Bassett. They didn t either of em 
 know the jib boom from the rudder, and the valet 
 was too -crazy frightened to be of any use if he 
 had. 
 
 But Van was sure to be cool enough, and the 
 broken gaff would act like a double reef, so that 
 was some comfort. And the squall wa n t going 
 to amount to nothing twas only a fair breeze 
 even now so if Van had sense enough to keep the 
 tiller straight and let her run they d fetch up some- 
 wheres alongshore, I judged. And, to make me 
 hope still more, the squall had brought a complete 
 
 85
 
 86 MR. PRATT 
 
 change of wind with it; now twas blowing back 
 up the bay instead of out to sea. 
 
 So I squared my shoulders and laid to the oars, 
 heading for where, judging by the wind, the land 
 ought to be. Twas darker than a black kitten in 
 a nigger s pocket, but I cal lated to be able to hit 
 the broadside of the United States somewheres. 
 I got aground on the flats five or six times, but 
 along towards midnight I butted ashore at the little 
 end of nowhere where there was nothing but bushes 
 and sand and pines, no sign of civilization. And 
 by this time twas pouring rain. 
 
 After a couple of years of scratching and swear 
 ing and falling down I come out of the scrub into 
 a kind of clearing. Then I discovered a barbed 
 wire fence by hanging up on it like a sheet on a line 
 and located the back of a barn by banging into it 
 with my head. Then a nice talkative dog come 
 out of the barn and located me, and things com 
 menced to liven up. 
 
 While me and the dog was conducting our ex 
 perience meeting a light showed in an upstairs win 
 dow a little ways off and somebody sticks their 
 head out and wants to know what s the matter. 
 
 Who are you? " he says. 
 
 " My name s Pratt," says I.
 
 OZONE ISLAND $7 
 
 "Where are you? " 
 
 " Well," I says, " judging by the feel and smell 
 I m on the top of the pig-sty. But I ain t real 
 sure. I can tell you where your dog is, if you 
 want to know." 
 
 " What are you doing round here this time of 
 night? " he says. 
 
 I told him as well as I could. The dog was 
 having a conniption fit, trying to bark itself inside 
 out, and I had to say things over three or four 
 times so s a body could hear. But the feller at 
 the window wa n t satisfied even then. I never 
 see such a wooden-head. 
 
 What Pratt did you say you was? " he hollers. 
 
 I told him my name and where I hailed from. 
 
 "Sol Pratt?" says he. "Of Wellmouth? 
 What are you doing way over here ? " 
 
 " Blast it all ! " I yells. " If I wa n t half 
 drowned already I should say I was getting wet. 
 Turn out and let a feller into the kitchen of 
 somewheres, won t you? And tie up this ever 
 lasting dog." 
 
 That seemed to wake him up some and in tea 
 minutes or so he comes poking out with a lantern. 
 I knew him then. Twas Ebenezer Holbrook, 
 Huldy Ann Scudder s sister s husband, who lives
 
 88 MR. PRATT, 
 
 over in the woods on the line between South East- 
 wich and West Ostable. There was another man 
 with him and blest if it didn t turn out to be 
 Nate Scudder himself. Him and Huldy was visit 
 ing over there, same as he said they was going to. 
 
 Nate had more than a million questions to ask. 
 Ebenezer tied up the dog the critter pretty nigh 
 broke down and sobbed when he found I wa n t to 
 be fed to him and we went into the kitchen. 
 Then Mrs. Holbrook and Huldy Ann, rigged up 
 tasty and becoming in curl papers and bedquilts, 
 floated downstairs and there was more questions. 
 
 When Nate found out that one of his lodgers 
 was cast adrift in the bay he was almost as worried 
 and upset as I was. But Ebenezer agreed with us 
 that there was a good chance of the sloop s getting 
 ashore safe. He said why didn t I turn in on his 
 setting-room lounge for the few hours between 
 then and sun-up, and In the morning me and Nate 
 could take his yawl dory and cruise alongshore and 
 hunt. So I done it, though twas precious little 
 sleep I got. 
 
 About six o clock we started. I thought first 
 I d go up to Eastwich village and telegraph to 
 Hartley. Then I thought I d better not; no use 
 to scare him till I had to. Nate had heard about
 
 OZONE ISLAND 89 
 
 the pig chase and Hartley s doings over there and 
 he pestered the life out of me with questions about 
 that. 
 
 " Queer that boy should turn out to be his 
 brother, wa n t it?" he says. 
 
 "Whose brother?" says I, leaning out over 
 the yawl s side and watching for signs of the Dora 
 Bassett. 
 
 " Why, Hartley s," says he. 
 
 "Brother!" says I. " Twan t his brother. 
 No relation to him." 
 
 " I heard different," he says. " I heard twas 
 his brother, name of Oscar Dennis. And that 
 woman from the school was his brother s wife. 
 Some says she ain t living with her husband and 
 some say Hartley s right name is Dennis and that 
 she s his wife and he was down here hiding from 
 her. Seems when that boy first dove into the 
 crowd twas because he d seen Hartley. They 
 say that when that woman and this Hartley met, 
 she sings out, * My God ! my husband ! That s 
 what some says she said, and others says " 
 
 " She never said no such thing," I says. " She 
 wouldn t swear if he was her husband four times 
 over; she ain t that kind. And she ain t his wife 
 nor his sister nor his sister-in-law nor his grand-
 
 90 MR. PRATT 
 
 mother s cat s aunt, neither. She s no relation to 
 him and neither s the boy. Who s been giving you 
 all this rigmarole? " 
 
 It seems he d heard it from a feller that lived 
 next door to Ebenezer; and the feller had heard it 
 from somebody else that had got it from some 
 body else and so on and so on and so on. Nigh s 
 I could find out it had started from Hartley s tell 
 ing me that the boy was a " brother outcast. * 
 Some idiot with poor ears and worse brains had 
 thought he said " brother Oscar," and the whole 
 string of yarns had sprouted from that. Shows 
 you what good soil there is for planting lies down 
 our way. If lies was fetching ten cents a barrel 
 the whole neighborhood would have been rich 
 years ago. 
 
 All the time me and^Nate was pow-wowing this 
 way the yawl was sailing up the bay towing my 
 skiff behind her. There was a nice fair wind and 
 a smooth sea and twas so clear after the rain, that 
 we could see the hills across the bay. But no sign 
 could we see of the Dora Bassett nor her passen 
 gers. I was getting more worried every minute. 
 
 We cruised along till we got abreast of the point 
 from where the Old Home pier was in sight. But 
 the sloop wa n t at the pier. No use going any
 
 OZONE ISLAND 9 i 
 
 farther, so we come about and begun to beat back 
 again the way we d come. Scudder was worried 
 too, but his worriment had caught him in the 
 pocketbook; proves how disease will always get 
 hold of a feller s tenderest place. 
 
 "Look here, Sol," says he; "do you cal late 
 Hartley 11 want to stay to my house if his chum s 
 drowned? " 
 
 " I don t know," I says, impatient. " No, I 
 guess not." 
 
 " Well now, he agreed to take it for a month 
 and there s five days to run yet. Ain t he liable 
 for them days? " he says. 
 
 I was feeling just mean enough to want some 
 body else to feel that way, so I answers, 
 
 " Well, you can t hold a lunatic, cording to 
 law. And you and Huldy Ann have agreed that 
 he s crazy." 
 
 He thumped the boat s rail. " Crazy or not," 
 says he, "I can t afford to lose them days. I 
 shan t give him back none of his money." Then 
 he thought a minute and begun to see a speck of 
 comfort. " Maybe the shock of t other feller s 
 drowning 11 make him sick," he says. " Then 
 he ll have to stay longer than the month." 
 
 Trust Nate Scudder to see a silver lining to any
 
 92 MR. PRATT 
 
 cloud and then rip out the lining and put it in 
 his pocket. 
 
 By this time we was beating in towards where 
 the Neck Road comes down to the beach. And 
 there on the shore was a feller hailing us. And 
 when we got close in it turned out to be Hartley 
 himself. 
 
 He was glad enough to see me, but when he 
 found that Van and Lord James had turned up 
 missing he was in a state. He d been kind of 
 scared when we didn t come back during the night 
 and had walked down to the beach in the morning 
 to see if he could sight us. 
 
 We headed off shore again. Nate watched 
 Hartley pretty close and I suppose when he seen 
 that the Twin didn t show any symptoms of getting 
 sick, he begun to worry again. He got out a piece 
 of pencil and an old envelope and commenced to 
 figure. 
 
 " Mr. Hartley," says he, after awhile; " about 
 them lady friends of yours over to Eastwich. Do 
 you cal late they re going to like where they are? 
 Seems to me a place that s as easy to run away from 
 as that ain t the best place for a boy s school. If 
 they was on an island now, the scholars couldn t 
 run off. I know a nice island they could have
 
 93 
 
 cheap. Fact is, I own it that is, Huldy owns it; 
 it s in her name. That s it over there." 
 
 Hartley didn t answer. I looked where Nate 
 was pointing. 
 
 "Oh!" says I. " Horsefoot Bar. That s a 
 healthy place for a school. Might do for a 
 reform school maybe, if you wa n t particular how 
 the reforming was done." 
 
 Horsefoot Bar is a little island about five mile 
 from the Old Home House, a mile and a half from 
 the mainland, and two foot from the jumping-off 
 place. By the help of Providence, decent weather, 
 a horse, two whips, and a boat, you can make it 
 from Wellmouth depot in three hours. And 
 when you have made it, you can set in the sand 
 and hang on to your hat and listen to the lone- 
 someness. I d forgot that Scudder owned it. 
 When him and I had sailed up that morning we d 
 passed it on the outside; now we was between it 
 and the beach. 
 
 " It s a nice dry place," says Nate, arguing, 
 " and you might live there forever and nobody 
 could run away." 
 
 " Humph! " says I, thinking of something I d 
 seen in a newspaper; " Hell s got all them recom 
 mendations."
 
 <34 MR. PRATT 
 
 Hartley was looking at the Bar now. All to 
 once he grabbed me by the arm and pointed. 
 
 " Sol," he says, " what s that sticking up over 
 the point there? There, behind those trees? 
 Isn t it a boat s mast? " 
 
 I looked, and looked once more. From where 
 we was you could see a part of Horsefoot Bar that 
 was out of sight from the rest of the bay. As I 
 say, I looked. Then I gave the tiller a shove that 
 brought the boom across with a slat. It took 
 Nate s hat with it and cracked him on the bald spot 
 like thumping a ripe watermelon. Nate grabbed 
 for the hat and I drove the yawl for Horsefoot 
 Bar. I d spied the Dora Bassett s mast over the 
 .sandspit. 
 
 In a jiffy we see her plain. She was lying on 
 her side in a little cove, just as the tide had 
 left her. Her canvas was down in a heap, 
 partly on deck and partly overboard, but she 
 didn t seem to be hurt none. I beached the 
 yawl just alongside of her, dropped the sail, 
 chucked over the anchor and jumped over my 
 self. Hartley and Scudder followed. We was 
 yelling like loons. 
 
 Up through the bunch of scrub pines we tore, 
 still hollering. And then, from away off ahead
 
 OZONE ISLAND 95 
 
 somewheres, come the answer. I was so tickled 
 I could have stood on my head. 
 
 In a minute here comes Lord James to meet us. 
 His Lordship looked yellow and faded, like a 
 wilted sunflower, and his whiskers seemed to be 
 running to seed. But his dignity was on deck all 
 right. 
 
 " Mr. Artley," says he, touching what was left 
 of his hat; " ope you re well, sir." 
 
 " Where s Van? " asked Hartley, brisk. 
 
 " Mr. Van Brunt, sir? Up at the ouse, wait 
 ing for you, sir." 
 
 " The house? " says Hartley. 
 
 " The house! " says I. Then I remembered. 
 
 There is a house on Horsefoot Bar. It was 
 built by old man Marcellus Berry, and in Marcel- 
 lus s day they built houses, didn t stick em to 
 gether with wall paper and a mortgage, like they 
 do now. Consequence is that, though the winter 
 weather on Horsefoot made Marcellus lay down 
 a considerable spell ago, his house still stands, as 
 pert and sassy an old gable-ended jail as ever was. 
 The house was there, and Scudder owned it. 
 Likewise he owned the sheds and barn in back, and 
 the sickly bunch of scrub pines, and the beach plum 
 bushes, and the beach grass and the poverty grass,
 
 96 MR. PRATT 
 
 and the world-without-end of sand that all these 
 things was stuck up in. As for the live stock, that 
 was seven thousand hop-toads, twenty million sand 
 fleas, and green-heads and^mosquitoes forever and 
 ever, amen. 
 
 We fell into the valet s wake and waded through 
 the sand hummocks up to the house. And there 
 on the piazza, sitting in a busted cane-seat chair 
 with his feet cocked up on the railing and the regu 
 lation cigar in his mouth, was Van Brunt, kind of 
 damp and wrinkled so far as clothes went, but 
 otherwise as serene and chipper a Robinson Crusoe 
 as the average man is likely to strike in one life 
 time. 
 
 Wa n t we glad to see him! And he was just 
 as glad to see us. 
 
 " Hello, skipper," says he, reaching out his 
 hand. " So you got ashore all right. Good 
 enough. I was a bit fearful for you after you left 
 us last night." 
 
 After I left him! I liked that. And he was 
 fearful for me. 
 
 " Humph! " says I, " I had a notion that twas 
 you that did the leaving. Talk about dropping an 
 acquaintance! I never was dropped like that 
 afore ! Look here, Mr. Van Brunt, afore you and
 
 OZONE ISLAND 97 
 
 me go to sea together again we ll have a little 
 lesson in running rigging. I want to learn you 
 what a mainsheet is." 
 
 " Oh," he says, careless like, " I guess I found 
 it, after a while. At any rate if it s a rope I cut 
 it. I cut all the ropes in sight." 
 
 " You did? " says I, with my mouth open. 
 
 "Yes. That s an acrobatic boat of yours; it 
 seemed to want to turn somersets. I judged that 
 that sail made it top-heavy so I told James to take 
 the sail down. He didn t know how but we de 
 cided that the ropes must have something to do 
 with it. So I cut em, one after the other, and the 
 sail came down." 
 
 "Sudden? "says I. 
 
 " Well, fairly so. Some of it was in the water 
 and the rest of it on James. I resurrected him 
 finally and we pulled most of it into the boat. It 
 went better then." 
 
 " Did, hey? " says I. I was learning seaman 
 ship fast. 
 
 " Yes," says he. " If I were you I wouldn t 
 have any sail on that boat. She does much better 
 without one. Then it began to rain and I got 
 some of the dry sail over me. I believe I went to 
 sleep then or soon after."
 
 98 MR. PRATT 
 
 Nate Scudder s eyes was big as preserve dishes. 
 I guess mine was bigger still. 
 
 " Good Lord! " says I. " Did his did James 
 go to sleep too? " 
 
 " No," says Van. " I think not. I believe 
 James was holding some sort of religious service. 
 How about it, James? " 
 
 His Lordship looked sheepish. " Well, sir," 
 he says. " I don t know sir. I may ave been a 
 bit nervous; I m not used to a boat, sir." 
 
 " I shouldn t mind your praying, James," Van 
 says, sober as a deacon; " if you didn t yell so. 
 However, we got here on this island about five 
 o clock, I believe. Rather, the boat came here 
 herself; we didn t have anything to do with 
 it." 
 
 I never in my life! They say the Almighty 
 looks out for the lame and the lazy. Van Brunt 
 wa n t lame, but 
 
 " Well," says I. " I ll believe in special Provi 
 dences after this." 
 
 Van jumped out of the chair. 
 
 "By George!" he sings out. "Talking of 
 special Providences; Martin, come here." 
 
 He grabbed t other Twin by the arm and led 
 him down off the piazza and up to the top of a
 
 OZONE ISLAND 99 
 
 little hill near the house. The rest of us followed 
 without being invited. I know you couldn t have 
 kept me back with a chain cable. I haven t visited 
 many asylums and I wanted to see the patients 
 perform. 
 
 " Look here, Martin," says Van, when we got 
 to the top of the hill. " Look around you." 
 
 We all looked, I guess; I know I did. There 
 was the old Berry house, square and weather- 
 beat and gray. And there was a derelict barn 
 and a half dozen pig pens and hen houses stranded 
 alongside of it. And there was Horsefoot Bar 
 all around us for a half mile or so, sand and 
 beach grass and hop-toads, all complete. And 
 beyond on one side was the bay, with the water 
 looking blue and pretty in the forenoon sunshine. 
 And on t other side was the mile and a half strip 
 we d just sailed across, with the beach and main 
 land over yonder. Not a soul but us in sight any 
 wheres. The whole lay-out would have made a 
 first-rate photograph of the last place the Lord 
 made; the one He forgot to finish. 
 
 "Look at it!" hollers Van. "Look at it! 
 Now what is it? " 
 
 I begun to be sorry the keeper hadn t arrived 
 that time when I thought he was coming. I caP-
 
 ioo MR. PRATT 
 
 lated he was needed right now. Martin seemed 
 to think so, too. He looked puzzled. 
 
 "What is it?" he says. "What s what? 
 What do you mean? " 
 
 " Why this whole business. Island and house 
 and scenery and quiet and all. You old block 
 head ! " hollers Van, giving the other Twin an 
 everlasting bang on the back; " Don t you see? 
 It s what we ve been looking for all these weeks 
 it s the pure, unadulterated, accept-no-imitations 
 Natural Life! " 
 
 I set down in the sand. Things were coming 
 too fast for me. If this kept on I d be counting 
 my fingers and playing cat s cradle along with the 
 rest of the loons pretty soon. I knew it. 
 
 But, would you believe it, Martin Hartley didn t 
 seem to think his chum was out of his mind. He 
 fetched a long breath. 
 
 " By Jove! " he says, slow; " I don t know but 
 you re right." 
 
 " Right? You bet I m right! It s been grow 
 ing on me ever since I landed. We ll be alone; 
 no females, native or imported, to bother us. 
 Here s a bully old house with some furniture, bed 
 steads and so on, already in it. I broke a window 
 and climbed in for a rummage. Jolliest old ark
 
 OZONE ISLAND 101 
 
 you ever saw. Here s a veranda to sit on, and air 
 to breathe, and a barn for a cow, and plenty of 
 room for a garden and chickens whew! Man 
 alive, it s Paradise! And I want to locate the 
 man that owns It. I want to find him quick" 
 
 He didn t have to say it but once. Nate Scud- 
 der was so full of joy that he had to shove his 
 hands in his pockets to keep from hugging himself. 
 
 " 7 own it," he says. 
 
 " You do! Scudder, you re a gem. I begin 
 to love you like a brother. Martin and I hire this 
 place; do you understand? It s ours from this 
 minute, for as long as we want it." 
 
 Nate commenced to hem and haw. " Well, I 
 don t know," he says. " I don t know s I ought 
 to let you have it. There s been considerable 
 many folks after it, and " 
 
 " Never mind. They can t have it. We out 
 bid em. See?" 
 
 " What will we do for groceries? " asks Hart 
 ley considering. 
 
 " Scudder 11 bring em to us," says Van. 
 "Won t you, Scudder?" 
 
 "Well, I don t know, Mr. Van Brunt. I m 
 pretty busy now, and " 
 
 " We ll pay you for your time, of course."
 
 102 MR. PRATT 
 
 " What about beds and cooking utensils and 
 so on? " asks Hartley, considering some more. 
 
 " Scudder ll buy em for us somewheres." 
 
 " And milk, and eggs, and butter? " 
 
 " Scudder till we get our own chickens and cow." 
 
 "And er well, a cook? Who ll do the 
 cooking? " 
 
 Van Brunt stoops down and slaps me on the 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Pratt," says he. " Pratt will come here and 
 cook for us, and navigate us, and be our general 
 manager. Pratt s the boy! " 
 
 " Hold on there! " I sings out. " Avast heav 
 ing, will you. If you think for one minute that 
 I m going to quit my summer job to come to this 
 hole and live, you re " 
 
 " You re coming," says Van. " Never mind 
 the price; we ll pay it. Now shut up! you re 
 coming." 
 
 What can you say to a chap like that? I 
 groaned. 
 
 " Live on Horsefoot Bar," I says. "Live on 
 it!" 
 
 "Horsefoot Bar?" says Van. "Is that its 
 name? Well, it s Horsefoot Bar no more. I ve 
 been evolving a name ever since I began to
 
 OZONE ISLAND 103 
 
 breathe here. Breathe, Martin," he says. " Draw 
 a good breath. That s it. That s pure ozone. 
 Gentlemen, permit me to introduce to you, Ozone 
 Island." 
 
 Scudder grinned. He was feeling ready to grim 
 at most anything just then. 
 
 "Ozone Island?" says Hartley. "Ozone 
 Island. A restful name. Well, it s a restful 
 spot. Isn t it, skipper? " 
 
 " Yes," says I. " As restful as being buried 
 alive; and pretty nigh as pleasant."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY 
 
 AD so that s how they begun to live the 
 Natural Life, what Van called the " ac- 
 cept-no-imitations " kind. I say " they " 
 but I ought to have said " we " for I was in it. I 
 was in it over head and hands from that time on. 
 I didn t mean to be. When I said I wouldn t emi 
 grate to Horsefoot Ozone and be cook and gen 
 eral roustabout for the Heavenly Twins I was just 
 as certain I meant what I said as a body could be. 
 " No," says I. 
 " Yes," says Van. 
 
 "How can I leave the Old Home folks?" I 
 says. 
 
 " How can you leave us? " he says. 
 " But you ve got James." 
 4 Yes, but James hasn t got us." 
 ** But I can t afford to come," says I. 
 " You can t afford to do anything else," says he. 
 And that s about what it amounted to I 
 104
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY 105 
 
 couldn t afford to do nothing else. The wages 
 kept jumping like summer folks bids at one of 
 them auction sales of " antiques." I seemed to 
 be as valuable as grandmother s busted hair cloth 
 sofa. If I d hung out long enough I cal late the 
 Heavenlies would have fixed me so I d have begun 
 to feel twas a crime to die rich. 7 give in first; I 
 want everybody to understand that. 
 
 "All right," says I. "That ll do; I ll come. 
 But I hope you ll pay me in a dark room. I ll be 
 ashamed to look you in the face and take that 
 much money." 
 
 They said they was satisfied if I was. I was 
 satisfied, all but my conscience. Made me wish 
 I could swop consciences with Scudder. 
 
 Nate s conscience wasn t worrying him any; you 
 can bet on that. I wa n t around when he made 
 the deal for renting em the island, but, from what 
 I heard afterwards, the price would have been 
 high if he d been selling it to em by the pound 
 to scour knives with. He agreed to get bedding 
 for em and tin things, and a pig, and crockery, 
 and hens, and groceries, and boards to tinker up 
 the barn with, and anything else that might come 
 in handy. Likewise he was to fetch and carry 
 for em between the village and the island; so
 
 106 MR. PRATT 
 
 much to fetch and twice that to carry. And 
 Huldy Ann was to do the washing. 
 
 When the Twins told me about it you d think 
 they d just pulled through one of them stock 
 " deals " of theirs, and come out on top. 
 
 " Isn t it great? " crows Van, happy as a clam 
 at high water. " We ve arranged it all. Every 
 thing is provided for and will be done." 
 
 I could see two things that was going to be done 
 brown; but I didn t say nothing. 
 
 " It s mighty good of Scudder to accommodate 
 us this way," says Hartley. " He s a gem, a 
 rough diamond." 
 
 " Scudder," says Van, " is one of Nature s 
 noblemen." 
 
 Of course twa n t none of my funeral; I 
 couldn t interfere. But I m a democrat myself, 
 so the nobility don t appeal to me much, and if 
 Nate Scudder s a diamond I m glad I can t afford 
 jewelry. 
 
 The next day was a busy one for all hands, each 
 in his own particular line. Nate commenced run 
 ning " accommodation " trains, so to speak, be 
 tween his house and the village and Horsefoot 
 Bar Ozone Island, I should say. As for me, I 
 went up to the Old Home House right off, ex-
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY ,07 
 
 plained matters to the manager, and cleared out 
 for my new job. The Heavenlies moved over to 
 Ozone that very morning. Lord James went with 
 em and the simple naturalness commenced. 
 
 Fast as Nate would arrive in his dory with a 
 cargo of dunnage I d cart it up to the Berry house 
 and dump It on the piazza. Lord James was fly 
 ing around, with a face on him as sour as a cran 
 berry pie, opening windows and airing rooms and 
 sweeping out, and the like of that. The old she 
 bang had been shut up for a couple of years and 
 was as musty and damp as a receiving tomb. His 
 Lordship looked like the head mourner; this kind 
 of work jarred his dignity. 
 
 " Look a- ere, Pratt," says he to me. " Ow 
 long do you think we re going to stay ere? " 
 
 "Where?" says I, sliding a trunk and a coal 
 hod off my shoulders, and mopping my forehead 
 with my shirt-sleeve. 
 
 " Why ere, on this orrible sand cap." 
 
 " You want to be careful," says I, " how you 
 call names. This is Ozone Horsefoot Island, and 
 it s a branch station of Paradise. Didn t you hear 
 the boss say so? " 
 
 " But ow long are we going to stay ere? " he 
 says again.
 
 io8 MR. PRATT 
 
 Well," says I, " when a feller gets to Paradise 
 it s the general idea that he s there for keeps. 
 What are you growling about? Such a nice rest 
 ful spot, too. Don t you like to be restful? " 
 
 He looked at his hands, they was all over blisters 
 from the broom. 
 
 " Restful! " he groans. " Good eavens! " 
 
 " Come, James," says Hartley, loafing around 
 the corner, with his hands in his pockets. " Get a 
 move on. We must have this house in order by 
 to-night." 
 
 The Twins was awful busy, too. They done 
 the heavy superintending. Hartley superintended 
 the house and piazza and Van Brunt bossed the un 
 loading and trucking of the dunnage from the 
 dory. As for me, I was the truck. After the 
 first day was over I could see that all the natural 
 living I d done in my time wa n t the real thing at 
 all. Not a circumstance to it. 
 
 I carted dunnage all the forenoon. Then I 
 cooked dinner and washed dishes. James was 
 going to help me wipe em but Van s clothes had 
 got wet when he was adrift in the Dora Bassett 
 and they had to be pressed. So I wiped and 
 cleaned up and carted more dunnage, including 
 stove pipe and blankets and flour and quilts and
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY 109 
 
 nails and pork and pillows and a rake and sugar, 
 and the land knows what. Then I cooked supper. 
 And how them Paradise tenants did eat! 
 
 " By gad, you know ! " busts out Van Brunt* 
 with his mouth full; " this is what we ve been look- 
 ing for, Martin. This is getting back to nature/* 
 
 Hartley grunted, being too busy with a fried 
 mackerel to talk with comfort. But it was easy 
 to see he was satisfied. 
 
 They went on, bragging about how good it was 
 to cut loose from the fight and worry of the Street, 
 At last, according to Van, they realized that life 
 was worth living. 
 
 " No more speculation for me," he says, joyful. 
 " No more fretting about margins. I don t give 
 a continental if the bottom drops out of the market 
 and carries the sides with it. I hereby solemnly 
 swear for the fifth time never to buy another share 
 of stock." 
 
 Then he reaches after another half -acre slab oC 
 my johnny-cake. 
 
 Lord James was upstairs in the sleeping vaults 
 sorting out bed clothes. The sheets and blanket* 
 and things was more or less mixed up with tfee 
 hardware and groceries. I was out in the kifdmi 
 getting ready a second relay of mackereL
 
 10 
 
 MR. PRATT 
 
 Ening-room door was open, so I could see and hear 
 ^everything. 
 
 " By the way, Martin," says Van, buttering the 
 johnny-cake, " how did Agnes look? Well? " 
 
 " Yes," says Hartley, short. 
 
 " She must have been surprised to see you. 
 Did you tell her we were naturalized citizens, or 
 on the road to it? " 
 
 41 No." 
 
 ""No? Why not? She probably thinks that 
 we re down here organizing another syndicate. 
 For a girl whose mother is of the world worldly, 
 Agnes has developed queer ideas. I suppose I 
 Bought to go over and see her," he went on. 
 * You said she had another girl with her. Who 
 3s it? " 
 
 " Margaret Talford." 
 
 "Talford Talford? One of the Newport 
 Talfords? Oh, I know. Pretty little girl, dark 
 Siair and brown eyes, and and a way with her? " 
 
 " I guess so. Very likely. I haven t seen 
 
 Van seemed to be thinking. " I ll go over to- 
 anorrow," he says. 
 
 Then he commenced to whoop for more mack 
 erel and twas time for me to load up the platter.
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY m 
 
 I thought I d cooked supper enough for six men, 
 but when the Twins got through I had to fry 
 another ration for me and Lord James. Eat ! I 
 never see such sharks in my life. 
 
 When they d finished everything on the table, 
 except the knives and forks and the dishes, the 
 Heavenlies went outside to smoke cigars and prom 
 enade up and down the beach. His Lordship and 
 I set down to have a bite ourselves. 
 
 " Say," says I, " that Page girl is a good looker, 
 ain t she?" 
 
 He was horrified, same as he always was when 
 you mentioned the New York big bugs without 
 getting up and bowing. 
 
 " Miss Page," says he, " is a member of one of 
 our first families." 
 
 "Want to know," says I. " First in what? " 
 
 " First in everything," he says. " Her father 
 was one of our oldest residents." 
 
 "So?" says I. "Oldest inhabitant, hey? I 
 suppose he could remember way back afore the 
 town hall was built, and about the hard winter of 
 38, and how his ma s cousin used to do chores for 
 George Washington." 
 
 I knew pretty well what he meant, but, you see, 
 I liked to stir him up. He was such an innocent
 
 ,,2 MR. PRATT 
 
 critter; always swallowed hook, line and sinker. 
 It done me good to see him stare at me after I 
 said things like this. 
 
 All he said now though was " Orrors ! " 
 
 " How about your boss, this Van Brunt? " says 
 I. " He s another first rater, hey? " 
 
 The Van Brunts was even more " first families " 
 than the Pages, so the valet said. They d been 
 there ever since New York was built. Twas 
 their ancestors that got up the first barn-raising, or 
 words to that effect. 
 
 "And Hartley?" says I. 
 
 That was different. The Hartleys was another 
 breed of cats. Martin s dad was born in Chicago 
 or somewheres outside of New York. He d re 
 pented of it, of course, and tried to live it down, 
 but he never had been quite the big apples on the 
 top layer, like the Van Brunts. He was dead 
 now, old man Hartley was; been dead three or 
 four years. 
 
 " How about ma? " says I. 
 
 She was dead, too; died a year or more ago. 
 Martin was an orphan. 
 
 And then I cal lated it was about time to heave 
 out the question that I d been leading up to all 
 along.
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY 113 
 
 " What made the Page girl cut loose from him 
 and take up with Van? " I says. " She don t look 
 like the kind that would be too hard on a chap just 
 because his dad made the mistake of being born out 
 of township limits." 
 
 Lord James fidgeted some over that. First he 
 said he didn t know. 
 
 " Well," says I, " let s guess then. Guessing s 
 a good Yankee trick and you d ought to have 
 picked it up by this time. You guess first." 
 
 He didn t want to guess, but I kept at him, 
 throwing out all sorts of foolish maybes and per- 
 hapses. Finally he got tired of saying " No." 
 
 " Oh, I don t know," says he. " I eard as ow 
 twas because e was too mercenary. E was an 
 awful chap in the Street after is old man died. E 
 was there night and day. Ardly came ome at 
 all." 
 
 " Humph! " says I. " I d never suspicioned it 
 to look at him. Wa n t he doing well at his job ? " 
 
 Lord James said it wa n t that. Said he was 
 doing mighty well. Folks was calling him a 
 "born financier " and all sorts of names. 
 
 " So? " says I. " Then I don t see that Miss 
 Page had any complaints. Tain t usual for a 
 young woman to kick because her steady company
 
 ii 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 is making too much money. There s something 
 else. Out with it. I ll keep my mouth shut." 
 
 So then he told me a little much as he knew, I 
 guess likely. Seems that he was acquainted with 
 the feller they call the butler sort of a steward, I 
 judged he was over at the Page girl s house. 
 And this butler was sweet on the " maid " the 
 young woman valet who took care of Agnes s duds 
 and spare rigging. And one night this maid hap 
 pened to be in the " conservatory " which I pre 
 sumed likely was the high-toned name for the pre 
 serve closet and Miss Page and Hartley was in 
 the setting room. And Agnes was laying into 
 Martin for staying down town and neglecting her. 
 
 The maid said she could hear only part of the 
 talk, but twas more than average sharp and vin- 
 egarry. Agnes told Martin he was getting more 
 mercenary every day he lived. That all he 
 thought of was the office and making money. She 
 detested a mercenary, hard, money-grasping man. 
 Said money-loving was the worst vice there was, 
 and she thanked God she had none of it, meaning 
 vice, of course she had money enough to sink a 
 ship. 
 
 Then Martin he speaks up proud and short and 
 says he has been working hard and had been trying
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY 115 
 
 to make money. Said he had a good reason for 
 it, and some day he would tell her what it was. 
 She said he could tell her now or hang his May- 
 baskets on somebody else s door or words to 
 that effect. He says " Very well," and she says 
 something else, but the maid didn t hear it because 
 just then old lady Page come in and give her her 
 walking papers for listening. 
 
 " And so," says Lord James, " the engagement 
 was broke off. And a good thing too, I say. 
 Wat s the use of er lowering erself to marry a 
 man whose father got is money in trade? " 
 
 " How did Van s dad get his money? " I asks. 
 
 " By in eritance," says he. " Of course Mr. 
 Edward dabbles in shares, but, Lord love you, 
 only for the fun of it." 
 
 " How was the inheritance come by in the first 
 place? " says I. He didn t know, but I found out 
 afterwards. Grandpa Van Brunt was an alder 
 man. 
 
 The Twins come back into the house then. 
 They come in slapping and jawing. I judged that 
 the mosquitoes was living the Natural Life too. 
 The Heavenlies set down on each side of the fire 
 place I had a wood fire going, just for sociable- 
 ness and smoked and talked.
 
 Ii6 MR. PRATT 
 
 By and by Van rummages out that Natural book 
 and spreads it open. 
 
 " Martin," says he, " hark to the voice of the 
 oracle. Come in here, skipper, and improve your 
 mind." 
 
 But me and his Lordship was improving the 
 dishes just then, and, when that was done, he had 
 beds to make and I had bread to mix and fires to 
 lay and wood to chop and a couple of million other 
 chores to do. The Twins read and talked until 
 they got sleepy, which was about half past nine or 
 so; earlier than usual, but neither of em had rested 
 well the night afore, I guess. Anyhow they went 
 upstairs to turn in and I kept on with my work. 
 Lord James turned in too. He had the back bed 
 room, the one over the kitchen. 
 
 Twas still as still could be. The door and win 
 dows was open and there wa n t a sound except the 
 mosquitoes humming glad and thankful, and the 
 breeze whining in the pines outside and the waves 
 moaning along the bay shore of the island. Once 
 in awhile I d hear his Lordship thrash over in bed 
 and fetch a grunt or a groan in his sleep. He had 
 one of the late Marcellus s cornhusk mattresses 
 and I wouldn t wonder if there was a cob end or 
 two in with the husks. A rake across the back
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY u 7 
 
 from a corn cob ain t the most comforting thing in 
 the world even when a feller is used to it, and 
 Lord James had been brought up tender. 
 
 Pretty soon I went to the back door to throw 
 out some fish-bones and things and then I heard 
 somebody tramping through the sand up to the 
 house. Neighbors are scarcer than snake s finger 
 nails round Horsefoot Ozone and I couldn t think 
 who was coming at this time of night. I ain t a 
 nervous chap, generally speaking, but I remem 
 bered how old Marcellus had died in this very 
 house all sole alone, and the short hairs at the back 
 of my neck begun to bristle up. I cal lated if any 
 thing would fetch a sot old codger like Marcellus 
 out of his grave, the doings of the Heavenlies was 
 that thing. 
 
 But in a minute more the walker got into the 
 light from the door and I could see him. And I 
 was most as much surprised as if he had been 
 Marcellus himself. Twas Nate Scudder, with his 
 arms full of bundles. 
 
 What in the nation? " says I. 
 " Hello, Sol," says he. " Where s the folks? " 
 " Turned in," says I. " What s up? " 
 He seemed real disappointed. Set the bundles 
 down on the kitchen table and puffed. That sand
 
 n8 MR. PRATT 
 
 is hard walking, and nobody knows it better than 
 I do. 
 
 "Turned in so early, have they?" he says. 
 " That s too bad. I wanted to see em." 
 
 " Want me to roust em out? " I asks. 
 
 "No, I guess not. But they re nice folks as ever 
 I see and I ve fetched em a few presents." 
 
 I flopped into a chair. I was getting used to 
 surprises, but Nate s giving anybody a present was 
 the biggest wonder yet. I figured that lunacy was 
 catching and we was all going crazy together. 
 
 " Yes," says he. " Me and Huldy Ann s been 
 talking it over. They ve hired this house and 
 and all the rest of it and we want em to like 
 it. Don t want em to get tired and leave, you 
 see." 
 
 I see all right. When the melon s getting ripe 
 that s the time to watch it. 
 
 " Yes," he says. " I like them young feller s 
 well s anybody I ever see and so does Huldy. We 
 got to thinking of em over here in this big house 
 and we wanted em to feel at home; just as if 
 twas home. Now there s nothing like pictures 
 and such on the walls to make a place homey. So 
 Huldy and me has sent em these few things to 
 hang up round."
 
 H9 
 
 He commenced to undo the bundles. 
 
 " Twas Huldy Ann s notion," he went on. 
 " When she bought this place at auction there was 
 the furniture and fixings in it that belonged to 
 Marcellus. Some of em we left here, beds and 
 chairs and the like of that, and some we took over 
 to our house. There was more than we needed 
 and these is some we had in the attic." 
 
 He d got the newspapers and strings off by this 
 time and he spread the presents out on the floor. 
 There was a wax wreath, from old Mrs. Berry s 
 funeral, in a round case ; and a crayon enlargement 
 of a daguerreotype of Marcellus when he was 
 thirty or so; he had a fancy vest on and a choker 
 and a fringed-end necktie, and looked like he was 
 freezing to death fast and knew it. Likewise 
 there was a shell work basket in a shell frame with 
 about a third of the shells missing; and two silver 
 coffin plates on black velvet; and a worsted motto 
 thing with " What is Home Without a Mother " 
 on it. 
 
 There ! " says Nate, Happy and generous. 
 " We ll give em them things, Huldy and me. 
 Leastways they can have em to look at while 
 they re here. Have em strung around on the set 
 ting-room walls and it kind of takes off the bare
 
 120 MR. PRATT 
 
 look. Gives em something to think about too, 
 don t it?" 
 
 "Yes," says I; "I should think twould. I 
 wouldn t think of much else, seems to me." 
 
 "Yes," says he. "Well, I hoped they could 
 have em to-night afore they went to bed. But 
 you explain about em in the morning. Tell em 
 they re from me and Huldy. I ll be around after 
 breakfast anyhow to fetch some more things from 
 the store and see if there ain t something else I can 
 do. Good night." 
 
 " Good night," says I, absent-minded. / 
 couldn t get my mind off them coffin plates. 
 
 He kind of hesitated. 
 
 " Oh say," he says. " Did you eat all of them 
 mackerel you had? If you didn t, and they re 
 likely to spoil, why, I ll take a couple along home 
 with me. Huldy s dreadful fond of mackerel." 
 
 " There ain t but one left," says I, " and " 
 
 " Oh well," he says; " one 11 be enough for us. 
 We re awful small eaters." 
 
 So I trotted out the mackerel and he done it up 
 in a piece of the newspaper and went away to his 
 dory. I lugged in the presents and laid em away 
 in the old chest of drawers in the dining room. 
 Felt like an undertaker, too, I did, all the time I
 
 SWEET SIMPLICITY 121 
 
 was doing it. I didn t want the Heavenlies to 
 see them relics till they d ate a good breakfast 
 they was too much for an empty stomach. Then I 
 locked up and took the lamp and went to my room. 
 
 After I got undressed I opened the window and 
 leaned on the sill and thought. I thought about 
 my new job and what I could see was coming to 
 me in the way of work, and about Lord James and 
 Nate and all. And then I thought of Hartley 
 and that Page girl. Martin didn t act to me like 
 a monry-grabber. I couldn t understand it. One 
 thing I was sure of, them two was meant for each 
 other and it seemed to me that they still liked each 
 other. But there was Van Brunt I liked him 
 too. 
 
 Just then a thundering great greenhead bit me 
 on the back of the neck and I slammed down the 
 sash and turned in on my bale of corncobs. Tired ! 
 don t talk!
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS 
 
 I WAS up the next morning about five and 
 pitched in making biscuit and lugging water 
 and so on. Lord James comes poking down 
 after a while. He looked pretty well used up. 
 
 " See ere, Pratt," says he. " Wat they got 
 in them blooming beds bricks ? " 
 
 "Why?" says I. "Was yours hard?" 
 
 Ard? Upon me word I m all full of oles, 
 like a grater. My back is that sore you wouldn t 
 believe it. And w at makes em so noisy? " 
 
 " That s the husks," says I. " They do rustle 
 when a feller ain t used to em." 
 
 " Rustle ! When I d go to roll over, upon me 
 word the sounds was orrifying. Like the water 
 washing around that boat of yours, it was. I 
 dreamed about being adrift in that awful boat all 
 night. About that and ghosts." 
 
 "Ghosts, hey? Did you dream of ghosts?" 
 
 " That I did. I could ear em groaning."
 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS 123 
 
 Twas yourself that was groaning," says I. 
 " A feller that took aboard the cargo of supper 
 that you did hadn t ought to sleep on cornhusks." 
 
 " I didn t sleep ; not a ealthy Christian sleep, 
 I didn t. I say, Pratt, did you ever ear that this 
 old ouse was aunted? " 
 
 " Well," says I, " I don t know as I ever heard 
 that exactly. But old Mrs. Berry died in it and 
 then Marcellus lived here alone till he died. 
 Seems to me he died in that room of yours, come 
 to think of it," says I, cheering him up. 
 
 He turned pale, instead of the yellow he d been 
 lately. 
 
 " Oly Moses!" says he. "You can t mean 
 it." 
 
 " I can mean more than that without half try 
 ing," I says. " Yes, I remember now. He did 
 die there and they say he died hard. Maybe that 
 was on account of the bed though." 
 
 He was mighty upset. Commenced to tell 
 about a friend of his over in " the old country " 
 who had been butler at a place that was haunted. 
 I asked if his friend had ever seen any of the 
 spooks. 
 
 " No," says he, " e never saw em imself, but 
 it was a tradition in the family. Everybody knew
 
 124 MR. PRATT 
 
 it. It was a white lady, and she used to trip about 
 the ouse and over the lawns nights," he says. 
 
 " White, was she? " says I. " Well, I suppose 
 if she d been black they wouldn t have been able 
 to see her in the night. Never heard of a colored 
 ghost anyway, did you ? " 
 
 " I mean she was all dressed in white," he says, 
 scornful. " And they say twas orrid to see her 
 a-gliding around over the grass." 
 
 " Want to know ! " says I. " Well, if you see 
 old Marcellus gliding around the hummocks out 
 side, call me, will you? I d like to see how he 
 manages to navigate through the sand. That s a 
 job for a strong, healthy man, let alone a dead 
 one." 
 
 I guess he see I didn t take much stock in his 
 ghost yarns, so he quit and went to getting the 
 things on the breakfast table. But he was nervous 
 and broke a dish and sprinkled forks and spoons 
 over the floor like he was sowing em. Pretty 
 soon he had to stop and hustle upstairs, for the 
 Twins was shouting for their duds. For grown 
 men they was the most helpless critters ; His Lord 
 ship was a sort of nurse to em, as you might 
 say. 
 
 After a while he had em dressed and ready and
 
 MR. SCUDDERS PRESENTS 125 
 
 they come down to breakfast. Nate had brought 
 over feather beds for them, so they had slept pretty 
 well. Van Brunt was rigged up special because 
 he was going to Eastwich that forenoon to see 
 his girl. 
 
 I d cooked a whopping big breakfast but twas 
 only just enough. Van was a regular famine 
 breeder and Hartley wa n t far astern of him. 
 The Natural Life was agreeing with both of em 
 fine so far. Martin s cheeks was filling out and 
 him and his chum was sun-burned to brick red. 
 
 After breakfast they went out for their usual 
 promenade. By and by I heard em hailing me 
 from the back of the house. When I reached em 
 they was standing by the barn, with their hands in 
 their pockets, and looking as happy and proud as 
 if they d discovered America. 
 
 " Come here, skipper," says Van. " Do you 
 see this? " 
 
 He was pointing at a kind of flat place in the 
 lee of the pig sties. Twas a sort of small desert, 
 as you might say : a bunch or two of beachgrass in 
 the middle of it and the rest poverty grass and 
 sand. 
 
 " I don t see much," says I. " What do you 
 mean? "
 
 !2 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 " I mean the location," says he. " Here s 
 where we ll have our garden." 
 
 I looked at him to see if he was joking. But 
 it appeared he wa n t. 
 
 "Garden? " says I. 
 
 " Sure," he says. " It s an ideal spot. Sun all 
 day long." 
 
 " You could make a garden here, couldn t you, 
 Sol? " asks Hartley. 
 
 " Maybe I could," says I, " if I dug through to 
 Chiny and hit loam on t other side. Otherwise 
 you couldn t raise nothing in this sand but blisters." 
 
 " Scudder could bring us loam," says Van. 
 " We ve thought of that." 
 
 " Starting a garden in July! " says I. " What 
 do you cal late to raise Christmas trees? " 
 
 " Late vegetables, of course," says Van. 
 " Martin and I intend to stay all through Septem 
 ber. Think of it, Martin; green corn from our 
 own plantation. And cucumbers in the morning, 
 with the dew on em." 
 
 " And tomatters already baked in the sun," I 
 says, disgusted. " You take my advice and buy 
 your green stuff off Scudder." 
 
 But they wouldn t hear of it. Called me a Jer 
 emiah and so on.
 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS 127 
 
 " All right," says I, finally. " Have it your 
 own way. But who s going to work this cucum 
 bers and dew farm? " 
 
 " Why, we are, of course," says Van. " That s 
 part of the game, isn t it, Martin? Nothing so 
 healthful as outdoor work for caged birds like us. 
 Maybe we ll have two gardens, one apiece. Then 
 we ll see who raises the first crop." 
 
 I could see em doing it 1 But there was no use 
 arguing then. I put my trust in Scudder s not 
 being able to fetch the loam. 
 
 Pretty soon Nate heaves in sight in the dory 
 with a cargo of skim milk and store eggs and but 
 ter. Van Brunt and I went down to meet him. 
 Van didn t give him a chance to talk; just as soon 
 as the stuff was put on shore he announces that 
 Scudder must go right back and drive him over 
 to Eastwich. Nate backed and filled, as usual, 
 telling how busy he was, and how he hadn t ought 
 to leave, and so on. But Van corks him right up 
 with a five-dollar bill and off they went. 
 
 I lugged the milk and butter and the rest of the 
 truck up to the house and started in on another 
 stretch of work. I d had a vacation of ten min 
 utes or so ; now twas time to begin again. After 
 I d cleared up round the kitchen and the like of
 
 128 MR. PRATT 
 
 that, I went off down to the Dora Bassett and 
 tackled her. Van Brunt had cut away about 
 everything but the mast, and I had to rig new hal 
 liards and sheets and downhauls and land knows 
 what. Drat that Heavenly! twas a two days 
 job. 
 
 While I was making a start on it Hartley comes 
 loafing down from the house. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, " let s have another one of 
 your chowders for lunch, will you? They re the 
 real thing." 
 
 " Well, I tell you, Mr. Hartley," says I, " if 
 We have chowder I d ought to go and dig the clams 
 right now, on account of the tide. And, honest, 
 I hate to leave this work I m on. Still, of course, 
 if you say so, why " 
 
 "What s the matter with my digging em?" 
 he says. 
 
 I grinned. " Why, nothing," I says, " so far 
 as I know, except that it s something of a 
 job." 
 
 "Job!" he says. "It ll be fun. Tell roe 
 where to go and what to dig em with, and 
 and how to do it." 
 
 I told him to take the skiff and a clam hoe and 
 a couple of buckets and row across to the main-
 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS 129 
 
 land. There was clams all alongshore there, I 
 knew. 
 
 " You go along till you see a lot of little holes 
 in the sand," I says, " then you dig. Want to 
 look out that they ain t sand-worm holes, nor razor 
 fish. And when you begin to dig," I says, " you 
 want to lay right into it, cause the clams are likely 
 to be run-downs and they get under fast. 
 So " 
 
 " Hold on a minute," says he. " How am I 
 going to tell a worm-hole from a clam-hole, or a 
 clam-hole from a- what was it? barber fish 
 hole?" 
 
 " Razor fish," says I. " Not barber. Well, 
 I don t know how to tell you, exactly. If it s a 
 sand-worm there s likely to be a little tiny hole 
 alongside the regular one; that is, there is some 
 times and sometimes there ain t. And if it s razor 
 fish well, / can tell em, but I cal late you ll have 
 to use your own judgment." 
 
 He said all right, he guessed he d get along. 
 So off he went, and pretty soon him and Lord 
 James comes down and gets aboard the skiff. His 
 Lordship was loaded with no less than four 
 buckets, besides a clam hoe and the garden hoe 
 and the stove shovel. Twas the most imposing;
 
 i 3 o MR. PRATT 
 
 clam hunt outfit ever I see. If I d been a clam 
 and see that battery coming my way I d have took 
 to tall timber. 
 
 "Sure you ve got hoes and buckets enough?" 
 I asks, sarcastic. 
 
 " I guess so," says he, looking around at the 
 weapons. " We might need another pail perhaps, 
 but if we do I ll send James after it." 
 
 His Lordship started rowing, taking strokes 
 first with one hand and then with the other, and 
 the fleet got under way and waltzed, as you might 
 say, zigzag across to the main. Twas as calm as 
 a millpond and they hit land up towards the point 
 by the Neck Road. Then the clam slaughterers 
 got out and disappeared round behind the point. 
 I went on with my rigging. 
 
 It got to be eleven o clock and no signs of em. 
 Then twelve; lunch time. Tide was coming in 
 fast, you couldn t have got a clam now without a 
 diving outfit. But still all quiet on the Potomac. 
 I went up to the house and commenced to slice ham 
 and fry potatoes. I had my doubts about that 
 chowder. 
 
 Everything was ready by and by and I stepped 
 to the door to take an observation. And then I 
 see em coming, rowing more crab fashion than
 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS i 3> 
 
 ever. I walked down to the inlet to meet em. 
 And such sights as they was. Blessed if they 
 didn t look like they d been through the war 
 Lord James especial. 
 
 " Hi, Sol! " sings out Hartley, as the skiff floats 
 in, broadside on. " My! but I m glad to see you. 
 Give James a lift with the clams and things, will 
 you? I m done up." 
 
 He looked it. He was barefoot and bare- 
 armed, with his trousers rolled up above his knees 
 and his shirt sleeves above his elbows. And the 
 valet was the same, and both of em soaking wet 
 and just plastered with wet sand and clay. 
 
 I give one glance at them bare legs and arms. 
 
 " For the land sakes ! " I sings out. " Pull 
 down your pants and your sleeves. You re burned 
 to a blister already." 
 
 And so they was. Tender white skins like 
 theirs, wet with salt water and out in that sun ! 
 
 They pulled em down looking like they didn t 
 know what for, and come hopping and groaning 
 ashore. His Lordship s back was so lame from 
 bending over that he couldn t hardly straighten up 
 without howling. 
 
 " Did you need the extra bucket? " I asks. 
 
 " Why no, I believe not," says Hartley. " You
 
 j 3 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 see I dug for a while and then I went to look for 
 better places, and James did the digging. We 
 found holes enough, but they didn t seem to be 
 the right kind. Worms, did you call those things? 
 Sea serpents, you meant, I guess. I never saw 
 such creatures. And there was one place where 
 there were millions of holes, but chockful of 
 crabs." 
 
 " Um-hum," says I. " Fiddlers. You must 
 have gone plumb up into the march bank to run 
 into them." 
 
 " They was orrid things," says Lord James, 
 rolling his eyes. " And they ad claws and 
 swarmed over my feet. I give you me word I 
 was that " 
 
 " That ll do, James," says Hartley. " Well, I 
 was successful at last, skipper. Struck a place 
 where clams were actually in layers just under the 
 sand. We turned em over with the hoes like 
 winking. I pointed em out and James picked em 
 up. Just look at those buckets, will you?" 
 
 I looked at em. There was three buckets 
 chock, brimming full. 
 
 " Good land of love ! " says I. " Them ain t 
 clams they re quahaugs." 
 
 " They re clams in New York," he says.
 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS 133 
 
 " Maybe so," says I. " We call em quahaugs 
 here. And there s no quahaugs in this part of 
 the bay unless they ve been bedded. Was there 
 any marks around em? " 
 
 " There was a lot of sticks stuck up around," 
 he says, " but we knocked those out of the way." 
 
 " You did? " says I. " Did you leave any of 
 the what you call clams? " 
 
 " You bet we didn t, says he. " We took the 
 last one. Had too much trouble finding em to 
 leave any." 
 
 "Humph!" says I. "That s nice. You ve 
 cleaned out somebody s private quahaug bed. 
 Them quahaugs was all brought over by somebody 
 and planted where you found em. The sticks was 
 to mark the place." 
 
 " You don t mean it? " he says. 
 
 " Yes, I do," says I. " I cal late we ll hear 
 from them quahaugs afore long." 
 
 And sure enough we did, but that comes later. 
 
 On the way up to the house I turns to his Lord 
 ship, who was limping barefoot over the beach- 
 grass stubbles, and says I : 
 
 "Ain t clamming fun?" I says. 
 
 " My word! " says he, but it expressed his feel 
 ings all right.
 
 i 3 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 All the afternoon the clam hunters kept getting 
 lamer and lamer and sorer and sorer. Their sun 
 burnt legs and arms was hurting em scandalous. 
 Hartley flopped into a piazza chair and stayed 
 there, and Lord James crept around with his limbs 
 spread out like windmill sails. And every time 
 he d bump into a chair or anything you could hear 
 him whoop to glory. 
 
 Van Brunt got home about supper time. Scud- 
 der rowed him over. I had the quahaug chowder 
 made and he ate enough for all hands. Hartley 
 was feeling too used up to relish it much, and his 
 Lordship didn t eat nothing. I let him off on the 
 dish washing and he went off to the tail end of the 
 veranda and went to sleep in a chair. 
 
 After supper Van told about his trip to East- 
 wich. Agnes and the Talford girl was well, he 
 said, and they and their Fresh Air tribe was com 
 ing to the Island next day for a picnic. 
 
 "By the way, skipper," says Van; " Scudder 
 says he brought some presents for us last night 
 after we went to bed. Where are they? " 
 
 Thunderation ! I d forgot all about them 
 " presents." I d felt like an undertaker when I 
 laid em away in that drawer, and now I felt like 
 a grave robber as I dug em up again. I spread
 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS 135 
 
 em out on the table, coffin plates in the middle 
 and wreath on one end and " What is Home With 
 out a Mother " on t other. 
 
 You d ought to have heard them Heavenlies 
 laugh! Nate s presents certainly made a hit. 
 Van he just laid back and roared. 
 
 "Oh, by Jove!" he says, panting. "This is 
 too good! This is lovely. Shades of Hannah 
 Jane Purvis ! Martin, how the widow of the man 
 that didn t feel like beans would have appreciated 
 these, hey? This this would have been her idea 
 of an art gallery." 
 
 " Pack em away again, Sol," says Hartley. 
 "Now that the relatives have had an opportunity 
 to view the remains, the funeral may go on. Bury 
 em quick." 
 
 "Bury em? "says Van. "Not much. They re 
 too dreamily beautiful. Martin, I m surprised at 
 you. What is home without a family vault, any 
 way? And yet Hold on!" he says, holding 
 up his hand. " I have an idea. We ll give them 
 to James." 
 
 "To James?" says me and Martin together. 
 
 " Of course, to James. James is funereal and 
 solemn and dignified. They ought to appeal to his 
 taste. They re right in his line. We will dec-
 
 136 MR. PRATT 
 
 orate~ James room with em. What is it they were 
 warranted to do, skipper, when strung up around? 
 Oh yes! to be sure. Take away the bare look. 
 James room is bare, now that I think of it. Come 
 and join the Memorial Day parade, Martin." 
 
 He was out in the kitchen, getting the hammer 
 and nails and string. Going to decorate the 
 valet s bedroom right off. Hartley laughed and 
 said, " Oh, let the poor devil alone, Van. He s 
 had troubles enough for one day." But you 
 couldn t stop that Van Brunt critter when he got 
 started. 
 
 He makes me load the presents in my arms and 
 takes the lamp and leads the way upstairs. And 
 then he sets to work and hangs them presents 
 round Lord James room. He put the coffin plates 
 over the washstand at the foot of the bed, and the 
 wreath over the head, and hung the picture of 
 Marcellus over the looking-glass and the shell 
 work by the closet door. 
 
 " Now," says he, " for the motto the crown 
 ing touch. Where? Where?" 
 
 Finally he hung it on top of the bureau. 
 
 " Perhaps," says he, " its influence may make 
 James more motherly; who knows? " 
 
 Then we went down stairs and he made me
 
 MR. SCUDDER S PRESENTS 137 
 
 promise to say nothing. Then he was for waking 
 his Lordship up and ordering him to bed right 
 then, but his chum wouldn t hear of it. Martin 
 said let the poor fellow have his nap out. He 
 knew how he felt. So Van give in after awhile. 
 
 Pretty soon Hartley got tired of waiting and 
 said he was going to turn in; he was played out, 
 he said. Van wanted to wait longer, but he didn t. 
 He went to bed too. At half-past ten or so my 
 round of chores was done and I sung out to Lord 
 James to wake up and come in because I wanted 
 to lock up. But he wouldn t. 
 
 " Let me alone," he says, pleading. " I m 
 appy for the first time in ours. I ll lock up, my 
 self, by and by," he says. So I left him out on 
 the piazza and went aloft and turned in. And it 
 didn t take me long to get to sleep, I tell you. 
 
 What woke me up was a howl like an engyne 
 tooting. I bounced out of bed like I had springs 
 under me, instead of corncobs and ropes. 
 
 Then comes another screech. Then a smashity 
 bang SMASH ! Then more yells, and feet 
 going down the hall and falling down stairs. Then 
 a door banging and sounds like all the furniture 
 on the island was being upset. 
 
 I lit a lamp and got out into the hall. There I
 
 i 3 8 MR. PRATT, 
 
 met the Heavenly Twins just coming from their 
 room. They was dressed light and gauzy, same 
 as me, but Van had a revolver in his hand and 
 Hartley was swinging a chair by the back. 
 
 " What on earth? " says Van. 
 
 " It s in the dining rcOm, whatever it is," says I. 
 
 I grabbed up something to use for a club it 
 turned out later to be the littlest joint of Hartley s 
 fish pole and we tip-toed down stairs to the din 
 ing room door. And that door was locked fast.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 THE "FRESH-4IRERS" 
 
 FIRST I tried that door, then Hartley tried 
 it, and then Van ; each of us just as soft and 
 quiet as possible. Then we listened. Not 
 a sound. 
 
 Then Van catches me by the arm and begins to 
 pull me and Martin back along the hall. When 
 we got to the end, by the parlor door, he whispers, 
 low and cautious: 
 
 "We must break the door down. It s locked on 
 the inside. Sol, you put that lamp on the stairs. 
 Better turn it down, too. A light gives the other 
 man all the advantage if it comes to shooting. 
 Now ready, when I say the word. All rush to 
 gether. One two " 
 
 " Wait a minute," whispers Hartley he was 
 always cool-headed. "Where s James?" 
 
 " James ? " repeats Van. " What ? James ? " 
 
 " James? " says I. And then I begun to get my 
 senses back. Wake a feller up out of a sound
 
 i 4 o MR. PRATT 
 
 sleep the way we was and it takes a few minutes 
 for him to get on earth again. 
 
 " James ! " says I. "I ll bet " 
 
 " Idiot ! " says Van, speaking about himself I 
 judge. Then he walks down the hall and gives 
 that door a kick. 
 
 " James," he sings out. " Is that you? Open 
 this door." 
 
 For a second or two there wa n t a sound. Then 
 a voice says, weak and chattery, " O-o-h, my 
 soul!" 
 
 "What s the matter with him?" says Van. 
 " Is he hurt? Where s the key, skipper? Inside, 
 of course. But but where s the key-hole? " 
 
 Then I remembered. " There ain t any key 
 hole," I says. " There s no lock on the door." 
 
 " Then what ? Come on, Martin." 
 
 He set his shoulder to the door and commenced 
 to shove. Me and Hartley helped, and the door 
 begun to open. It opened slow, because the din 
 ing table and two or three chairs and the chest 
 of drawers was braced against it. We got in 
 finally. 
 
 " Bring the lamp," says Hartley. I done it. 
 The room was empty. 
 
 " James ! " hollers Van. " James ! "
 
 THE "FRESH-4IRERS" 141 
 
 The closet door opens just a crack. Then 
 it swung wide and his Lordship, half dressed 
 and white as an old clamshell, staggers into the 
 room. 
 
 " Oh ! " says he. " Oh, Mr. Van Brunt, sir ! " 
 
 He was shaking like a palsy. 
 
 " What ails you, man? " says Hartley. " Speak 
 up." 
 
 The valet rolls his eyes around to me. 
 
 " I seen it," he says. " I seen it plain. It s 
 im!" 
 
 "Him? Who?" says I. 
 
 " The ghost. The old cove as owned this 
 ouse. E was up in my room a-waiting for 
 me." 
 
 " What are you talking about? " asks Van, im 
 patient. I begun to see light, but the Heavenlies 
 didn t not yet. 
 
 " E was up in my room, sir," said Lord James, 
 wild-like. " I ad me coat and waistcoat off, sir, 
 and then I goes over to the mirror intending to see 
 if me face looked as ot as it felt. And I lights 
 my lamp and there e was a-glaring at me. E 
 ad is ead through the mirror, sir. And there 
 was coffins around, and wreaths. It s a warning 
 to me, sir. I m a dead man."
 
 ,42 MR. PRATT 
 
 And then we began to laugh. 
 
 "The presents!" says Van, between roars. 
 " Scudder s heirlooms. Ho ! ho ! " 
 
 His Lordship stared at us like he thought we 
 was crazy. I more than half pitied him. Martin 
 did too, I guess, for he says: 
 
 " It s all right, James. Just one of Mr. Van 
 Brunt s jokes. You see " 
 
 " But I saw im, sir. E was there, and there 
 was wreaths and coffins ung about, and " 
 
 "It s all right," says I. "Here ! come along and 
 I ll show you." 
 
 But not one step would he stir. A derrick 
 wouldn t have lifted him up them stairs. So I 
 quit trying and went aloft and fetched down the 
 crayon enlargement and the wreath. Then I set 
 out to explain. 
 
 " Why, you imbecile ! " says Van. " Where s 
 your taste for art? We were beautifying your 
 room. Taking off the bare look, as per Scudder." 
 
 James color begun to come back. And when 
 it come it come thick. He reddened up so you 
 could see it even through the sun-burn. 
 
 " Mr. Van Brunt," he says, getting madder 
 every minute, "I give you notice. I leave to 
 morrow morning."
 
 THE "FRESH-AIRERS" 143 
 
 " Don t be an idiot " begins Van, but his 
 Lordship cut him short. 
 
 " I leave to-morrow morning," he shouts. 
 " Ain t it enough to bring me to this Gawd- for 
 saken ole and work me alf to death and blister 
 me from ead to foot, without this? I give you 
 warning now. I m going ome. And you be 
 glad I ain t aving the law on you for this out 
 rage. Us poor servants as rights, and " 
 
 There was more, plenty more. We couldn t 
 shut him up. And the Heavenlies explanations 
 didn t count either. He was dead set on leaving 
 in the morning. 
 
 Finally, we give it up and went back to bed. 
 Lord James said he was going to stay in the 
 kitchen all night. Nothing would hire him to 
 sleep in Marcellus receiving tomb again. 
 
 " Humph! " says Hartley, as the Twins went 
 upstairs, " it looks to me as if your joke had lost 
 us the best valet you ever had, Van." 
 
 Van cussed under his breath. "He shan t 
 leave," he said. " I must keep him somehow. 
 He s invaluable in the city, and we may go back 
 there some time. Not for months, though, of 
 course," he adds. 
 
 But in the morning James was worse set than
 
 144 MR. PRATT 
 
 ever. He wouldn t help with breakfast nor noth 
 ing; went aloft at daylight and begun to pack his 
 trunk. He was going to leave, that s all there 
 was about it. 
 
 The Twins was pretty blue during breakfast, 
 Van about losing his Lordship, and Hartley on 
 account of sun-burn, I cal late. Twas another 
 elegant day and there was wind enough to keep 
 the flies and mosquitoes away from the house. If 
 you got in the lee anywheres, though, they was 
 laying for you in droves. They didn t bother me 
 much, count of my hide being tough and leathery 
 and my flavor too salt maybe; but they was fatten 
 ing up fast on the Heavenlies and James. 
 
 About ten o clock Scudder shows up with 
 the first dory-load of Fresh Airers from the East- 
 wich place. Miss Agnes come along with em. 
 Then the second load come, cap ned by the Tal- 
 ford girl. And then there was doings. 
 
 Them Fresh Air young ones wa n t all of a piece 
 with Redny, which was a mercy. He was a hand 
 ful in himself, that little sorrel-top was but there 
 was enough like him to keep things stirred up. 
 Marcellus old shingled prison had to take it that 
 day. There must have been some stewing in 
 Heaven if old Lady Berry could look down and see
 
 THE "FRESH-AIRERS" I45 
 
 them youngsters whooping and carrying-on in the 
 front parlor. In Mrs. B s day that parlor was a 
 kind of saint s rest, as you might say, and the only 
 time anybody opened its door was when she sailed 
 in with the broom and feather duster. And then 
 she must have had to navigate by compass, because 
 the blinds was always shut tight and the curtains 
 drawn and twas too dark to see anything. 
 
 Hartley looked out for the children and Van 
 Brunt piloted the two girls over the place, point 
 ing out where the garden was going to be some 
 day, and where the hens was likely to roost and 
 the pig to board. They seemed to be as pleased 
 and tickled as he was and thought everything was 
 " lovely " and " just too quaint and dear." I 
 was busy cooking and Lord James sulked out in 
 the barn. He couldn t get away until late after 
 noon on account of the train. 
 
 Redny stuck to Hartley like a mud-turtle to a 
 big toe. He was right at his heels all the time. 
 By and by the pair of em come out in the kitchen 
 to see me. 
 
 " Hello, Andrew Jackson," says I to the boy. 
 " How do you like this part of the country? " 
 
 " Great ! " says he, his eyes snapping. " Gee, 
 ain t we having the peach of a time 1 "
 
 M 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Must feed you well over there," I says. 
 " Seems to me you re getting fat already. Board s 
 up to the mark of the Newsboys Home, ain t it? " 
 
 " Bet you I " says he. " Chicken, and pie, and 
 all the milk you want. And cream aw say! " 
 and he smacked his lips. 
 
 " How d you like to live here all the time? " 
 
 He shook his head. " Naw," he says. " Too 
 still. Sometimes I can t sleep good cause it s so 
 still. No El, nor whistles nor fights nor nothing. 
 And no Chinks to chuck rocks at. Miss Agony 
 won t let you chuck rocks at folks anyhow." 
 
 " Don t you wish you was back to New York 
 with your dad? " I says. 
 
 " Not much," he says. " The old man used to 
 jclub me too good. When he was full I d get a 
 belting most every day." 
 
 I looked at Hartley and he at me. Poor little 
 shaver! It s when I see how some folks treat 
 children that I get to thinking I could make a bet 
 ter world than this is. 
 
 "Going to run away again?" I asks, after a 
 minute. 
 
 " Naw," says Redny. " Not while I m down 
 here. Miss Agony cries over me and I d rather 
 be licked any time than that."
 
 THE " FRESH-HIRERS" 147 
 
 Hartley rumpled the youngster s hair with his 
 fingers. 
 
 " Sol," he says, " there s good here if you can 
 get at it. Too much good to be running to waste. 
 Ah hum! Must be rather pleasant to have one 
 or two of your own; must make life almost 
 worth living. That s where you and I have 
 missed it." 
 
 " You ve got plenty of time yet," says L 
 " Maybe you ll be down in these diggings nine or 
 ten year from now with a family of your own." 
 
 He smiled, kind of sad and one-sided. Then he 
 got up and walked out to the piazza. Redny 
 hung around a spell, long enough to ask a couple 
 million questions. Then he went into the parlor 
 with the rest of the young Injuns. 
 
 Pretty soon I heard some one speak. I looked 
 through the door way and see the Page girl com 
 ing up the porch steps alone. Hartley stood up 
 and lifted his cap. 
 
 "Where s Van?" he asked. 
 
 " He s down on the beach with Margaret. 1 
 came back to look after the children." 
 
 " They re all right," says Martin. " Playing 
 games in the front room." 
 
 Agnes stopped for a second in the doorway.
 
 148 MR. PRATT 
 
 " I don t just understand," she said, hesitating, 
 * why you are here. Is it true that your health 
 is bad?" 
 
 " No," he said, with a little laugh. " I did feel 
 rather gone to seed before I left town, but now I m 
 having the time of my life." 
 
 "Indeed?" says she. "So far from Wall 
 Street? I m surprised." 
 
 He didn t seem to answer leastways I didn t 
 hear him. Next thing I knew he was standing on 
 the top step. 
 
 " Please excuse me," he says, pretty frosty. " I 
 ^iust speak to James." 
 
 He went off down the steps and out of sight. 
 She stood and watched him a minute, and I 
 thought she looked puzzled and solemn. Then 
 the went into the parlor. 
 
 We had dinner out doors on the piazza. While 
 it was going on the grown-ups didn t do much talk 
 ing. It s precious little fun trying to talk against 
 a typhoon and an earthquake mixed, and that s 
 what them Fresh Air young ones turned that 
 meal into. Twas " Hurrah boys ! Stand from 
 under! " from the beginning. When I wa n t fill 
 ing up fish plates I was dodging potato skins and 
 similar bouquets. They didn t fire em at me, you
 
 THE " FRESH-HIRERS" 149 
 
 understand, but it s always the feller that s looking 
 on at the row who gets hit. Redny was cap n of 
 the gun crew. He could chuck a potato skin with 
 his left hand and eat with his right and look pious 
 and shocked, all at the same time. 
 
 When the Juniors was filled up and it wa n t 
 no slouch of a job to get em filled they went off 
 to start a riot somewheres else, and the Twins and 
 the girls had a chance. Van got to telling about 
 Scudder s presents, and he was funny as usual. 
 That Margaret Talford would laugh until I had 
 to join in just out of sympathy, even though I was 
 up to my eyes in soapsuds and dishwashing. She 
 was a jolly girl, that one; pretty and full of snap 
 and go. 
 
 Nothing would do but them " presents " must 
 go on exhibition. So Van lugged em down from 
 James room and lined em up on the piazza for 
 inspection. He took a stick for a pointer and give 
 a lecture about em, same as if they was a pano 
 rama, pointing out what he called the " feeling " 
 and " atmosphere " of the shell basket and the 
 " perspective " of Marcellus in the crayon enlarge 
 ment. He had a good time and so did everybody 
 else, especially Miss Talford. 
 
 By and by she clapped her hands. " Oh ! " says
 
 i 5 o MR. PRATT 
 
 she, " I ve got an idea. Did you say your man 
 was going to leave you, Mr. Van Brunt? " 
 
 Van heaved a sigh. " Yes," he says. " I be 
 lieve he is. I fear that James hasn t the artistic 
 temperament. I confess I m disappointed. He 
 certainly looked as if he had it; he was sad and 
 soulful and- and dyspeptic. But no; even the 
 * Motherless Home didn t appeal to him. He 
 says he s going to-night." 
 
 " I wonder if he would come over to the 
 school? " says she. " We need a man there/ don t 
 we, Agnes ? To help about the place, and look out 
 for the boys, and to well, to protect us." 
 
 " Lucky James ! " says Van. " But why James ? 
 Won t Martin here do or excuse my blushes 
 myself?" 
 
 But the Talford girl laughed and said he 
 wouldn t do at all. He lacked dignity, she said, 
 and didn t look the part. She asked Miss Page 
 if she really didn t think that James would be just 
 the man for them. Agnes said perhaps he would. 
 So the four of em went away for a walk on the 
 beach and to talk it over. 
 
 I ll bet I called that valet anything but a church 
 member and a good feller a dozen times over while 
 I was diving into them dishes. I washed and
 
 THE " FRESH-HIRERS" 151 
 
 washed till, seemed to me, I was soaked out fresh 
 enough to bile, like a pickled codfish. And when 
 the washing was done there was the wiping. I 
 laid out a bale or so of dish towels and pitched in. 
 
 Pretty soon somebody says, " Mayn t I help? " 
 
 I swung around and there was Agnes Page. 
 Nice to look at, she was, too. 
 
 " Can t I help you, please? " says she, picking 
 up a towel. 
 
 "Land sakes, no!" says I. "You ll sp<vli 
 your fine clothes. Besides I ve got sort of used 
 to it by this time; my arm goes round of itself, 
 like a paddle wheel." 
 
 She laughed and grabbed a chowder plate and 
 commenced to wipe. She done fairly well for 
 anybody who hadn t practiced much, but she never 
 would have won the cup for speed. One dish. 
 every five minutes is all right, maybe, if you re 
 getting paid by the year, but However, I 
 judged her ma kept hired help to home. I won 
 dered what she d done with Hartley. 
 
 By and by she says, " Mr. Pratt, how long do 
 you expect to stay here? " 
 
 " Here? " says I. " On Horsefoot on Ozons 
 Island? Land knows. Long s the Heavenlies 
 that is, long s Mr. Van Brunt and Mr. Hartley
 
 i 5 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 stay here, I guess. It s a restful place, ain t it? " 
 says I, reaching for the next stack of dishes. 
 
 She smiled. " No doubt they find it so," she 
 says. " How do you like the Natural Life ? " 
 
 " Who me? Oh, I cal late I shall like it tip 
 top when I get a little more used to it that is, if 
 I last. I was oldest boy in a family of nine, 
 and dad died young, so I was brought up Natural, 
 as you might say. It s been some time, though, 
 since I had so many hours of stralght-along, pitch- 
 in-and-hustle Naturalness in the day s run; been 
 getting artificial and lazy of late years, I guess. 
 But I m tough, and I ll be all right and used 
 to it pretty soon getting lots of practice. By 
 the way," I says, " who was it that sent em 
 here?" 
 
 " Who? " says she, looking surprised. " Sent? 
 I don t understand." 
 
 " Was Mr. Van Brunt and his chum sent here 
 by the doctor, or who? " 
 
 " Why, I didn t know they were sent at all. I 
 think they came here of their own accord." 
 
 " Humph I " says I, considering. " Was any 
 of their folks ever took this way? Does it run 
 m the families? " 
 
 That seemed to tickle her and I guess she under-
 
 THE "FRESH-HIRERS" i 53 
 
 stood what I meant. But she didn t answer the 
 question; went on dry-polishing the pickle dish. 
 Then says she, kind of accidental on purpose : 
 
 " Is Mr. Hartley s health improving? " 
 
 "Oh yes!" says I. "He s picking up some, 
 specially in his appetite. He ain t up to Van. 
 Brunt in that line yet, though. Van eats for 
 three ; Hartley s only up to the one-man-and-a-boy 
 mark so far. He d do better if he didn t have 
 them blue streaks of his. Seems to have some 
 thing on his mind." 
 
 " Perhaps he s troubled about leaving his busi 
 ness," she suggests, looking sideways at the pickle 
 dish. 
 
 " Guess not," says I, looking sideways at her. 
 " I don t think I ve heard him mention business 
 since he s been down. No, tain t that, according 
 to my notion. He ain t in love, is he? " 
 
 She looked at me then pretty hard; but I was 
 as wooden-faced as a cigar sign. 
 
 " Dear me, no," she laughs, brisk. " I guess 
 not. What made you think that ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing," says I. " I ain t ever been 
 took that way myself, but it seemed to me he had 
 all the symptoms. Didn t know but he was fret 
 ting about some young woman. He s a fine chap,
 
 i 5 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 that young Hartley. It 11 be a lucky girl that gets 
 him." 
 
 She didn t say much more, but she looked at 
 me every once in a while as if she was wondering. 
 I never let on. I was as innocent and easy as the 
 cat with the cream on its whiskers. I had a sneak 
 ing hope that I might have boosted Hartley a little 
 mite, and I felt good down one side. Then I 
 thought of Van, and I felt mean all up the other. 
 
 After a spell the Twins and Miss Talford hap 
 pened along, and what a time Van Brunt made 
 when he see his girl helping me wipe dishes. 
 
 " Well, well! " he says. " Is this the way you 
 hurry back to see what the dear children are 
 doing? Sol, you old fascinator, how do you do 
 it? Martin and I fell in love with him at first 
 sight, Miss Talford; and now look at Agnes." 
 
 " Hold on there," says I. " Don t spread it 
 to thick. I ain t got but one hat that 11 do for 
 Sunday, and I want that to fit me. I was giving 
 Miss Page a few lessons in housekeeping, and 
 you d ought to thank me for that, Mr. Van Brunt." 
 
 It seems the Talford girl had seen James and he 
 had agreed to go to Eastwich with em. Twas a 
 good chance for him, a soft job and all that. 
 Truth to tell, I guess he was kind of sorry about
 
 THE "FRESH-HIRERS" 155 
 
 parting from Van altogether, the gleaning might 
 not be so good in his next boss s berry pas 
 ture. 
 
 So about six o clock Scudder come with his dory 
 and the picnic broke up. The Fresh-Airers were 
 pretty nigh played out by this time. The smaller 
 children was nodding with their heads on the 
 shoulders of the bigger ones, and I even had to 
 tote two of the littlest in my arms down to the 
 beach. But they was all full fed and sun-burned 
 and dirty and happy, and they d had the bulliest 
 time in their poor, pinched-up little lives. 
 
 l< Well, good-by, Andrew Jackson," says I to 
 Redny. " Had good time enough to want to 
 come again, have you?" 
 
 " Sure thing," says he. 
 
 u Like it as well here as you do over at the 
 school?" 
 
 1 Yup," he says. " Ain t nobody to plug 
 potato skins at over there." 
 
 He was a smart little coot. Had the makings 
 of a man in him if you dug down far enough to 
 get at it. 
 
 Lord James comes down to the shore tugging 
 his trunk behind him. 
 
 " So long, Hopper," says I. " Shall I give
 
 156 MR. PRATT, 
 
 your love to Marcellus spook if it comes gliding 
 again? " 
 
 He looked at me very solemn. " You d better 
 come too," he says. You take my advice and 
 leave this blooming island now w ile you ave the 
 chance. There ll come a time," says he, " when 
 you won t ave it." 
 
 He climbed into the dory and set down all 
 huddled up in the stern with his trunk between his 
 knees. Scudder begins rowing and they moved 
 off. 
 
 " There," says Van, referring to his Lordship, 
 " goes the final tie that binds us to a sordid past. 
 Shall we sing The Last Link is Broken, Martin? 
 Or have you something more appropriate to sug 
 gest, skipper? " 
 
 " I have for myself," says I. " It s Work 
 for the Night is Coming. 
 
 And I hurried up to the house to get supper.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE FOYAGE OF THE ARK 
 
 THE Heavenlies was late down to breakfast 
 next morning, owing, I cal late, to the loss 
 of Lord James. I could hear em hailing 
 each other, asking, " What s become of my golf 
 stockings? " and the like of that. Trouble seemed 
 to be that they had too many clothes. If they d 
 been limited to one suit for Sunday and a pair of 
 overalls to cover up the ruins the rest of the week, 
 like I was, they d have got along better. 
 
 But they was rigged at last and at breakfast was 
 chipper as a pair of mackerel gulls. They com 
 menced to talk garden. Consarn em, I hoped 
 they d forgot that. 
 
 " The loam business is all right, Sol," says Van. 
 " Scudder will bring us loam at three dollars a boat 
 load. He says it 11 take about fifteen boat loads." 
 
 "He does, hey?" says I. "At three dollars 
 per? That s generous of him. Anything else? " 
 
 " Yes. He is to continue to bring us rnilk. We 
 157
 
 i 5 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 have decided that perhaps for the present we had 
 better not keep a cow." 
 
 Small favors thankfully received. I was glad 
 that milking wa n t going to be added to the gen 
 eral joy fulness. 
 
 " I think that s a nice far-sighted decision," says 
 I. "Unless you could learn your cow to eat sea 
 weed, I don t see " 
 
 " Oh, Scudder could bring us hay," says Van. 
 " And we could give the animal the spare vege 
 tables from the garden." 
 
 * Twould be a long time between meals for the 
 poor critter, I m afraid," says I. " How much is 
 Nate charging for the milk? " 
 
 " Nine cents a quart. That s only one cent 
 more than you have to pay in New York, and, 
 when you consider how far he has to bring it, 7 
 call it dirt cheap." 
 
 Well, twas about as cheap as the garden dirt, 
 but I didn t say nothing. 
 
 We re going to raise chickens too," says Hart 
 ley. " Scudder, so Van says, will sell us live Ply 
 mouth Rocks at thirty cents a pound. Skipper, you 
 might fix up the poultry yard in your spare time." 
 
 In my spare time. There was a joke in that, 
 but it wa n t so intended.
 
 THE FOYAGE OF THE ARK 159 
 
 Then Van Brunt began to preach Sl pig." 
 Seems Nate had told him that the one thing need 
 ful to turn Ozone Island into a genuine Natural 
 Life heaven was a pig, and of course he, Nate, 
 had the only pig in creation that was worth buy 
 ing. 
 
 " He showed it to me the other morning," says 
 Van. " The prettiest little black and white fel 
 low you ever saw, Martin. Miss Talford saw 
 him yesterday because she came over, and she said 
 he was a dear. You might be repairing a sty for 
 him in your odd moments, Sol." 
 
 My odd moments, and my even ones too, was 
 pretty well filled up for the next few days. The 
 Heavenlies loafed and superintended and smoked 
 and fished and ate. All I had to do was to turn 
 out with the gulls, and cook breakfast, and clear 
 away, and wash dishes, and build hen yards, and 
 fix up a leaky pig pen, and get ready them blessed 
 gardens, and sweep and dust, and dig clams, and 
 make beds, and get dinner, and sail a boat, and 
 chop wood, and bundle up washing for Nate to 
 take to Huldy Ann, and scour knives, and and 
 well, there was plenty more. Seven or eight hun 
 dred odd jobs have slipped my memory. 
 
 The gardens was ready for planting on a
 
 160 MR. PRATT 
 
 Wednesday. Nate fetched over the last dory load 
 of loam the night afore and I spread it afore I got 
 supper. The chickens and the hog was to come 
 on Thursday. I was to take the skiff and go after 
 em, Nate being engaged to cart a carry-all load 
 of boarders to Ostable. Huldy Ann was to have 
 the live stock at the shore ready for me. 
 
 "How s the menagerie coming, Nate?" I 
 asked. " In cages or on the hoof? " 
 
 " Oh, I ll box em for you, Sol," he says. " The 
 hens in one box and the pig in another. The pig s 
 pretty thin I mean young, so he won t be no 
 heft to you." 
 
 Wednesday morning the Heavenly gardening 
 begun. One patch was for Van Brunt and the 
 other for Hartley. They had seeds by the peck, 
 more or less, brought over by Scudder s express 
 and charged for at undertaker s prices. The 
 Twins started in with a vengeance. I showed em 
 how. For once I was superintendent and the job 
 suited me fine nothing would have tickled me 
 more, unless twas to turn in and take a nap. 
 
 Van takes one hoe and Hartley the other. Each 
 of em was actually round-shouldered from the 
 weight of the seeds in their pockets. They had 
 cucumber seeds, and melon seeds, and land knows
 
 THE VOYAGE OF THE ARK 161 
 
 what. Wonder to me was they didn t try oranges 
 and pineapples. And.it the middle of July! 
 
 " Now Martin," says Van. " Here goes I Bet 
 you fifty I get the first cucumber." 
 
 " I ll go you," says Martin, shucking his jacket. 
 " Sol, what do I do next?" 
 
 I showed him. I started em even on cucum 
 ber beds. They hoed like they went by steam. 
 You never see such ambitious farmers in your life 
 as they was just then. 
 
 " Kind of hard work, ain t it? " says I, watch 
 ing their front hair get damp and stick to their 
 foreheads. 
 
 " Work? " says Van. " This is recreation, 
 man ! " 
 
 " All right," I says. " Heave ahead and recre 
 ate. I ve got to work, myself." 
 
 So I went in and swept out the dining room. 
 Once in a while, through the open window, I d 
 get a sight of em laying into the cucumber beds, 
 with the sun blazing down. I grinned. When the 
 boot s been on one leg too long it s kind of nice 
 to see somebody else s corns get pinched. 
 
 When they come into dinner they was just slop 
 ping over with joy. Gardening was more fun 
 than a barrel of monkeys. But I noticed that when
 
 .62 MR. PRATT 
 
 Van got up from the table he riz kind of " steady 
 by jerks " as if he had kinks in his back, and Mar 
 tin moved his shoulders slow and easy and said 
 " Ouch! " under his breath when he reached too 
 far. 
 
 They didn t seem to be in any real hurry to get 
 back to work, either. Stayed on the porch, and 
 smoked two cigars instead of one. I had to 
 chuck out a hint about getting them seeds covered 
 up quick afore they d leave their chairs. Then 
 they went, and I could see the hoes moving; but 
 they moved slower. 
 
 They turned in right after supper, which was 
 unusual. Next morning I didn t hear a word 
 about gardens. The conversation was pretty lim 
 ited and doleful, being separated with grunts and 
 groans, so to speak. When Van Brunt dropped 
 his napkin he hollered to me to come and pick it 
 up, and Hartley fed with his left hand and 
 kept the right in his jacket side pocket. They 
 didn t seem to enjoy that meal half so much as 
 I did. 
 
 " Well," says I, to brighten things up; " I car- 
 late them cucumbers is ready to eat, pretty nigh, 
 by this time. Started on your corn yet? No? 
 Well, you mustn t lose no time. It s late in the
 
 THE VOYAGE OF THE ARK 163 
 
 season now. Come along with me and I ll get you 
 going." 
 
 I headed for the door as I spoke. They looked 
 at each other again. 
 
 " It s pretty cloudy for planting, isn t it? " asks 
 Hartley. " We might be caught in the rain, you 
 know." 
 
 " Rain your granny! " says I. " Them clouds 
 is nothing but heat fog. It ll burn right off." 
 
 " Wait till we finish our cigars, skipper," says 
 Van. 
 
 " No," says I. You can smoke and plant at 
 the same time. Smoke 11 drive away the mos 
 quitoes." 
 
 They got up then and followed me out. The 
 hoes was laying by the beds and I handed em one 
 apiece. They took em, not with what you d call 
 enthusiasm, but more the way the boy took the 
 licking believing twas more blessed to give than 
 to receive. The cucumber beds was begun beauti 
 ful, the first hills rounded up fine and lovely. But 
 the tail end ones looked like the pauper section of 
 the burying ground, more useful than ornamental. 
 I showed em how to riant the corn rnid went 
 away, leaving em leaning on their hoes, with a 
 kind of halo of mosquitoes around their heads.
 
 164 MR. PRATT 
 
 My talk about smoke was more or less sarcastic; 
 the mosquitoes on Horsefoot Ozone was smoke- 
 cured and fire-proof. 
 
 I got the breakfast work done about ten o clock 
 and then twas time to go after the pig and the 
 hens. I took the skiff oars out of the barn and 
 then walked around by the gardens to see how 
 things was getting on. There laid the hoes by the 
 places where the corn-hills was intended to be, but 
 there wa n t any corn-hills nor any Heavenly gar 
 deners either; not a sign of em. I hailed once 
 or twice but didn t get any answer. Then I went 
 on down to the skiff. And there they was, 
 sprawled out in the shade of the pines, as com 
 fortable as you please. 
 
 " Hello, skipper," says Van Brunt, turning over 
 on one elbow. " We ve been waiting for you. 
 We re going with you after the livestock." 
 
 " You are? " says I. " Got your farming done 
 so early? " 
 
 41 No-o," he drawls. " Not precisely. The 
 fact is, Sol, Hartley and I have decided that agri 
 cultural labors are not " 
 
 "Labors?" says I, shoving tke skiff into the 
 water. "Thought twas recreation." 
 
 " For definition see dictionary," he says. " It s
 
 THE VOYAGE OF THE ARK 165 
 
 a painful condition, not a theory, with us, just 
 now. Martin and I are convinced that what we 
 need is a sea voyage. Come on, Martin." 
 
 Hartley got up, pretty average gingerly, and 
 they climbed into the skiff. I pushed off and 
 begun to row. 
 
 ;< Well," I says, after a minute or two, " it ain t 
 for me to suggest anything, but, just for greens 
 like the old woman stewed the burdock leaves I d 
 like to mention that if you want vegetables with 
 the dew, and not icicles on em, you d better be 
 getting the rest of them seeds into the ground. 
 What s the present standing of that cucumber 
 bet?" 
 
 Van didn t open his eyes. " You win it," he 
 says, lazy. 
 
 I stopped rowing and looked at him over my 
 shoulder. 
 
 II Meaning what? " says I. 
 
 " Just that. You win the bet. Likewise yon 
 cultivate the cucumbers. Martin and I, in con 
 vention assembled, have nominated you for Secre 
 tary of Agriculture. We resign." 
 
 I d been expecting it. And I d made up my 
 mind what to say. But I hated to say it. Thinks 
 I, " I ll wait till I get back to Ozone."
 
 1 66 MR. PRATT 
 
 So I didn t answer, but went to rowing again. 
 The tide was going out fast and twas a hard pull, 
 three of us in that little skiff, but by and by we 
 reached the main. And there was Scudder s hired 
 boy waiting for us. 
 
 "Hello," says I. "Where s Huldy Ann 
 Mrs. Scudder, I mean? " 
 
 " She couldn t come," said the boy. " But I 
 fetched the hens and things. Here they be." 
 
 He had the hens a dozen of em jammed into 
 one lath coop. The door of it was fastened with 
 a shaky wood button. 
 
 " Handle em kind of careful," says he. ** That 
 button undoes itself sometimes." 
 
 " Where s the pig? " says Hartley. 
 
 " Here he is." 
 
 We could hear him. He wa n t in a box at all, 
 as he d ought to have been according to contract, 
 but setting in the sand with his hind legs tied 
 together with string. He was whirling in circles 
 with his tail for a pivot, so to speak, and he seemed 
 to be mainly squeal. Little he was, and thin 
 peared to me to be thin as Nate s milk of human 
 kindness but the Heavenlies fell down and wor 
 shipped him like he was a hog angel. 
 
 " Humph! " says I. " Is that the dear ? "
 
 THE FOYAGE OF THE ARK 167 
 
 " That s the dear," says Van, patting him at 
 long distance. 
 
 Well, he weighed four pound and cost six dol 
 lars, so that s dear enough for anybody. 
 
 I loaded the critters into the skiff the pig fairly 
 sung psalms while I was doing it and then the 
 Twins climbed aboard. 
 
 " All right, skipper," says Van. " Shove off." 
 
 Just a minute," says I. " What am 7 going 
 to do take the next train ? This transport seems 
 to be pretty well loaded." 
 
 It was. Van Brunt was on the amidships 
 thwart. Hartley was up in the bow, with the pig 
 between his knees. The chicken coop was piled in 
 the stern. I ain t no dime show dwarf, and where 
 I was going to stow myself was too much for 
 me. 
 
 " Humph ! " says Van. " It does look standing 
 room only. Here, skipper ; you kneel on the back 
 seat. I ll row." 
 
 I didn t exactly kneel, but I straddled across the 
 stern somehow, with the butt end of the hen roost 
 in my lap and my feet over each rail just clear of 
 the wet. 
 
 Nate s boy shoved us into deep water. He 
 had to take off his shoes and stockings to do it,
 
 i68 MR. PRATT. 
 
 and he was laughing so that he made mighty poor 
 headway. 
 
 " .You pesky young one I " says I, losing pa 
 tience. " If you don t tend to your job I ll get 
 out and duck you. What are you giggling at? " 
 
 " I ain t giggling," says he. " I m pushing. 
 Ugh! Haw! haw! Ugh! There you be!" 
 
 He gave us a final shove and then went back 
 and rolled around in the bushes. Somebody was 
 having a good time if we wa n t. 
 
 We moved off stately and slow, like an ocean 
 liner leaving her dock. We didn t have any band, 
 but the pig and hens furnished music. The skiff s 
 rail was almost a-wash and my heels dipped on 
 every little wave. 
 
 Van rowed like a good one till he got about two- 
 thirds of the way across. Then the tide got a grip 
 on us and he commenced to go slower, and groan. 
 He d miss a stroke and we d swing half way 
 around. We was going broadside on most of the 
 time. 
 
 By and by Hartley spoke up. 
 
 " What makes this pig kick so? " says he, like 
 twas some kind of a conundrum. The critter 
 seemed to be doing his best to answer it, but his 
 language wa n t understandable.
 
 THE FOYAGE OF THE ARK 169 
 
 You look out he don t kick that string off his 
 legs," I hollers. I had to holler to make myself 
 heard above the choir. 
 
 He bent forward and looked down. " Why! " 
 says he. " I ll be shot if he hasn t done it al 
 ready." 
 
 " Hang on to him then ! " I yells. " For the 
 land sakes don t let him loose." 
 
 Van Brunt gives a final groan and stops the 
 oars. 
 
 " No use, skipper," he says. " My cucumber 
 recreation has put me out of the race. I wouldn t 
 row another stroke for the control of the Standard 
 Oil. You ll have to be shofer the rest of the 
 way." 
 
 I didn t know what a " shofer " was and I don t 
 know now; but I could see trouble coming. 
 
 " Set where you be ! " I shouted. " Don t 
 move. Thunderation ! There you go!" 
 
 The pesky idiot had stood up to stretch, leaving 
 the oars in the rowlocks. Course the skiff swung 
 broadside on and a wave knocked the starboard 
 oar overboard. Hartley see it going and made a 
 jump and a grab. He missed it, you might know, 
 but he let go of the pig. 
 
 I ripped out a lively kind of speech and dove
 
 i 7 o MR. PRATT 
 
 for the port oar. The hen coop was in my way 
 and it and me went headfirst into Van Brunt s 
 shirt front. When I got out of the mix-up, both 
 oars \vas ten yards astern, the pig was doing three 
 laps a minute over us and under the thwarts, and 
 the hens was all out of jail and proud of it. Like 
 wise we was drifting out to sea. 
 
 " // ell! " says I. " This is nice, ain t it? Get 
 out, you varmint ! " This last part was to a 
 pullet that was flapping on my shoulders. 
 
 Would you believe it, all them Heavenly loons 
 done was to laugh. They just roared. 
 
 "Ho! ho!" whoops Hartley. "Oh, dear 
 me ! This is v/orth the price of admission." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " cackles Van, puffing for breath, and 
 shoving the pig out of his lap. " This is the best 
 ever ! The floating garden of Eden ! Or the 
 Ark! Say, Martin; I begin to sympathize with 
 Noah." 
 
 " Noah sent out a dove, if I remember right," 
 says Hartley. " Wonder if it would work with a 
 chicken? Where s our Ararat, skipper? " 
 
 I was mad clean through. Here was twice that 
 I d been made a fool of on salt water. I wa n t 
 used to it and it hurt. 
 
 " The Ark was afloat for forty odd days; you
 
 THE VOYAGE OF THE ARK 171 
 
 want to remember that" says I. " And this 
 skiff won t float forty minutes, loaded the way she 
 is, if she drifts outside that point." 
 
 " Then she musn t drift there," says Van, cheer 
 ful. " I don t want to get wet not now, with 
 James gone. This is the only presentable suit I ve 
 got left. If this is wrecked you ll have to press 
 it, Sol." 
 
 My, but I was hopping! Talking about press 
 ing clothes, and us next door to going to the 
 bottom ! 
 
 " I ll press nothing," says I. " And I ll say 
 right now, Mr. Van Brunt, that I won t tend to 
 them gardens. You hear " 
 
 Van waved his hand. " Your salary from flow 
 on," he says, " will be " 
 
 " No, it won t. My salary s big enough. It s 
 me that s short short about twenty-six hours out 
 of the twenty-four. If I was two men I might do 
 what s needful, but as tis I can t. I like you both 
 first-rate when you ain t too crazy but either 
 you ll have to get me a helper, or I ll have to quit. 
 That is, if we get out of this mess alive, which ain t 
 likely." 
 
 All the time I was preaching this way I was 
 tugging at the midships thwart. Finally I got it
 
 172 MR. PRATT 
 
 loose and shoved it over the stern. I was going 
 to try to scull with it. 
 
 The Heavenlies was completely upset. Not 
 by the fear of drowning drat em. I don t car- 
 late they was afraid of anything but my talk of 
 quitting seemed to knock em silly. 
 
 " By Jove ! you know," says Van. " This is 
 serious, skipper. You can t mean it." 
 
 " You bet I can! " I says, sculling like all pos 
 sessed with one arm, and fighting pullets with the 
 other. 
 
 " You re not going," says Van, decided. 
 "You re simply not. Is he, Martin?" 
 
 " I should say not," says t other Twin. " Sol, 
 if you want more money or assistants or any 
 thing, why, all right. But we want you. And 
 we re going to keep you." 
 
 " That s settled then," says Van, quick. 
 ;< What kind of help do you want and how 
 many? " 
 
 " Well," I says, cooling down a mite of 
 course I was pleased to find they liked me 
 so well. " Well," I says, " if you could get 
 somebody to cook and help round the house, 
 maybe I " 
 
 "A cook?" says Van. "Good! We get a
 
 THE VOYAGE OF THE ARK 173 
 
 cook two cooks ten of em, if you say so. And 
 we get em quick." 
 
 " Let s get ashore first," says I. " I ve got to 
 make the point there or we ll get " 
 
 " Our finish, hey? " he says, ending the sentence 
 for me. " All right; make the point." Then he 
 got out a cigar and went to smoking. 
 
 But I wa n t by no means sure we would make 
 the point. Twas the east ard end of Ozone 
 Island I was aiming for. The tide set in strong 
 there and I could see that the skiff would pretty 
 nigh hit the beach, if I had luck. 
 
 We zig-zagged along. Pretty soon we got to 
 where the waves was running higher. They com 
 menced to slop into the boat. 
 
 " She ll go under, sure s you re born," says L 
 " If I can only keep her up till we get into shoal 
 water." 
 
 " I seem to have acquired the castaway habit," 
 says Van. " Once in that other boat of yours, Sol, 
 and now in this one. I must swear off. This is 
 getting monotonous." 
 
 The swells run bigger as we neared the point. 
 The skiff was half full and the slopping and the 
 motion stirred up the menagerie. Such squealing 
 and squawking and flapping you never heard nor
 
 , 74 MR. PRATT 
 
 saw. Them hens was all over us and the pig 
 underneath. 
 
 We riz on a wave and begun to capsize. 
 
 " Here we go I" I yelled. " Stand by! " 
 
 Over we went. The hens had the best of us in 
 a way they could fly after a fashion. I wished I 
 could. Lucky the water wa n t more than waist 
 deep. 
 
 I ploughed through the sand and undertow and 
 got to the beach. Hartley come next, toting the 
 pig by one leg. The " dear " wriggled loose and 
 headed for the pines, hurrahing like a saw-mill. 
 The most of the hens had gone on ahead. 
 
 "Humph!" says somebody. "You re pretty 
 wet, ain t you? " 
 
 I rubbed the wet sand out of my eyes. There 
 on a sand hummock in front of us was a girl. A 
 queer looking female she was, too. Reminded me 
 some of Hannah Jane Purvis, being built on the 
 same spare lines and having the same general look 
 of being all corners. She had on a striped calico 
 dress, stripes running up and down, and her belt 
 went across the middle of the stripes as straight as 
 if twas laid out with a spirit level. I couldn t see 
 her face good, for she had on a sunbonnet and 
 twas like peeking at her through a nail keg, but
 
 THE VOYAGE OF THE ARK 175 
 
 she had snapping black eyes and moved quick, 
 which wa n t Hannah Jane s way by a good sight. 
 I stood and stared at her. 
 
 " I say you re pretty wet, ain t you? " she says 
 again, louder. "Why don t you say something? 
 Are you hard of hearing? " 
 
 Before I could get my bearings enough to 
 answer, Van Brunt comes dripping alongside. He 
 was still holding the cigar stump in his mouth and 
 he had one of the Plymouth Rocks the rooster, 
 as it happened squeezed tight under one arm. 
 
 " Well, skipper," he says, " the Ark has 
 stranded and the animals may now Hello! 
 What? Who?" 
 
 He looked at the girl and she at him. Then he 
 says brisk 
 
 " Can you cook? "
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 EUREKA 
 
 WHATEVER that girl might have ex- 
 pected from us, I guess she didn t 
 expect that. It set her back so that she 
 couldn t speak for a full minute ; which was some 
 thing of a miracle, as I found out later. 
 
 " Can I what? " she says, finally. 
 
 " Can you cook? " asks Van Brunt again. 
 
 " Can I " Then she turns to me. " He 
 ought to be attended to right off," she says, refer 
 ring to Van. " Some of that wet has soaked in 
 and he s got water on the brain. Take that poor 
 rooster away from him afore he squeezes it to 
 death." 
 
 Van laughed and dropped the rooster. I cal late 
 he d forgot that he had it. " Let me explain," he 
 begun. " You see, we " 
 
 Hartley spoke then. " Wait a minute," says he, 
 laughing. " I suggest that we adjourn to the house 
 and get into some dry clothes. Then we can talk 
 business, if the young lady is willing." 
 
 176
 
 EUREKA 177 
 
 The girl looked at him. " Business is what I m 
 here for," says she. " Which of you three is the 
 quahaug one? " 
 
 " The which? " says I; and the Heavenlies both 
 said the same. 
 
 " Which of you is the quahaug one? I ve got 
 some business to talk with him." 
 
 " Martin," says Van, grave, and turning to his 
 chum. " Are you a quahaug one ? " 
 
 " I guess he is," says I. I was beginning to see 
 a light. Hartley s clamming cruise was turning 
 out as I d expected. 
 
 " Humph! " says the girl. " Well, you made a 
 clean job, Lys says. About three buckets and a 
 half, wa n t they?" 
 
 You never see a man so puzzled as Hartley, 
 unless twas Van Brunt. They looked at each 
 other, at the girl, and then at me. I explained. 
 
 " I judge twas this young woman s quahaug 
 bed that you and James cleaned out t other day," I 
 says. " You remember I told you we d hear from 
 them quahaugs later." 
 
 "Oh!" says Martin. " Awfully sorry, I m 
 sure. I hope you ll permit me to pay for " 
 
 She bobbed the sunbonnet up and down. 
 " That s what I come for," says she. " They was
 
 i 7 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 my brother Lycurgus s quahaugs. He d just 
 bedded em. Quahaugs is worth a dollar a 
 bucket this time of year. That s three dollars and 
 a half. I won t charge you for the sticks, though 
 what on earth you done with them is more n I can 
 make out, and Lys says the same." 
 
 Van was grinning from ear to ear. T other 
 Twin reached into his pocket and fished out a sop 
 ping-wet pocketbook. 
 
 4 Will the three fifty be sufficient?" he asks, 
 troubled. " I m really very sorry. It was a mis 
 take, and " 
 
 " Oh, it s all right," says the girl. " You didn t 
 know no better. Pa says fools and children ain t 
 accountable. You d better spread that money out 
 to dry fore you pay me with it. And you d better 
 get dry yourself or you ll catch cold. I can wait 
 a spell, I guess. Why don t you go after your 
 boat, Mister?" she says to me. "You ll lose it 
 first thing you know." 
 
 I looked where she pointed, and there was the 
 skiff stranded bottom up on the tip end of the point 
 flat. I ran after it, waded in and hauled it ashore. 
 The Heavenlies hurried up to the house. When I 
 come back the girl was waiting for me. 
 
 " I ll walk along up with you," she says. " Say,
 
 EUREKA 179 
 
 you re Solomon Pratt, ain t you? I heard about 
 you. Nate Scudder told pa. He said he d let 
 this place to Sol Pratt and a couple of crazy men 
 from New York. I thought sure you d swear 
 when the boat upset, but you didn t. You 
 must belong to the church. What are you 
 Methodist?" 
 
 I grinned. " So you think a ducking like that 
 would be apt to make a man swear, do you? " 
 says I. 
 
 " Yup, if he hadn t got religion. Pa d have 
 cussed a blue streak. You d ought to hear him 
 when he has his nervous dyspepsy spells. Did you 
 say you was a Methodist? " 
 
 " No-o, I guess I didn t. Let s see. Did you 
 say your name was Dusenberry? " 
 
 She stopped and kind of fizzed, like a teakettle 
 biling over. "Sakes alive ! " she snaps. " I hope 
 not ! Do I look as if I was carting a name like that 
 around? My name s Sparrow Eureka Fiorina 
 Sparrow. What s the matter anything? " 
 
 " No, not special. You kind of fetched me up 
 into the wind, striking me head on so, unexpected. 
 Just say that again and say it slow. Eureka Pe- 
 runa what was it? " 
 
 She switched around and stared at me hard.
 
 i8o MR. PRATT 
 
 41 Eureka Fiorina Sparrow," says she, slow and 
 distinct. " Want me to spell it for you? " 
 
 " No, thanks. You might mix me up some if 
 you did. I had to leave school early. Any more 
 in your family? " 
 
 " Yup. Seven of us, counting me and pa 
 makes eight." 
 
 " What s their names? " 
 
 " Well, there s Lycurgus and Editha and 
 Ulysses and Napoleon and Marguerite and Dewey 
 he s the baby. Great names, ain t they? Pa s 
 doings, naming em that way was. Pa says there s 
 nothing like hitching a grand name to a young one ; 
 gives em something to live up to, he says. His 
 own name s Washington, but he ain t broke his 
 back living up to it, far s as I can see; and ma used 
 to say the same afore she died." 
 
 " O-o-h! " says I. " I see." I knew who she 
 was now. I hadn t lived around Wellmouth so 
 very long, but I d heard of Washington Sparrow. 
 He lived in a little slab shanty off in the woods 
 about a mile from Scudder s, and had the name of 
 being the laziest man in town. 
 
 We d reached the house by this time and I left 
 Eureka Fiorina in the kitchen and went to my 
 room to change my duds. When I come down the
 
 EUREKA 181 
 
 Twins was in the kitchen, too, and I could hear the 
 Sparrow girl s tongue going like a house afire. 
 Martin had just paid her for the quahaugs and she 
 was telling how scarce they d got to be in the bay, 
 and how her brother had worked to get a few 
 bedded and how he d sold a couple of quarts to the 
 Baptist minister s wife and what she said about 
 em, and so on. The Heavenlies seemed to be 
 enjoying every minute of it, judging by the way 
 they laughed. 
 
 " Introduce us to the lady, skipper," says Van, 
 when I come in. 
 
 I done the honors. " She s one of Washy Spar 
 row s tribe I mean family," says I. " They live 
 over in the woods hereabouts." 
 
 " I guess tribe ll do," says Eureka, cutting in 
 quick. " There s pretty near enough of us to make 
 a town, seems sometimes. You d think so if you 
 had to get meals for em, same s I do." 
 
 " You ! " says I. " Do you cook for all that 
 gang? How old are you? " 
 
 " Seventeen last March. Cook for em? Guess 
 I do ! And scratch to get things to cook, too ; else 
 we d have to live on salt air pudding with wind 
 sass. I take in washing, and Lycurgus he goes 
 fishing and clamming and choring around, and
 
 182 MR. PRATT 
 
 Editha helps me iron, and we all take watch and 
 watch looking out for the young ones." 
 
 Hartley spoke then. " We re looking for a 
 cook," he says. Will you come and cook for us, 
 and help about the house here? Mr. Pratt finds 
 the job too big for one man." 
 
 She bobbed her head. " Yup," says she, dry 
 as a chip. " I should think he might, judging by 
 what I ve seen. No, I can t come. I ve got to 
 stay home and look out for the folks." 
 
 "Why can t your father do that?" asks 
 Hartley. 
 
 " Who pa? I guess you ain t heard about pa. 
 He s sick. Got his never-get-over, he says. Pa s 
 had most every kind of symptom there is ; phthisic 
 and influency and lumbago and pleurisy. Now 
 he s settled down to consumption and nervous 
 dyspepsy. Afore ma died she used to try to cure 
 him, but the doctor and pa had a row. The doctor 
 said pa didn t have consumption nor nothing else; 
 what he needed was hard exercise, such as work. 
 Pa said the doc didn t know his business, and the 
 doc said maybe not, but he knew pa. So pa told 
 him never to darken our door again, and he ain t 
 except to come around once in a while and collect 
 something from me on the bill."
 
 EUREKA 183 
 
 " Well," says I, " maybe you know somebody 
 else that would do for us. Who s a good cook and 
 general housekeeper that would be likely to hire 
 out?" 
 
 She thought for a moment or so. " I don t 
 know," she says. " Most folks in this neighbor 
 hood is too high-toned to go out working. They d 
 rather stay to home and take boarders. Mrs. 
 Hannah Jane Purvis is about the only one, and 
 you ve had her." 
 
 Martin made a face. " We have," he says. 
 
 " Yup," says Eureka. " She told Mr. Scudder 
 that you was crazy as all get out, and sunk in 
 worldly sin besides. She said you d get your pay 
 hereafter for treating her the way you did." 
 
 " We hope to," says Van, cheerful. " Now, 
 Miss er Sparrow, we want you to come and 
 help us out. We re Crusoes on a desert island 
 and we need a Man I should say Woman Fri* 
 day. We ll pay you so much," he says, naming a 
 price that made even my eyes stick out, and I was 
 used to high prices by this time. 
 
 " A month?" she says, staring at him. 
 
 " A week," says he. 
 
 She had a queer way of doing everything by 
 jerks, like as if she was hung on wires and worked
 
 i8 4 MR. PRATT. 
 
 with a string. Now she straightened up out of her 
 chair so sudden you almost expected to hear her 
 snap. 
 
 " A week? " she sings out. " Oh I " Then she 
 looked at me. 
 
 " Oh, it s so, if he says so," says I, resigned like. 
 
 " Land sakes! A week! I never but it ain t 
 no use. What would become of pa and the chil 
 dren ? w 
 
 " Couldn t you come over for the days, at 
 least?" asks Martin. "You might go home 
 nights, you know." 
 
 And that s the way it ended, finally. The Twins 
 had made up their minds, and when that happened, 
 heaven and earth wouldn t change em. At last 
 Eureka said she d talk it over with her folks, and 
 Van Brunt said we would come over to her house 
 next day and get the decision. 
 
 " There ! " says he, when the Sparrow girl had 
 gone. " Skipper, the cook question is settled." 
 
 " Maybe tis," says I. " Looks to me as if 
 you d settled it the way the feller settled the coffee, 
 by upsetting it. For chaps that pined for rest and 
 quiet you two do queer things. Do you realize 
 what getting mixed up with that Sparrow gang is 
 likely to mean? " 
 
 " If the whole flock is like the specimen bird
 
 EUREKA 185 
 
 we ve seen," he says, " it ll mean joy. If there was 
 one thing needed to make Ozone Island a delight, 
 a gem of purest ray serene, that original would be 
 the thing. She s a circus in herself. I shall dream 
 to-night of pa and the doctor. Ho, ho! By the 
 way, what s her Christian name? " 
 
 I told the name the whole of it. How them 
 Heavenlies did laugh. 
 
 " Eureka ! " says Hartley. " Splendid! " 
 
 "Eureka!" says Van. " We have found it! 
 Sol, let s have lunch." 
 
 I got em something to eat and then the three 
 of us put in the afternoon chasing the wild animals. 
 The chickens was fairly easy to get hold of; I laid 
 a trail of corn up to the door of the hen-yard and 
 trapped the most of em that way. But the pig 
 was a holy terror. He d had his experience with 
 Ozone Islanders that morning and he didn t want 
 any more. Up and down that blessed sand bar 
 we chased him, getting upset and tiring ourselves 
 out. The pig race over to Eastwich wa n t in it. 
 I did most of the chasing; the Heavenlies super 
 intended, as usual, and give orders and laughed. 
 They pretty nigh laughed themselves sick. Finally 
 the critter bolted into the woodshed and I locked 
 the door on him. It was six o clock when I 
 dumped him into the sty. Of all the Natural Life
 
 186 MR. PRATT 
 
 days I d had yet this one was the liveliest and most 
 wearing. A week like it and my natural place 
 would have been the burying ground. I cal late I 
 lost three pound that afternoon. I was getting so 
 thin that when I fell down my legs made grooves 
 in the sand. 
 
 The next forenoon me and Hartley went over 
 to close the cook trade. Van wouldn t go. He 
 said the gardening and the shipwreck and the 
 steeple-chase meaning the pig hunt had given 
 him sensations enough for a week or so; he had 
 some of em with him yet. So Martin said he d go, 
 for my sake. I borrowed a couple of spare oars 
 from Scudder, when he arrived with the morning s 
 dose of skim-milk and cream and butter, and, as 
 I took care to row the skiff this time, we made the 
 passage all right. Then we walked up to the 
 Sparrows nest. 
 
 Twas a pretty shabby looking shack, now I tell 
 you. Shingles dropping off, and fence falling 
 down, and a general shortage of man s work every 
 where. But there was a bed of bachelor s buttons 
 and old maid s pinks under the front window, and 
 the windows themselves was clean and bright. 
 Eureka had done her best to make the place 
 homey; you could see that.
 
 EUREKA 187 
 
 She let us in when we knocked at the kitchen 
 door. Her sleeves was rolled up and there was a 
 big basket of clothes by the steaming washtub. 
 Editha, the twelve-year-old, was grinding at the 
 wringer and Dewey, the baby, was setting on 
 the floor playing with a rag doll. The rest of the 
 tribe except Lycurgus, who had gone peddling 
 clams was off playing. 
 
 Eureka, she apologized for things being so up 
 set, but there wa n t any need for apologies. The 
 house was plain and poor you could see that it 
 took a mighty lot of stretching to make both ends 
 come in sight of each other, let alone meet; but 
 twas clean as a whistle. Even the baby was clean, 
 all except his face and hands, and no healthy young 
 one ought to have them clean. 
 
 " Good morning," says Hartley. " Have you 
 decided to cook for us? " 
 
 She bobbed her head over the washtub. " I ve 
 decided it, if pa has," says she. " He ain t made 
 up his mind yet. He wanted to sleep on it, he said. 
 I guess he s done that. Anyhow he s just got up. 
 Step right into the dining-room and talk to him. 
 You ll have to excuse me ; I ve got to get this wash 
 ing done afore noon, somehow."
 
 i88 MR. PRATT 
 
 So she pitched into the scrubbing, bending in the 
 middle exactly like a jointed pocket-rule, and the 
 Twin and me went into the dining-room. 
 
 Washington Sparrow was there. There wa n t 
 but one comfortable rocking-chair in sight and he 
 was in that, with his stocking feet resting on the 
 ruins of a haircloth sofa. He was pretty husky 
 looking, seemed to me, for a man complicated with 
 consumption and nervous dyspepsy, but his face 
 was as doleful as a crape bonnet, and twas plain 
 that he couldn t see no hope, and was satisfied with 
 his eyesight. He had a clay pipe in his mouth and 
 was smoking like a peat fire. 
 
 "How are you, Mr. Sparrow?" says Martin, 
 bright and chipper. " How s the health this 
 morning? " 
 
 The invalid rolled his eyes around, but he didn t 
 get out of the rocker. Neither did he take them 
 blue yarn socks off the sofa. 
 
 "Oh!" says he, groaning something awful. 
 " I m miserable, thank you. Set down and make 
 yourselves to home." 
 
 There was only three settable pieces of furniture 
 in the room. He was using two of em, and t other 
 was a child s high chair. So we decided to 
 stand up.
 
 EUREKA 189 
 
 " Don t you find yourself improving this beau 
 tiful weather? " asks Hartley, sympathetic. 
 
 Washy fetched another groan, so deep that I 
 judged it started way down in the blue socks. 
 
 " No," says he. " I m past improving. Just 
 lingering round now and suffering, waiting for the 
 end. I s pose Reky told you what I had, didn t 
 she?" 
 
 Hartley looked troubled. " Why," he says, 
 "she did say that you feared tuberculosis, but " 
 
 " Tuber nothing! That s just like her! mak 
 ing fun of her poor sick father. What I ve got is 
 old-fashioned consumption." Here he fetched a 
 cough that was hollerer than the groaning. "Old- 
 fashioned consumption and nervous dyspepsy. 
 Can t eat a meal s vittles In comfort. But there! 
 I ll be through pretty soon. The sooner the 
 quicker / say. Everybody 11 be glad when I m 
 gone. * Don t, I says to em, don t rag out in no 
 mourning for me. Don t put no hot-house wreaths 
 on my grave. I know how you feel and Get 
 off my feet, you everlasting young one! Think 
 I m a ladder?" 
 
 This last part was to Dewey, who had come in 
 from the kitchen, and was trying to climb onto the 
 sofa.
 
 i9o MR. PRATT 
 
 Martin looked like he didn t know what to say. 
 By and by he cleared his throat and threw out a 
 hint concerning Eureka s coming to Ozone. The 
 sick man shook his head. 
 
 " No," he says. " I m self-sacrificing, and all 
 that, but somehow I can t make up my mind to let 
 her go. I can t bear to have her out of my sight a 
 minute. You can t begin to think, Mr. What s- 
 your-name, what a comfort tis to me, agonizing 
 here and suffering, to have Reky setting down 
 alongside of me day after day, the way she does. 
 You can t begin to think it, Mister." 
 
 7 couldn t begin to think it not without what 
 the doctor calls " stimulants." The amount of set 
 ting down that poor hard-working Eureka got 
 time for wouldn t comfort anybody much, it 
 seemed to me. 
 
 " She s my favorite child," went on Washy, 
 swabbing his eyes. " She always was, too. Even 
 when she was a baby I thought more of her than 
 I done of all the others." 
 
 Eureka must have been listening, for she called 
 from the kitchen. 
 
 ; Why, pa! " she says. " When I was a baby 
 there wa n t any others. I m the oldest." 
 
 The invalid bounced up straight in the rocker.
 
 EUREKA 191 
 
 " That s it!" he hollers. "Make fun of your 
 helpless, poor old father! Go ahead! pick at me 
 and contradict me! I s pose when I m dead and 
 in my grave you ll contradict me every time I 
 speak." 
 
 He blew off steam for much as five minutes. 
 Didn t even remember to stop and get his cough 
 going. Hartley turned to the door. I could see 
 he was disappointed. 
 
 " Very well," he says. " I m sorry. I m sure 
 she is just the girl we need. Good day, Mr. Spar 
 row." 
 
 I cal late Washy wa n t expecting that. He 
 hitched around in his chair. It had a busted cane 
 seat, the chair did, and he had to roost on the edge 
 of it to keep from falling through. 
 
 " Er er just a minute, Mister," he says. " I 
 want you to understand how I feel about this thing. 
 If I was able to do for myself twould be different, 
 but " 
 
 Eureka came to the door then, wiping her arms 
 on her apron. 
 
 " Why, pa," she says, " I told you I could fix 
 that." 
 
 She went on to tell how she d get up early every 
 morning and cook the meals afore she left, and
 
 192 MR. PRATT 
 
 how Editha would be there, and Lycurgus would 
 split the wood and do the chores, and how she d 
 be home nights, and so on. She had planned every 
 thing. I liked that girl. At last her dad give 
 another one of his groans. 
 
 " All right," says he. " / give in. / ain t going 
 to stand in the way. Hadn t ought to expect 
 nothing different, I s pose. Work and fret and 
 slave yourself into the boneyard bringing up chil 
 dren, and and educating em and all, and then 
 off they go and leave you. Well, I m resigned. 
 Mr. Mr. What s-your-name, she can go, Eu 
 reka can for two dollars more a week." 
 
 I actually gasped out loud. The cheek of him ! 
 Why, the price Van had offered was enough to 
 hire three girls. And now this shark wanted 
 more. 
 
 Even Martin Hartley seemed to be set back 
 some. But he was game. For a "mercenary" chap 
 he was the most liberal piece of goods on the shelf. 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Sparrow," says he. " That 
 will be satisfactory. Good morning. Good morn 
 ing, Eureka. I presume we shall see you to 
 morrow? " 
 
 We got out of the house finally. Washy come 
 far as the kitchen to see us off. He was smiling
 
 EUREKA 193 
 
 and sweet as syrup now. When I d got to the walk 
 Eureka called me back. 
 
 " Mr. Pratt," she whispered, " you tell Mr. 
 Hartley that of course I sha n t take the extra two 
 dollars. I ll be paid too much as tis. But we 
 won t let pa know." 
 
 Afore I could answer there was a yell from the 
 dining-room. I looked in and there was Washy 
 doubled up in that rocker with his knees under his 
 chin. He d forgot about the busted cane seat and 
 had set down heavy and gone through. Editha 
 was trying to haul him out, the baby was crying, 
 and the invalid himself was turning loose the 
 healthiest collection of language I d heard for a 
 good while. Eureka dove to the rescue, and I 
 come away. 
 
 Hartley and I walked on a spell without saying 
 much. Then he asks 
 
 " Skipper, do you suppose that fellow really has 
 consumption? " 
 
 "Humph!" says I, disgusted; "consumption 
 of grub." 
 
 He thought a minute longer. 
 
 " Poor girl," says he. " She has a hard time 
 of it. We must see if we can t help her in some 
 way."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 MISS SPARROWS DIAGNOSIS 
 
 EUREKA was on hand bright and early the 
 next day and it didn t take me long to see 
 that she was worth her salt. She took hold 
 like a good one and had breakfast and a mighty 
 good breakfast ready right on time. I don t 
 know when I ve enjoyed a meal like I done that 
 one, sure all the while that I hadn t got to turn to 
 and wash the dishes afterwards. I went out to my 
 gardening feeling like a sick man who had turned 
 the corner and was on the road to getting well 
 again. 
 
 And from then on the Natural Life was easy for 
 all of us, for quite a spell. The new girl was a 
 wonder, so far as doing work was concerned. 
 She d go through Marcellus s old home like a hur 
 ricane, sweeping and dusting and singing. She was 
 most always singing that is, when she wa n t 
 talking. She had a queer programme of mus ; 
 too, running from hymn tunes to songs she d heard 
 the boarders use over at the hotel. One minute 
 
 194
 
 MISS SPARROWS DIAGNOSIS 195 
 
 twould be, " Land ahead! Its fruits are waving," 
 and the next meeting somebody " in the shade of 
 the old apple tree." 
 
 One day I come in and she was piping up about 
 how everybody to her house worked but her dad, 
 or words to that effect. 
 
 " Hello ! " says I. " Did you make that up out 
 of your head? " 
 
 " No," she says. " It s a new one that Lycurgus 
 heard over to the Old Home House. It sounded 
 so as if twas made for our family that it kind of 
 stuck in Lys s craw and he come home and told it 
 to me. 
 
 " Everybody works but father, 
 And he sets round all day. 
 
 " I tried it on pa last night," she went on. 
 " Thought it might jar him some, but it didn t. 
 He said twas funny. Maybe I d think so, too, if 
 I was him." 
 
 How Hartley laughed when he heard her sing 
 ing that. She tickled the Twins most to death, 
 anyway. She was as sharp as a whip and as honest 
 as a Quaker parson. When her first pay day come 
 she set her squared-toed boot down and simply 
 would not take the extry two dollars wages. She 
 said even a hog knew when it had enough, and she
 
 196 MR. PRATT 
 
 wa n t a hog. Martin told me he was going to 
 make it up to her some other way. The Heav- 
 enlies was mighty interested in her; but not more 
 so than she was in them. 
 
 She and I had some great confabs when we was 
 alone together. She asked I don t know how many 
 questions about Hartley and Van Brunt; why they 
 was living this way, and how they used to live and 
 all. I told her some of what Lord James had told 
 me, but not the whole. I left out about the en 
 gaged business, because I figgered it wa n t any of 
 her affairs, rightly speaking. Course twa n t none 
 of mine neither, but somehow I d got to feel that 
 I was a sort of father to them two cracked New 
 Yorkers. 
 
 " Do you think they re crazy? " she asks. 
 " Nate Scudder says they act as if they was." 
 
 " You ve got me," says I. " I ain t made up my 
 mind yet." 
 
 " What makes em go in swimming every morn 
 ing? " she wanted to know. 
 
 " Why, to take a bath, I guess," says I. "Van 
 Brunt told me he always took his plunge when he 
 was home." 
 
 She nodded, quick as usual. " Um-hum," says 
 she. " I ve read about it. They do it in the mar-
 
 197 
 
 ble swimming pool in the gardens of the ducal 
 mansion. And there s palm trees around and 
 fountains, and nightingales singing, and music 
 floating on the balmy perfumed air. And when 
 they ve got all scrubbed up there s velvet-footed 
 menials to fan em and give em hasheesh to 
 smoke." 
 
 " Want to know ! " I says. " What s hasheesh? 
 Plug cut or cigars? " 
 
 " Tain t neither," said she. " It s some kind of 
 stuff that makes you dream about beautiful women 
 and things." 
 
 " Well, they don t have that here," says I. 
 " They smoke cigars and cigarettes. And I ve 
 smoked both of em and my dreams was mainly 
 about how much work I had to do. Nightingales 
 are birds, ain t they? We re pretty shy on night 
 ingales over here to Horsefoot, but maybe the 
 gulls make that up. Gulls don t sing, no more than 
 hens, but they screech enough for six. Where did 
 you get all this stuff from, anyway? " 
 
 She got it out of library books and the Home 
 Comforter. Seems old Miss Paine, over in the 
 village, lent her the Comforter every week as fast 
 as she got through with it herself. Eureka had 
 never been to the city, nor anywheres further than
 
 198 MR. PRATT 
 
 Eastwich, and her ideas about such things was the 
 queerest mixed-up mess of novel trash and smart 
 boarder s lies that ever was. That, and what she d 
 read in the newspapers. She said she was going to 
 the city some day, when her " affinity " showed up. 
 
 " What s your idea of a first-class affinity? " I 
 asks, looking for information. I didn t know 
 whether twas an animal or a cart. 
 
 ; Well," says she, " he s got to be good-looking 
 and have chests and chests of gold and jewelry. 
 Further than that I ain t made up my mind yet." 
 
 She said when she did go she would sew up her 
 money in the waist of her dress, and if a confi 
 dence man, or a trust or a policeman tried to get 
 it away from her, she bet he d have trouble on 
 his hands. 
 
 "Policeman?" says I. "What would he be 
 doing trying to steal your money? Policemen 
 ain t thieves." 
 
 "They ain t, hey?" she says. "City police 
 men ain t? I guess you ain t read much about 
 em." 
 
 She read the police committee trials in a stack of 
 three or four-year-old newspapers and they d fixed 
 her, far s policemen was concerned. 
 
 She didn t take any stock in Hartley s being
 
 199 
 
 down our way for his health. She said she had 
 made up her mind what was the matter with him. 
 " What ails him" says she, " is Girl." 
 
 " Girl? " says I. 
 
 "Yup. He s in love." 
 
 I set back and looked at her. Mind you I 
 hadn t said one word about Agnes Page or the 
 busted engagement. 
 
 "Get out!" I says, finally. "What did he 
 come here for then? There ain t a female native 
 in this neighborhood that wouldn t stop a clock 
 present company excepted, of course." 
 
 " It don t make no difference. He s in love, 
 and he s come here to forget his troubles. You 
 never read * False but Fair, or the Bride Bereft, 
 did you? I thought not. Why, East Wellmouth 
 is Glory alongside of some places that young men 
 in love goes to. You wait. I ll find out that girl s 
 name some of these days." 
 
 She said that Van Brunt wa n t in love; which 
 struck me funny, knowing what I did. 
 
 Twa n t so very long after this that the Heav- 
 enlies and me drove to South Eastwich to visit 
 the Fresh Air School. I don t think Hartley 
 would have gone if it hadn t been that his name 
 was specially mentioned in the note from Agnes.
 
 200 MR. PRATT 
 
 Even then Van had to say that he wouldn t go 
 unless his chum did. 
 
 We left Eureka to keep house. It seemed to 
 suit her first rate. 
 
 You wait till that Scudder man comes," she 
 says to me. " I want to talk to him about the milk 
 he s been leaving." 
 
 u What s the matter with it? " I asks. " Ain t 
 he giving full measure? " 
 
 " Not of milk he ain t," she says. " It s too 
 white to wash with and too blue to drink. I m 
 going to tell him we ve got a pump ourselves." 
 
 The Eastwich school was a big old farm house 
 with considerable land around it. The youngsters 
 had lots of room to run and carry on. All hands 
 was at the door to meet us, Agnes and Miss Tal- 
 ford and Redny, and all the inmates. The Heav- 
 enlies had stopped in the village and got a big 
 freezer full of ice cream they ordered it ahead 
 and, well, I thought we d got a warm welcome, but 
 when the children saw that freezer 
 
 The ladies shook hands with us and asked us in. 
 Lord James was there in all his glory. You could 
 see that his new job suited him down to his shoes. 
 No hard work, no sailing or such like, good easy 
 bosses, and plenty of picking on the side, I judged.
 
 MISS SPARROW S DIAGNOSIS 201 
 
 I turned the horse and carriage over to him, under 
 protest, and we went into the house. 
 
 " First of all, Ed," said the Page girl, turning 
 to Van Brunt, " I want to thank you, on behalf of 
 the children, for your kindness in sending them 
 the fruit. It is delicious. You should see the dears 
 every day when the expressman comes with the 
 basket." 
 
 Van looked puzzled. " Fruit? " he says. " I 
 don t understand. Do you know anything about 
 fruit, skipper? " 
 
 I pleaded not guilty. Hartley didn t seem to 
 hear. He was busy talking with Miss Talford. 
 
 II Why! " says Agnes. " Doesn t it come from 
 you ? We have been receiving the loveliest basket 
 of fruit from Boston every morning. I thought 
 of course you had ordered it for us. Didn t you, 
 really?" 
 
 Van shook his head. " It takes a man with the 
 ordinary amount of brains and thoughtfulness to 
 do things like that," he says. " I m miles below 
 the average in such things. In all but carelessness 
 and general idiocy I m a bear on the market. 
 Here, Martin ! Miss Talford, please excuse him 
 for a moment, will you? Martin, are you respon 
 sible for this fruit? "
 
 2 o2 MR. PRATT 
 
 Hartley was so sunburned that you couldn t 
 have told if he did blush. But he acted nervous 
 and uneasy. 
 
 " It was nothing," he said. " I knew the 
 youngsters liked such things, and the stuff you get 
 here isn t eatable. Then James is a success, Miss 
 Talford, you say?" 
 
 But he didn t get off quite as easy as that. 
 Agnes looked up surprised and, I thought, pleased. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Hartley," she said. " It was 
 kind of you, and very thoughtful." 
 
 Of course the Talford girl thanked him, too. 
 He acted a good deal like he wished he hadn t 
 come. 
 
 But I guess that feeling wore off after a while. 
 It seemed to me that Miss Page was considerable 
 pleasanter to him than I d seen her yet. She 
 talked to him more and there wa n t so much of 
 that chilly " hands-off " kind of manner in her 
 voice. Two or three times they seemed almost 
 friendly, as you might say, and toward the end of 
 the day Hartley s blueness, that was always with 
 him when she was in sight, had pretty nigh dis 
 appeared. He seemed quite happy, for him 
 not his usual careless, don t-care kind of jollity, 
 either.
 
 MISS SPARROWS DIAGNOSIS 203 
 
 One thing that I think Agnes noticed was the 
 way the boy, Redny, stuck to him. You could see 
 that the little chap s idea of a first-class brick was 
 Martin Hartley. And another sure thing was that 
 Redny was the Page girl s favorite. She was 
 always running after him to see what he was 
 doing, that he didn t get hurt, or such like. One 
 time when she d gone on this kind of an errand, 
 and the Twins and Miss Talford and me was left 
 together, I spoke up and says 
 
 " That small fire top is considerable on Miss 
 Agnes s mind, ain t he? " 
 
 Margaret Talford laughed. " He s the apple 
 of her eye," says she. " She fairly worships him. 
 I m sure I don t know why, for he s the worst 
 mischief-maker in the school. But Agnes s sym 
 pathy seems to run to the black sheep. Were you 
 a black sheep, Mr. Van Brunt? " 
 
 Van shook his head, very solemn. " I was," 
 says he, " but the cleansing influence of the Natural 
 Life has removed the upper coating. You can see 
 that she doesn t find it necessary to run after me. 
 I flatter myself that I m rapidly becoming what 
 is it that our new cook sings, skipper? Oh, yes! 
 Whiter than snow. Do you notice my alabaster 
 purity, Miss Talford? "
 
 204 MR. PRATT 
 
 " I hadn t as yet," she says. " I ll call Agnes s 
 attention to it." 
 
 " Pray don t," says he. " I m not altogether 
 certain of its lasting qualities. Suppose you keep 
 an eye on me instead, until I m sure that it is 
 enamel and not whitewash." 
 
 That was a sample of the talk of them two. 
 Just nonsense, but they seemed to enjoy it first 
 rate. 
 
 At dinner Van entertained the crowd, as usual,, 
 with stories about the Island and our doings on it. 
 He told how the Ark upset, and twas wild enough 
 anyhow, but when he d finished embroidering it 
 twas a regular crazy quilt. Then he begun with 
 Eureka. He didn t know much about Washy, ex 
 cept from the girl s talk, for Hartley nor me hadn t 
 told much of our experience. So all he said was 
 that the old man was sick. Agnes Page seemed a 
 good deal interested. 
 
 After they d finished eating she asked me con 
 siderable many questions. 
 
 " Is he all alone there, the poor sick man? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " No, no! " says I. " There s children enough 
 to help out a whole hospital. He s all right." 
 
 " But those children ought not to have to stay at
 
 MISS SPARROWS DIAGNOSIS 205 
 
 home," says she. " They need the air and exercise 
 and schooling." 
 
 " They don t look as if they was wasting away," 
 I told her. " Eureka s as good as a ma to em > 
 and better than a pa her pa, anyway." 
 
 She seemed to be thinking. " The poor fellow," 
 she says, referring to Washy, I judged. " I must 
 drive over and see him." 
 
 I told her Hartley had promised to help Eureka. 
 She seemed real pleased. Her face kind of lit up. 
 She walked away then and didn t say no more. 
 
 Lord James and me had our dinner together. I 
 pumped him about the girls and how he liked 
 em. 
 
 " They re all right," he says. " As perfect 
 ladies and as generous and open anded as I could 
 wish." 
 
 " Which do you like best? " I asked. 
 
 " I aven t no choice," he says. " Miss Page 
 is a good ousekeeper. Almost too good if I may 
 say it. A lady adn t ought to meddle with ouse- 
 hold affairs, not when she has a competent man to 
 attend to em for er. Miss Talford now, she s 
 different. I d like to work for er always." 
 
 " Pity she ain t going to be Mrs. Van Brunt 
 instead of t other," says I. " Then you d have an
 
 206 MR. PRATT 
 
 easy berth. Don t it seem to you that Miss Page 
 and your boss ain t any too thick for engaged 
 folks?" 
 
 " No, indeed! " says he, scornful. " Lord love 
 you, you d ought to see some married folks as I ve 
 worked for. W y Lord Enry and er Ladyship, 
 they " 
 
 He was on his English tack now and you never 
 could get him off it when he was started good. I 
 didn t get much satisfaction out of him. 
 
 I got more a while later, though. Just afore 
 we started for home Hartley and the Page girl 
 come walking down the porch together. They 
 wa n t saying much when I first saw em, but all at 
 once she says 
 
 14 Mr. Hartley, there is one thing I must ask 
 you. You paid Dennis the five dollar prize he won 
 at the race that day. Did you collect it from the 
 judges? " 
 
 " Oh, that s all right," he answers, fidgety. " I 
 think probably I did. I don t remember." 
 
 " I thought not," says she. " Now you must 
 permit me to pay it to you. The boy is under my 
 charge and I shall insist upon it." 
 
 He was pretty short and sharp, I thought. "No, 
 really," he said, " I ve forgotten the affair entirely.
 
 MISS SPARROW S DIAGNOSIS 207 
 
 No doubt I ve been paid already. It was nothing, 
 of course, and the boy was plucky and I took a 
 fancy to him." 
 
 She insisted, but he wouldn t give in. At last 
 she says, looking hard at him 
 
 "I think," she says, "that your. simple life is 
 doing a great deal for you. You have improved in 
 many ways. I have heard things good things 
 about you that surprised me. I m very glad." 
 
 He didn t answer. Just then the valet brought 
 the carriage up to the door and twas time to say 
 good by. 
 
 I was pretty tickled with the day s work, take it 
 altogether. Eureka got after me soon as we was 
 back to the Island, and she asked a couple of ton 
 of questions. She wanted to know all about the 
 school and especially about the Page girl and her 
 chum. 
 
 " You ain t told me all you know," says she, 
 finally. " Tell the rest of it. What relation is this 
 Agnes Page to Mr. Hartley? " 
 
 I said she wa n t no relation. At last, sort of in 
 self-defence, I told the whole yarn about the en 
 gagement Van s engagement, I mean. 
 
 She bobbed her head. " I thought so," says 
 she. " I don t care if Mr. Van Brunt is engaged
 
 2 o8 MR. PRATT 
 
 to the Page one. He ain t in love with her. And 
 Mr. Hartley is." 
 
 What are you talking about? " says I, soon s 
 I could get my breath. 
 
 " Just what I said. He s in love with Miss 
 Page. And I m going to help him get her." 
 
 "Humph!" says I. "You be, hey? Well, 
 how about poor Van ? What do you want to shove 
 him out into the cold for? He ain t done anything 
 to you, has he? " 
 
 She shook her sunbonnet and looked wise. 
 " That s all right," she says. " I ve got my ideas 
 about him, too. Anyway I m going to help Mr. 
 Hartley." 
 
 I thought and thought. And then, without ex 
 actly meaning to, I spoke my thought out loud. 
 
 " I believe I ll help you help him," says I. 
 
 She wa n t a bit surprised. "Humph!" she 
 says. " That s no news. You ve been trying to 
 help him for ever so long." 
 
 What do you think of that? There wa n t any 
 thing slow or dull about that Sparrow girl not 
 enough to fret yourself over, there wa n t.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 THE LAWN FETE 
 
 IT was August now. The nice weather held out 
 right along and one day on Ozone Island was 
 a good deal like the next. 
 
 And yet it seemed to me that there was little 
 changes. For instance, take the matter of reading. 
 When we first arrived twas nothing but that 
 Natural Life book ; the Heavenly Twins was at it- 
 continuous, and such a thing as a newspaper or 
 magazine was what Van Brunt called an " abomi 
 nation." I couldn t get a paper even to kindle fire 
 with; had to use poverty grass for that. But now 
 the Natural Life sermon laid on the dining-room 
 mantel piece most of the time, with a layer of dust 
 on it, and Scudder fetched the Boston and New 
 York newspapers every day. And magazines and 
 books begun to come in the mail. 
 
 I remember one day Hartley set reading the 
 New York Evening Post, that part of it he called 
 the " financial page." All at once he spoke. 
 
 209
 
 210 MR. PRATT 
 
 " By Jove! Van," he says. " Consolidated Tea 
 Lead is up three points from last week s quota 
 tions. There must be something doing." 
 
 Van looked at him, kind of sad and disap 
 pointed. 
 
 " Martin," says he, " are you falling from 
 grace ? Get thee behind me, Satan. Give me that 
 financial sheet." 
 
 Hartley laughed and tossed it over. 
 
 " There ! " says his chum, crumpling it up and 
 shoving it into his pocket. " That disturbing influ 
 ence is out of the way. Let us discuss the simple 
 and satisfying subject of agriculture. There is an 
 article on The Home Garden in this month s 
 number of The Rural Gentleman, which should be 
 instructive to our friend Mr. Pratt, plower of sea 
 and soil. Skipper, lend me your ears. I ll return 
 them shortly." 
 
 Then he commenced to read that magazine piece 
 out loud to me, very solemn, and stopping every 
 once in a while to chuck in some ridiculous advice 
 on his own account. This had got to be a regular 
 thing. Every bit of farm news I had to hear. The 
 garden was Van s pet joke. 
 
 1C What," says he, when the reading was done, 
 " is the latest crop bulletin, Sol? "
 
 THE LAWN FETE 2 u 
 
 " I have the honor to report," says I, " that 
 from the present outlook we ll have two cornstalks, 
 one tomatter vine, and three cucumber plants 
 really in sight by to-morrow morning. That is, if 
 the sand don t blow in and cover em up in the 
 night." 
 
 " Good ! " he says. " I move that the report 
 be accepted. Martin, don t let me see you wasting 
 your time on the frivolity of the Street, when there 
 are such serious matters to claim our attention." 
 
 Which was all right, only that very afternoon I 
 saw him, himself, out behind the barn, reading 
 that Post financial page and looking mighty inter 
 ested. 
 
 They was more anxious to be doing things than 
 when they first come. Hartley s health was im 
 proving all the time, and that probably accounted 
 for his liveliness. I took em sailing most every 
 day and they wanted to fish and shoot and the like 
 of that. 
 
 Once we went on a cruise after shore birds. I 
 bagged a few, but the Twins couldn t hit a flock of 
 balloons with a cannon, so they didn t have no luck. 
 But a little later Van went out alone with Nate 
 Scudder and I ll be blessed if he didn t come back 
 with a dozen peep and ring-necks. Then the way
 
 2i2 MR. PRATT 
 
 he crowed over me and Martin was scandalous, 
 till, a week later, Hartley himself went gunning 
 with Nate and fetched home fifteen, bigger and 
 better than his chum s. And after this, of course, 
 twas nothing but what a great hunter Scudder 
 was, and rubbing it into me. 
 
 The hotel boarders and the town folks was 
 mighty interested in the Ozone Islanders by this 
 time. The picnic boats from the Old Home 
 House generally sailed close by our point, to give 
 the passengers a chance to look our outfit over. 
 Sometimes the boats stopped, and then the Twins 
 would take an observation from an upstairs win 
 dow, and, if they liked the looks of the crowd, 
 would come down and keep what they called 
 " open house." " Open house " always meant 
 more work for Eureka and me. Lucky for us, 
 ^twas pretty seldom that the Heavenlies liked their 
 callers looks well enough to open up. 
 
 The Baptist minister and his wife came over to 
 call. There was going to be a " lawn fete and 
 sale " at the church pretty soon, and the idea was 
 to get the Twins to " donate " something. Van 
 Brunt was full of his high jinks that day, and he 
 took that poor parson and his wife in tow. 
 
 First he carted em out to the henyard. He
 
 THE LAWN FETE 213 
 
 paraded up and down in front of the coops, point 
 ing out the scraggly Plymouth Rocks as if they was 
 some Jdnd of freaks, like ostriches. He said they 
 ate a bag of corn a day and laid one egg a week, so 
 he figgered that every egg was worth five dollars 
 or so. What did the parson think of a donation of 
 half a dozen of them eggs ? 
 
 " Not to eat, you understand," says Van; " but 
 as rarities, as curiosities." 
 
 The minister was a young feller, not long out of 
 college, and pretty straight-laced. But he had 
 some fun in him. 
 
 " If I might suggest," he says, " I think one of 
 the hens themselves would be more acceptable and 
 profitable. Among our summer people there is a 
 great demand for antiques. Now one of those 
 hens " 
 
 That tickled Van. He told Hartley afterwards 
 that the minister was a trump. He donated lib 
 eral not with eggs nor poultry neither and 
 promised that he and Hartley would attend the 
 sale. 
 
 And they did. And so did Eureka and me. 
 The lawn fete was held in the meeting-house front 
 yard, and twas all rigged up fine with flags and 
 tissue paper and bunting. There was a grab bag
 
 2i 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 and a cake table and a fancy goods table, and I 
 don t know what all. All the summer folks was 
 there, and most of the town women and girls, and 
 the prices charged for things would have been 
 highway robbery if it hadn t been a church that 
 was charging em. 
 
 The Heavenlies bought and bought and bought. 
 They bought everything the foolishest things. 
 Van bought three pair of embroidered suspenders 
 and a crocheted tidy and a pin cushion, and Mar 
 tin got a worsted Afghan and a hand-painted sofa 
 pillow, so fresh that the paint come off on your 
 hands when you touched it. And twa n t any quiet 
 colored paint neither. And when you rubbed off 
 one layer there was another underneath. Luretta 
 Daniels daughter had painted it; she was taking 
 lessons and her ma said that she d painted that 
 pillow over much as a dozen times, because the 
 colors wa n t " blending right " or the subject 
 didn t suit her. Twas so stiff with paint on top 
 that twould have been like ramming your head 
 into a fence to lay on it. 
 
 We stayed till most everything was sold but a 
 log cabin bed quilt that the Christian paupers at 
 the poorhouse had made. Nobody seemed to \?ant 
 that, although they was gay rags enough m at to
 
 THE LAWN FETE 215 
 
 build a rainbow. The minister s wife said she was 
 so sorry. The poor things at the almshouse had 
 worked so hard. 
 
 " You wait a minute," says Van. "/ // get rid 
 of it." 
 
 He took out his vest pocket memorandum book 
 and tore about ten pages into little squares. Then 
 he made numbers on these squares with a penciL 
 Half of these he put into his hat, and, the next 
 I knew, he was standing on a chair, waving the 
 bedquilt with one hand and the hat with t other. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," he shouts. " Here is 
 positively the last chance to secure this magnificent 
 er er lambrykin, made by the deserving poor 
 to cover the restless rich. Competition has been so 
 strong that no one person has been able to buy it. 
 The only solution would be a syndicate, and the 
 almshouse is opposed to trusts. Therefore I am 
 authorized to " then he bent down and whis 
 pered, " Mr. Morton, kindly give me whatever 
 small change you have left." 
 
 The minister looked puzzled, but he handed up 
 a half dollar. Van Brunt reaches into the hat and 
 takes out one of the folded slips of paper. 
 
 " Here you are, sir," says he. " Treasure that 
 as you would your life. Now, then, ladies and
 
 216 MR. PRATT 
 
 gentlemen, this is a raffle. The minister starts it. 
 Tickets are anything you please, provided it s 
 enough. Come early and avoid the rush." 
 
 There was a kind of gasp from all the church 
 people. The members of the sewing circle looked 
 at each other with the most horrified kind of faces. 
 The parson, Mr. Morton, run forward. 
 
 " Just a minute, Mr. Van Brunt, if you please" 
 he sings out. 
 
 But Van waved him away. The summer folks 
 come after them tickets like a whirlwind, laughing 
 and shouting and passing up dollar bills. Twa n t 
 hardly any time afore the hat was empty and the 
 Twin s jacket pocket was full of money. Then he 
 fills up the hat with more pieces of paper. 
 
 " These are duplicates of the numbers sold," 
 says he. " The drawing will now take place. 
 Here, Bill!" 
 
 He grabs a little shaver by the coat collar and 
 lifts him up to the chair. Old lady Patterson, the 
 deacon s wife, set up a scream. 
 
 " Stop ! " she yells. " My child shall not " 
 
 " It takes but a moment, madam," says Van, 
 waving to her, calm and easy. " Now, Julius 
 Caesar, please take one of those numbers from the 
 hat."
 
 THE LAWN FETE 217 
 
 The boy reddened up and grinned and looked 
 foolish, but he stuck a freckled paw in and took out 
 a piece of paper. 
 
 "Number fourteen," shouts Van Brunt. "Num 
 ber fourteen secures the the tapestry. Who s the 
 lucky one? " 
 
 Everybody unfolded their papers, but there 
 didn t seem to be any fourteen. Hartley had three, 
 but he wa n t in it. 
 
 " Number fourteen," Van calls. " Who is 
 fourteen? Mr. Morton, you began this. Where 
 is your ticket? " 
 
 The minister looked dreadfully troubled. 
 ;< Really," he stammered, " I I it was a mis- 
 
 T _ " 
 
 J_ 
 
 " JHere s yours, Mr. Morton," says a little girl. 
 " You dropped it on the ground." 
 
 The parson looked pretty sick. He reached for 
 it, but Van got it first. 
 
 " Number fourteen it is," he says. " Our es 
 teemed friend, the Reverend Mr. Morton, secures 
 the prize. That s as it should be. Three cheers 
 for Mr. Morton ! " 
 
 The summer folks give the cheers, but the 
 church folks looked pretty average wild, I thought. 
 
 I forget how much was in Van Brunt s pocket.
 
 ai8 MR. PRATT 
 
 That bedquilt fetched in enough money to pretty 
 nigh buy the poorhouse itself. 
 
 The Twins felt good. They figgered that 
 they d made a hit at that " lawn fete." 
 
 " Great success, my raffle idea, wasn t it, skip 
 per," says Van Brunt, on the way home. 
 
 I didn t answer right off. Eureka spoke up. 
 
 " Well," she says, " it sold the bedquilt, but I 
 wouldn t wonder if it made the new minister lose 
 his job. You see, twas gambling, and that church 
 is dreadful down on gambling. Mrs. Patterson 
 told me that she should have her husband call a 
 parish meeting right off. I guess you won t be 
 invited to no more sales this year." 
 
 And we wa n t. Poor Morton had an awful time 
 explaining, and the only way he could get out of it 
 was to lay it heavy on the Twins. He had to 
 preach a sermon giving gambling fits, and all 
 around town twas nothing but how dissipated and 
 wicked the Heavenlies was. We wa n t fit for 
 decent folks to associate with. 
 
 But I ain t been able to learn, even yet, that the 
 bedquilt money was returned to the ticket buyers. 
 
 Van got a long letter from Agnes Page a little 
 later, saying that she had heard of him as a " dis 
 turbing influence " and that she was shocked and
 
 THE LAWN FETE 219 
 
 grieved. He thought twas a great joke and didn t 
 seem to care much. Nate Scudder was glad of the 
 whole business. He didn t want nobody else to be 
 milking his own pet cows. 
 
 Me and Eureka was glad, too, in a way. We 
 judged that Van s being in disgrace with his girl 
 would help Hartley s side along. And in a few 
 days another idea begun to develop that, when I 
 found it out, seemed to me likely to help him more. 
 
 Eureka told me that she d seen a dress pattern 
 at the church sale that she wanted awful. I asked 
 her why she didn t buy it and she said twas two 
 dollars and a half and she couldn t afford it. Hart 
 ley heard her say it and he loafed out into the 
 kitchen and begun to ask questions, pumping 
 her, sort of quiet, to find out what she done 
 with her money. After she d gone home he says 
 to me 
 
 " Skipper, that girl is robbing herself to support 
 that old loafer, her father." 
 
 " That s right," says I. " It s my opinion that 
 she ain t never told him that she ain t getting that 
 extry two dollars a week. I guess she pays every 
 cent into the house." 
 
 " It s a shame! " says he. " Can t we make the 
 old vagabond earn his own living? "
 
 220 MR. PRATT. 
 
 "When you do," I says, "I ll believe that 
 black s the blonde shade of white. Making 
 Washy Sparrow work would be as big a miracle 
 as the loaves and fishes." 
 
 He thought a spell. " Well, I mean to look into 
 the matter," he says. " Sol, I want you to find out 
 who owns that apology for a house they live in. 
 Don t ask Eureka. We must keep it a secret from 
 her or she ll interfere. And we may as well not 
 tell Van, either. He s so careless that he might 
 give it away." 
 
 " All right," says I. " I ll ask Scudder. He 
 knows most all of everybody s business and Huldy 
 Ann knows the rest." 
 
 So when Nate come, after breakfast next morn 
 ing, I asked him. 
 
 "What do you want to know for?" says he, 
 suspicious as usual. 
 
 " Oh, nothing. Just curious, that s all." 
 
 "They ain t going to move out, are they?" 
 He seemed mighty interested. 
 
 " No, no! " says I. " Where d they move to? 
 Think they re going to Washington to visit the 
 President or the Diplomatic Corpse? " 
 
 " Well," he says, " you needn t get mad. I 
 didn t know but they might be coming over here.
 
 THE LAWN FETE 221 
 
 I don t mind telling you. Huldy Ann, my wife> 
 owns the place, if you want to know." 
 
 I was surprised. He was a regular sand-flea for 
 bobbing up where you didn t expect him. 
 
 " She does? " says I. " Say, Nate, for the land 
 sakes how much more of this country belongs to 
 you and Huldy? And how much did you pay 
 for it?" 
 
 He went on with a long rigmarole about a mort 
 gage and a second mortgage and "foreclosing to 
 protect himself," and so on. All I see In it was 
 more proof that lambs fooling with Nate Scudder 
 was likely to lose, not only wool, but hoofs, hide 
 and tallow. 
 
 When I told Hartley he seemed real pleased. 
 
 That makes it easy," he says. "Scudder will 
 accommodate me by doing a little favor, won t 
 he?" 
 
 "Sure thing!" says I, sarcastic. "Ain t he 
 been accommodating you ever since you struck 
 town ? " 
 
 " Yes," he says, " he has. Scudder is a generous 
 chap." 
 
 And he meant it, too ! Why the good Lord lets 
 such simple innocents as him and his chum run 
 around loose for is but there ! No doubt He has
 
 222 MR. PRATT 
 
 his reasons. And what would become of the sum 
 mer hotels without that kind? 
 
 Him and Nate was pretty thick for the next few 
 days. Something was up, though as yet I wa n t in 
 the secret. Hartley made one or two trips to the 
 village and he took neither me nor Van with him. 
 He asked me where the doctor lived and a lot more 
 questions. 
 
 Van Brunt, too, was getting pretty confidential 
 with Nate. I caught the two of em off alone by 
 the barn or somewheres quite a good many times. 
 They was always whispering earnest, and when I 
 hove in sight they d break away and act guilty. 
 There was something up there, too, and again 
 I wa n t in with the elect. I begun to feel 
 slighted. 
 
 But in a little while Hartley s secret come out. 
 One day Van took a notion to go down to Half 
 Moon Neck gunning after peeps. He wanted 
 Hartley to go with him, but Martin said no. He 
 said he didn t feel like it, somehow. Why didn t 
 Van put it off ? But Van wa n t the put-off kind. 
 He was going and going right then. He wanted 
 Scudder to sail him down, but Nate was too busy, 
 so he hired Eureka s brother, Lycurgus. The two 
 sailed away in the Dora Bassett to be gone all
 
 THE LAWN FETE 223 
 
 night. I wa n t invited. The Twins had no use 
 for me as a gunning pilot. 
 
 That afternoon late Hartley comes over from 
 the main, rowed by Scudder. The pair of em 
 seemed mighty tickled about something. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Hartley," says Nate, "we ll see you 
 to-morrow morning. It ll work all right; you see." 
 
 "Will he work?" laughs Hartley. "That s 
 the question." 
 
 " I cal late he ll make the bluff," snickers Scud 
 der. " I don t know where he ll sleep nights if he 
 don t. Land of love ! Did you see his face when 
 you sprung it on him ? Haw ! haw ! " 
 
 When we got to the house Hartley calls in 
 Eureka. 
 
 " You re going to stay here to-night," he says to 
 her. " Mr. Pratt and I have an errand ashore 
 early in the morning and Mr. Van Brunt will be 
 back soon after, and hungry, I imagine. So you 
 must be ready with his breakfast. It s all right. 
 Your father understands." 
 
 Eureka was some surprised, but she said she d 
 stay. 
 
 All through supper Hartley was laughing to 
 himself. Just afore bedtime he calls me out on the 
 porch.
 
 224 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Sol," he says, " what would surprise you most 
 in this world? " 
 
 To see Mr. Van Brunt shoot at a bird and hit 
 it," says I. Leaving me out of all these gunning 
 trips jarred my pride considerable. 
 
 " Humph! " he says. " He shot a dozen the 
 other day." 
 
 Yes, but I didn t see him shoot em." 
 
 He laughed. " You countrymen are jealous 
 creatures," he says. " Well, this is more surpris 
 ing than that. What would you say if Mr. Wash 
 ington Sparrow consented to go to work? " 
 
 I looked at him. " I wouldn t say nothing," I 
 says. " I d send for a straight-jacket. What are 
 you talking about? " 
 
 He turned around in his chair. 
 
 You remember I told you I was going to try 
 to make him? " he says. " Well, I think I ve suc 
 ceeded. Come with me to-morrow morning and 
 see. I m doing it for the sake of that plucky 
 daughter of his, and it has required some engi 
 neering and diplomacy. But I think I win. Don t 
 mention a word to Eureka, though." 
 
 I promised to keep mum. I tried to get him to 
 tell me more, but he wouldn t. " Wait and see " 
 was all I could get out of him.
 
 THE LAWN FETE 225 
 
 I turned in a kind of trance, as you might say. 
 Washy Sparrow work ! Well, I d have to see him 
 doing it with my own eyes. I wouldn t believe 
 even a tintype of the performance if twas took by 
 Saint Peter.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 
 
 WE left the Island early next day. I 
 rowed to the main and anchored the 
 skiff. Then me and Hartley walked 
 up to the Neck road. I didn t ask no questions. 
 He could speak first or be still. I d had my dose. 
 Nobody can call me nosey. 
 
 He did speak first. " Well, skipper? " he says, 
 finally. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Hartley," says I. 
 "Why don t you ask me what my scheme is? 
 Aren t you curious? " 
 
 " Scheme? " says I. " Scheme? I ain t much 
 of a schemer, myself. Nice weather we re having, 
 ain t it." 
 
 He laughed. " Sol," says he. " I like you. 
 You re the right sort you and Scudder." 
 
 Drat him I Why did he want to spoil it all by 
 that last? 
 
 226
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 227 
 
 " Virtue must be its own reward, then, far s 
 I m concerned," I says, pretty average dry. " I 
 don t seem to be getting no other kind. Pity me 
 and Nate couldn t divide the substantiate more 
 equal." 
 
 His face clouded right up. "Money!" he 
 says, disgusted, kicking a stick out of his way. 
 " Don t you for one minute believe that money 
 means happiness." 
 
 " All right," I says. " I ain t contradicting you. 
 You ve had more experience with it than I have. 
 Sometimes it seems as if I could manage to bear 
 up under a couple of thousand or so without shed 
 ding more n a bucket of tears; but I m open to 
 conviction like the feller that said he stole the 
 horse, but they d got to show proof enough to 
 satisfy him." 
 
 Twas some minutes afore he come out of his 
 blue fit. Then he says 
 
 " The scheme is this: I determined to see what 
 could be done to make things easier for the Spar 
 row girl. The only solution seemed to be the get 
 ting rid of papa." 
 
 " If you d waited long enough," I says; " maybe 
 his consumptive dyspepsy would have saved you 
 the trouble."
 
 22 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 " I wish I had your faith," says he. 
 
 " You have. The same kind. Washy s is dif 
 ferent. His doctrine is faith without work. Go 
 on." 
 
 " So I tried to think of some way to bring it 
 about. When you told me that Scudder owned 
 the Sparrow place I saw my chance. Scudder and 
 I consulted. He was willing to lose his tenants 
 provided he didn t lose the rent. The rent was 
 nothing; I promised to make that good until our 
 season here was over and Eureka could return 
 home. But I made it clear that when she did re 
 turn home her father mustn t return with her. He 
 must be provided for somewhere else. Then we 
 saw the doctor and Morton, the minister. Morton 
 was somewhat prejudiced, owing to Van s raffle, 
 but he s a pretty decent fellow and seemed to think 
 what he called a good action on my part might 
 offset even a bedquilt gamble. So between us we 
 fixed it up. 
 
 " Old Sparrow is offered a job as general shov 
 eller and brick carrier over there at the hotel. 
 They re building a new addition, you know. 
 Brown, the manager, said he d take him on, as a 
 favor to me. He has been offered the place. If 
 he doesn t accept, why, out he goes. Scudder has
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 229 
 
 told him he can t stay in his house any longer. You 
 should have seen him whe-n we broke the news last 
 night." 
 
 " S pose he don t accept," I asks. " What about 
 the children?" 
 
 " They ll be looked out for. Lycurgus will 
 board at Scudder s. Eureka will stay with us. 
 Editha and the baby will be roomed and fed by the 
 minister. The others are to have good boarding 
 places and go to school. Every one is willing to 
 help the family, but they won t keep the old rascal. 
 It has worked out beautifully." 
 
 " Hold on a minute," says I. " It s all right, 
 as a plan. But Eureka won t let her dad suffer, 
 even though she knows there ain t nothing really 
 the matter with him. And who s going to pay all 
 the young ones board? She can t." 
 
 " I ll attend to that," says he, impatient. " It 
 isn t enough to signify. And it will be all settled 
 before Eureka knows it. The old man will take 
 the job." 
 
 " I ll bet a cooky he don t," I says. " But it ll 
 make him scratch gravel one way or nether. Bully 
 for you, Mr. Hartley ! I m glad I m along to see 
 the fun." 
 
 u The fun was last night," says he. " Caesar!
 
 23 o MR. PRATT 
 
 how he did cough and groan. And then swear J 
 But here s the rest of the crowd." 
 
 They was waiting for us on the corner. Dr. 
 Penrose was there, and Mr. Morton, and Cap n 
 Benijah Poundberry, chairmen of selectmen, and 
 Scudder, and Peter T. Brown, manager of the Old 
 Home House. They was all laughing, and think 
 ing the whole thing a big joke. 
 
 " Mr. Hartley," says the doctor, " I wish you 
 were to be a permanent resident. There are a few 
 more cases of this kind I d like to have you tackle." 
 
 We walked on together the rest of the way, 
 laughing and talking. Nobody took the business 
 serious at all. They all thought Washy would go 
 to work when he found twas either that or get out 
 and hustle for a place to put his head in. 
 
 We marched into the Sparrow yard like a 
 Fourth of July parade. Hartley knocked at the 
 kitchen door. Editha opened it. 
 
 " Is your father in ? " asked the Twin. 
 
 " Yes, sir," says Editha. " He s in. I s pose 
 you d like to see him, wouldn t you? Pa, here s 
 Mr. Hartley." 
 
 There was a groan from the dining-room. Then 
 some coughs, like a string of small earthquakes. 
 Finally a dreadful weak voice orders us to step
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 231 
 
 right in. The rest of the crowd went on ahead. I 
 stopped for a jiffy to speak to Editha. 
 
 " Where s the rest of the children? " I asks. 
 
 " I sent em over to the grocery store on an 
 errand," she says. " I thought you d be along 
 pretty soon. They took the baby with em." 
 
 " How s your dad been since he heard the 
 news? " says I. 
 
 " Oh, he was going on terrible last night. Had 
 nerve spells and fired the chairs around and car 
 ried on so we was all scared. But he went out 
 about nine o clock with a letter he d wrote, and 
 this morning he seems better. Say, Mr. Pratt," 
 she whispers, eager, " is it true that me and Dewey 
 are going to live with the minister s folks? " 
 
 "Maybe so," says I. "Why?" 
 
 " Oh ! I hope so," she says. " Then I could go 
 to school, and pa wouldn t be round to jaw us, 
 and Reky d have a little rest. She does need it so." 
 
 Think of a twelve-year-old young one talking 
 like that. But the children was all grown-ups in 
 that family. 
 
 I went into the dining-room. The delegation 
 was gathered on one side of the table, and Washy 
 was crumpled up in his rocker on the other. He 
 looked some scared.
 
 23 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Well, Mr. Sparrow," Hartley was beginning 
 when I come in, " have you made up your mind 
 about the position which this gentleman has been 
 kind enough to offer you? " He pointed to Brown 
 as he said it. 
 
 " Hey? " asks the invalid, feeble. 
 
 Martin said it all over again ; he had to stop in 
 the middle so s to give the candidate for the job 
 a chance to cough and turn loose a few groans. 
 
 And all that Washy said when the Twin had 
 finished was another " Hey? " 
 
 Hartley begun to lose patience. You heard 
 what I said," he snaps, sharp. " Have you made 
 up your mind? " 
 
 " Don t get mad, Mr. Hartley," pleads the suf 
 ferer, sad and earnest. " Please don t. My 
 nerves is dreadful weak this morning and I ain t 
 able to stand it. I ve had coughing spells ever 
 since I got out of bed. Well, I won t have to 
 linger here much longer. Pretty soon I ll be laid 
 
 away, and " 
 
 "Have you made up your mind?" interrupts 
 Martin. " Answer quick. The time of these gen 
 tlemen is valuable." 
 
 " Don t, Mr. Hartley. Please don t. How can 
 you cruelize a poor feller this way? Don t you
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 233 
 
 know that any kind of stir and rumpus is the worst 
 thing for me? Any doctor 11 tell you that " 
 
 " Bosh ! " Twas Doctor Penrose that said it, 
 and he stepped forward. " Bosh! " says he again. 
 
 " What s that? Why, if it ain t my old friend 
 the doctor! I never noticed you was there. I m 
 awful glad to see you, Doc. Seems just like old 
 times. You ll excuse my not getting up, won t 
 you? I ve w asted away so since you was here 
 that " 
 
 " Bosh! " says the doctor again. " You re fat 
 ter than ever. There s nothing in the world the 
 matter with you but pure downright dog laziness. 
 Don t cough on my account. I don t care to 
 hear it." 
 
 Washy looked at him as reproachful and goody- 
 goody as a saint. 
 
 " I forgive you for them words, doctor," says 
 he. " I realize I ain t been able to pay my bill to 
 you, and so I can make allowances." 
 
 " Allowances ! Why, you confounded impu 
 dent loafer! I ve a good mind to " 
 
 He was purple in the face. Peter Brown 
 caught his arm. 
 
 "Ain t this a little off the subject?" he says. 
 " Look here, Sparrow. We need a good husky
 
 2 34 MR. PRATT 
 
 man about your size at the hotel. We ll pay him 
 ten dollars a week. I ve offered you the job. Are 
 you going to take it? " 
 
 " There ain t nothing in the world I should like 
 better, Mr. Brown. I like to work, and " 
 
 " All right, then. Get on your hat and come 
 along." 
 
 "Come along! Why, how you talk ! If I was 
 to stir out of this house twould " 
 
 Twas Scudder s turn. " You ll have to stir 
 mighty quick," says he. " I won t have no do- 
 nothing tramps in a house of mine. Either take 
 this chance or out you go next Saturday, bag and 
 baggage." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Scudder! Why, Nate! How can 
 you talk so ! Just for a little matter of rent. You 
 don t need it. Ain t you been telling me that you 
 had a couple of soft rich folks over to Horsefoot 
 Bar that was paying you a good living and more, 
 too, all by themselves. Don t you remember you 
 said " 
 
 " Shut up ! " Twas Scudder who got purple 
 now. It looked to me like the invalid was having 
 all the fun. He seemed to be expecting something 
 and playing for time. I guess Hartley thought so 
 too, for he says :
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 235 
 
 " That s enough of this. It s plain that he 
 doesn t intend to accept. Mr. Scudder, you have 
 given him formal notice. Come on." 
 
 Then Washy broke down. He sniffed and half 
 cried and wanted to know things. The work 
 would kill him in a day or so, of course, but he 
 didn t mind that. When he thought of his poor 
 fatherless children 
 
 " The children will be provided for," says Mar 
 tin. " I told you that. Mr. Morton will care for 
 Editha and the baby." 
 
 "Mr. Morton? Morton? Seems to me I ve 
 heard that name afore. Ain t he the gambler? 
 The one that come near being run out of town for 
 stealing a bedquilt from the poorhouse, or some 
 thing like that ? Is he the man to trust with inno 
 cent little children? " 
 
 There it was again. The minister was red as a 
 beet and stammering about " impertinence " and 
 " blackguardism." I thought he d lick that con 
 sumptive right then and there. It took another 
 five minutes to calm him down. And so far we 
 hadn t gained an inch. 
 
 And just then a horse and buggy come rattling 
 into the yard. The horse was all over lather, like 
 he d been drove hard, and the buggy was white
 
 23 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 with dust. Everybody looked out of the window. 
 Sparrow looked and his face brightened up. I 
 cal late twas exactly what he had been hoping and 
 waiting for. Martin Hartley looked and his eyes 
 and mouth opened. So did mine. 
 
 Twas Lord James that was driving the buggy, 
 and there was a young woman with him. The 
 young woman was Agnes Page. 
 
 Agnes jumped from the step and run to the 
 kitchen door. In spite of the dust and her clothes 
 being rumpled and her hat shook over to one side 
 she was as pretty as a picture. The next minute 
 she was in the room, staring solemn at all us men. 
 And her eyes seemed to look right through a feller. 
 
 " Why, Agnes Miss Page 1 " exclaimed Hart 
 ley. Why are you here ? What s the matter? " 
 
 She didn t answer him. Just turned to Washy. 
 And says she 
 
 "Am I in time, Mr. Sparrow? I didn t get 
 your letter until nearly nine, because James was 
 delayed at the office. But I hurried right over. I 
 was so afraid I would be too late. Am I ? " 
 
 The invalid looked at her. And, if he d been 
 the picture of misery afore, he was a whole pano 
 rama of it now. He coughed afore he answered. 
 She shivered, kind of, at that cough, and I don t
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 237 
 
 wonder. If ever there was a graveyard quick-step, 
 Washy Sparrow s cough was it. 
 
 " No, ma am," says he. " I guess not, but I 
 don t know. The shock of it, and and all, has 
 pretty nigh finished me up, I m afraid. I don t 
 cal late I ll pull through, but I may. Let s hope 
 for the best, anyhow. But, ma am, if you d heard 
 the things that s been said to me ! " 
 
 She whirled around on us and her eyes flashed 
 chain lightning. 
 
 " Aren t you ashamedf " she says. " Great 
 strong men, every one of you, and all banded to 
 gether to torture a poor helpless invalid." 
 
 A feller s conscience is the biggest fool part of 
 his insides. Now I knew that what we d been 
 doing was exactly the right thing to do, but I felt 
 as mean and small as if I d been caught stealing 
 eggs. I kind of shrivelled up, as you might say, 
 and tried to scrouge back into the corner. Maybe 
 I d have got there, only the rest of the crowd was 
 trying to do the same thing. 
 
 All but Hartley. He was a lot set back, but he 
 spoke up prompt. 
 
 " Miss Page," said he, " I m sure you don t 
 understand. We " 
 
 She was back at him afore he d begun.
 
 23 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 " I think that is exactly what I do under 
 stand," she says. " At any rate, I mean to under 
 stand thoroughly. Mr. Sparrow, what have they 
 said to you? " 
 
 Washy cleared his throat. When he answered 
 twas in a sort of beg-pardon voice. You could 
 see how he hated to speak ill of anybody. He 
 wouldn t hurt nobody s feelings for the world. 
 Bless him ! he was a cute shyster, if ever there was 
 one. 
 
 " It s like I wrote you, ma am," says he. 
 " They ve offered me a place to go to work, and 
 I ve been awful tempted to take it. I want to take 
 it. My land! how I want to! But I don t feel 
 able to dig cellars. I wouldn t last at it more n a 
 few days and then what would become of my fath 
 erless children with nobody to look after em? 
 And because I think of these things and can t bring 
 myself to to passing away from em so soon, 
 I m going to be put out of my house and home. 
 
 My little home, that I ve thought so much of " 
 
 He had to stop and wipe his eyes. Agnes eyes 
 were wet, too, and her feet patted the floor. " But 
 why?" says she. "Why?" 
 
 " I don t know that is, for sure, ma am. You 
 see I ain t been able to earn nothing for some time.
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 239 
 
 Eureka, poor girl, she s had to look out for us all. 
 And I b lieve the doctor there, his bill ain t been 
 all paid; and we owe Mr. Scudder some rent; and 
 I s pose likely Eureka would be able to give more 
 of her time to the Island work, and maybe for less 
 pay, if- -" 
 
 " I see," says Miss Page, scornful. " I see. 
 And so, for a few dollars you are to be turned out 
 of your home. You, a poor sick man ! Oh I I can 
 hardly believe there are such people in the world. 
 And yet, I have had some experience." 
 
 She flashed a look at Martin as she said it. He 
 turned white under his sunburn. 
 
 " Miss Page," he said, " you do not understand. 
 I must insist that you hear our reasons for this pro 
 ceeding." 
 
 " It is not necessary," she says, cold as ice. " I 
 have heard enough." 
 
 The minister plucked up spunk to speak. But 
 she snapped him up short as pie crust. Then / 
 tried it and got my medicine. 
 
 " Mr. Sparrow," says she, " iet them do their 
 worst. The children shall come to my school. 
 As for you, I mean to " Then she turns to 
 me. 
 
 "Does Mr. Van Brunt know of this?" she
 
 24 o MR. PRATT 
 
 asks. Course I couldn t say nothing but I believed 
 he didn t. 
 
 " Thank goodness ! " she says. And just then 
 who should walk in but Van himself. 
 
 " Hello ! " says he, surprised. " Eureka told 
 me you were at the village, Martin, so Lycurgus 
 rowed me across. One of the children said you 
 were here. What is this, a surprise party? And 
 Agnes, too ! Am I too late for the refreshments?" 
 
 He smiled, but nobody else did. 
 
 " Edward," says the Page girl, " will you do a 
 great favor for me? " 
 
 " Yours to command, of course," he answers, 
 puzzled. 
 
 " Will you find a boarding place for Mr. Spar 
 row?" 
 
 "Who? Eureka s father? Why, certainly. 
 What s the trouble? Is it time for the Sparrows 
 to nest again? He can come over to the Island 
 with us. There s plenty of room. Hey, Martin? " 
 
 " Never mind your friend, please," says Miss 
 Page. " If he comes will you protect him and 
 treat him kindly? Thank you. Then that is set 
 tled. Gentlemen, I believe there is no necessity 
 for your further inconveniencing yourselves. Your 
 several bills will be paid."
 
 "THE BEST LAID PLANS" 241 
 
 I looked at the doctor and he looked at Pound- 
 berry. The minister and Brown and Scudder 
 looked at each other. Maybe it seems queer that 
 we didn t speak up and make her hear our side 
 the right side. It does seem strange now, I m free 
 to say, but, as for me, I couldn t have faced her 
 then no more than the boy with the jam round his 
 mouth could face his ma. 
 
 Hartley was the only plucky one. He says, 
 swallowing once, as if he was gulping down his 
 pride, " Miss Page," says he, " you are treating 
 me most unfair. To judge without a hearing is 
 not " 
 
 She held up her hand. There was a kid glove 
 on it, and even then I noticed how well that glove 
 fitted. 
 
 " Mr. Pratt," she says to me, " I want to ask 
 you one question. Who is responsible for this? 
 Whose idea was it? " 
 
 I hemmed and hawed. The other fellers might 
 not have meant to do it, but somehow their eyes 
 all swung round to Hartley. 
 
 " I see," she says. " I thought as much. There 
 is a proverb, I believe, concerning what is bred in 
 the bone. Thank heaven, to me there are some 
 things in this world which outweigh my personal
 
 242 
 
 MR. PRATT 
 
 convenience and money. You needn t answer, 
 Mr. Pratt. He pays your salary, I believe." 
 
 My, but she said it bitter and scornful. Hart 
 ley was white afore, but now he was like chalk. 
 He bowed to her, stuck his chin into the air and 
 marched out of that house as proud and chilly as 
 a walking icicle. The rest of us, all bat Van and 
 Agnes, trailed along astern, like a parcel of kicked 
 dogs. 
 
 Washy sung out to us as we went. " Good day, 
 gentlemen," he says; " I hope you ll come and see 
 me sometimes while I m over to Horsefoot. I 
 forg\ve you free and clear. I haven t no doubt 
 you meant for the best." 
 
 The doctor and the rest was brave enough when 
 we was out of Agnes Page s sight and hearing. 
 They was talking big about what they d do to 
 Sparrow when they had a chance. But I noticed 
 none of em said much to Hartley. He marched 
 ahead, stiff and white and glum. Peter Brown s 
 last word to me was this : 
 
 " Pratt," says he, " if you see a hole in the sand 
 anywheres tween here and the beach, mark my 
 name around it, will you ? The way I feel now I d 
 like to crawl into it and pull it after me. One 
 about the size of a ten-cent piece would do, and
 
 THE BEST LAID PLANS" 243 
 
 even then I guess there d be room and to spare for 
 the rest of this gang." 
 
 When I got down to the skiff Van comes run 
 ning to catch up. He caught me by the arm and 
 hauled me to one side. 
 
 " Skipper," says he, " what the devil s the mat 
 ter?" 
 
 I told him in as few words as I could. He 
 roared. " That s all right," he says. " I ll fix 
 that." 
 
 He went over to his chum and slapped him on 
 the back. 
 
 " Brace up, old man," he says, " it s a mistake, 
 and a mighty good joke on you, isn t it? Of 
 course I ll square you with Agnes." 
 
 Hartley turned on him so quick that he jumped. 
 
 " If you please," says Martin, cutting and clear 
 as a razor, " you will perhaps be good enough to 
 mind your own business. If you mention one 
 word concerning me to that lady you and I part 
 company. Is that thoroughly plain? " 
 
 Twas the first time I d ever heard them two 
 have a hard word. The trip to Ozone Island was 
 as joyful as a funeral.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 ITHE WHITE PLAGUE 
 
 THE fat was all in the fire. Hartley s great 
 scheme that he thought was going to help 
 Eureka, and that I cal lated would be one 
 more big boost for him in the Page girl s eyes, had 
 gone to pot to see the kettle bile. Instead of get 
 ting rid of Papa Sparrow, it had fetched that old 
 hypocrite right over to eat and sleep and groan 
 under our very noses. And, instead of helping 
 Martin s love business, it had knocked the keel 
 right out of it and left him stranded with a bigger 
 reputation than ever for cold-blooded, mercenary 
 money grabbing. Sweet mess, wa n t it? 
 
 I snum, I did hate to tell Eureka ! And yet of 
 course she was bound to find it out for herself. 
 When she went home that night, thinks I, " I ll 
 catch it to-morrow morning." And, sure enough, 
 next morning she was laying for me. 
 
 She come out to the garden, where I was trying 
 to fool myself into hoping that six inches of green 
 
 244
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 245 
 
 string, with a leaf or two hung along it, might bear 
 a cucumber some day, and down she sets in the 
 heap of dry seaweed by the pig-pen. 
 
 " Now, then," says she, sharp, " I want to know 
 all about it." 
 
 " Oh! " says I, looking innocent at the cucum 
 ber string; " I ain t give up hope, by no manner of 
 means. If the loam don t blow off, and I m able 
 to lug water enough, we ll have as much as one jar 
 of two-inch pickles off this plantation by the time 
 the Heavenlies are ready to quit." 
 
 " Humph! " she sniffs. " You ought to pickle 
 that understanding of yours. It s too fresh and 
 green to keep long, out in this sun. Now you look 
 me in the eye and tell me all about it." 
 
 "About what?" I asks, not looking at her, 
 however. 
 
 " About the doings at our house yesterday. 
 Why is Pa coming over here to live? And what 
 makes Mr. Hartley so blue and cross? And how 
 come that Agnes Page to be mixed up in our 
 affairs ? Out with it. It s my family business, and 
 I want to know." 
 
 So I had to tell her. She was pretty mad, and 
 mighty sarcastic.
 
 24 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 " I thought so," she snaps. " Didn t you know 
 no better than that ? Didn t you know that a girl 
 who s as far gone with charity as Miss Page is 
 would be sure to go and see Pa and want to do for 
 him? I ve found out that she s been giving him 
 money for medicine and things for over a week. 
 Why, a sentimental city woman is Pa s best holt; 
 he can tie em in bow knots round his finger. I 
 s pose you thought you could fetch Hartley and 
 his girl together all by yourself. Well, you ve 
 done a good job. Now I ve got to begin it all 
 over again." 
 
 " It ain t no use now," I says. " She s down 
 on him for good." 
 
 "Rubbish! Don t talk so foolish. It ll be my 
 turn next, and my plans won t go backside front 
 wards, like a crab. And I ve got to fix Pa, too. 
 I ve been working out a notion about him for two 
 or three days. I guess it s time to be starting it 
 a-going." 
 
 She wouldn t tell me what the notion was. 
 Twas her turn to have secrets. She seemed 
 pleased to have Editha and the children go over 
 to the Fresh Air School, because there they could 
 be studying their lessons with somebody to look 
 after em. She liked the idea of Lycurgus hiring
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 247 
 
 out to Nate Scudder, too, though she did say that 
 she guessed he wouldn t wear out his pants pock 
 ets carting his wages around. 
 
 Next day she stayed at home and shut up the 
 house, and that night she and Washy come to the 
 Island to stay all the time. They had rooms in 
 the back part of the house, three flights up, and 
 Scudder sold the Twins bedding and truck enough 
 to more than make up for losing the rent of the 
 Sparrow house. Van put the wax wreath and 
 Marcellus s picture and the rest of Nate s " pres 
 ents " up in the invalid s room. He said he 
 thought they was kind of appropriate. Washy 
 didn t mind. He said they was lovely and made 
 him think of his " future state." Cording to my 
 notion the cook-stove would have been better for 
 that. 
 
 Martin and his chum was pretty cool to each 
 other for a while, but they soon got over it. 
 Hartley was different, though, from what he d 
 been afore. He was more reckless and his " don t 
 care " manner was back again; only, now that his 
 health was so good, it showed in other ways. 
 
 The two of em took to raising the very Old 
 Boy. They must be up to something all the time. 
 The Island wa n t big enough to hold em and they
 
 24 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 was crowded over into the village, so to speak. 
 They got mixed up with some of the men boarders 
 at the hotel and twas "Whoop ! " and " Hooray ! " 
 all the time. 
 
 They and the boarders got horses out of the 
 livery stable and had races right through the main 
 street; going it licketty-cut and scandalizing the 
 neighbors and scaring old women into conniption 
 fits. Deacon Patterson had a new horse and the 
 Deacon happened to be setting in his buggy in 
 front of the Boston Dry Goods and Variety Store 
 when the racers went by. The racket scared the 
 critter and he bolted, and there was the Deacon 
 going down the road in the middle of the race, 
 hollering " Whoa ! " to beat the cars, with his hat 
 off and his hair a-flying. Lots of the sewing circle 
 women saw him and twas town talk for weeks. 
 The Deacon was going to have the Twins took up 
 and sent to jail, but he didn t. He prayed for em 
 in meeting instead. 
 
 Van Brunt got another letter from Agnes pretty 
 quick after the race. She d heard about it and she 
 give him fits. Why was it necessary for Mm she 
 didn t mention Martin to shock the community 
 and public opinion ? She wanted to know that and 
 other things similar. He read a little of the let-
 
 " [THE WHITE PLAGUE 249 
 
 ter to Hartley and that s how I heard it. I d have 
 heard more, probably, only Hartley got up and 
 walked off. And he was blue as a whetstone for 
 the rest of the day. 
 
 I guess the Talford girl wa n t quite so shocked. 
 Anyhow me and Van met her up in the village one 
 afternoon and she wanted to know all about the 
 race. 
 
 " I should like to have seen that old Mr. Pat 
 terson," says she. " He is always so very sol 
 emn and pompous. It must have been killingly 
 funny." 
 
 Van told her the yarn, trimming it up fine as 
 usual, and they laughed and had lots of fun over 
 it. He went around with her shopping all the 
 afternoon and I was forgot altogether. I didn t 
 mind. I don t hanker for famousness, and the 
 way the small boys followed Van Brunt around 
 and pointed at him and snickered was too popular 
 altogether. I cal late he d been preached up to 
 them young ones as a horrible example till they 
 envied him most as much* as if he was a pirate. 
 
 Ozone Island was chock full of secrets and 
 whisperings by this time. Van kept up his little 
 side talks and backyard confabs with Scudder; and 
 Hartley seemed to have caught the disease. I see
 
 J5 o MR. PRATT 
 
 him and Nate looking mysterious at each other 
 and meeting together in out of the way places time 
 and time again. And the mail was getting heavier 
 and there was half burned telegram envelopes in 
 the stove ashes more n once. But nobody ever 
 mentioned getting a telegram. 
 
 There was so much reading matter round the 
 place now that Eureka was in her glory. She read 
 when she got breakfast, with a book propped up 
 on the kitchen table. She read when she dusted, 
 holding the dust cloth in one hand and a magazine 
 in t other. She read when she ate. She went up 
 stairs at night reading; and I wouldn t wonder if 
 she read in her sleep. 
 
 Washy had been pretty decent, for him, for the 
 first week after he landed in his new quarters. 
 But his decency didn t last long. He begun to fuss 
 and find fault and groan and growl. Miss Page 
 sent him nice things to eat and he always ate em 
 every speck himself and medicine, which he took 
 about a spoonful of and then said twa n t helping 
 him none and give it up. He yelled for Eureka 
 every few minutes and she d have to drop her 
 work and run and wait on him. He was a pesky 
 outrage and everybody hated him, including Van, 
 who said that he was a common nuisance and if
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 251 
 
 \waVt for his promise to Agnes he d abate him 
 with a shot-gun. 
 
 One day Eureka comes out on the porch where 
 the Heavenlies was setting, and says she : 
 
 " Mr. Van Brunt, would you and Mr. Hartley 
 be willing for me to cure Pa? " 
 
 "Cure him?" asks Van, surprised. "Cure 
 him? Yes, indeed. Or kill him either," he adds, 
 under his breath. 
 
 Hartley didn t say nothing. He never spoke to 
 old man Sparrow now nor of him, far s that went. 
 
 " All right," Eureka says. " Thank you." 
 
 " What s the cook got up her sleeve concerning 
 the afflicted parent? " asks Van of me. 
 
 " I don t know," says I. And I didn t. 
 
 That afternoon Eureka got me to help her lug 
 the haircloth lounge from the front parlor out to 
 the spare shed, the one we didn t use. Twas a 
 little ten by six building that Marcellus had for a 
 tool house, and the shingles was falling off and the 
 roof and sides full of cracks and knotholes. We 
 set the lounge down in there. 
 
 " What on earth? " says I. 
 
 " I m going to tell you," says she. " Mr. Hart 
 ley said I could have the lounge." 
 
 Then she told me what her plan was. Twas a
 
 25 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 mighty good one, and I promised to help along. I 
 laughed over it till supper time. 
 
 That evening we was all in the dining-room. 
 The weather had changed lately and the nights 
 was chilly and windy. Twa n t pleasant enough 
 for the Twins to be on the porch, and Washy had 
 come down from his room and was all hunched up 
 in front of the stove in the kitchen. Eureka was 
 just finishing the dishes. All of a sudden I heard 
 her say: 
 
 " Pa, I don t s pose you feel well enough to go 
 to work?" 
 
 I could hear her dad s feet come down off the 
 stove hearth with a thump. He started to speak, 
 and then, remembering himself, he coughed, as 
 hollow as an empty biler. 
 
 " I asked," Eureka goes on, " because I saw 
 Mr. Brown yesterday and he said you could have 
 that job at the hotel any time you wanted it." 
 
 " Hotel job ! " hollers Washy. " How long do 
 you cal late I d last lugging bricks and digging? 
 Ain t you satisfied to see me slipping into the grave 
 day by day, without wanting to shove me under 
 all at once ? " 
 
 " No, I knew you wa n t fit to work. But Pa, 
 I ve been hoping to find a way to cure you some
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 2$3 
 
 day, and now I ve learned the way. And I m 
 going to try it." 
 
 Washy coughed again. I was listening with all 
 my ears, and I see the Twins doing the same. 
 
 " Cure? Humph! " sniffs the old man. " I m 
 past curing, darter. Don t you worry about me. 
 Let me die, that s all; let me die. Only I hope 
 twon t be too slow. Cure ! The doctors give me 
 up long spell ago." 
 
 " Doctors give you up! What doctors? No 
 body but Penrose, and you ve said more n a thou 
 sand times that he wa n t no doctor. I ve been 
 reading up lately and I know how real doctors cure 
 folks." 
 
 " It ain t no use " begins her dad. She cut 
 him short. 
 
 " Your case is kind of mixed-up, Pa," says she, 
 " I m free to say, owing to your consumption be 
 ing complicated with nervous dyspepsy. But I ve 
 made up my mind to start in on your lungs and 
 kind of work round to your stomach. You listen 
 to this." 
 
 She come in the dining-room and took a maga 
 zine out of the chest of drawers. Then she opened 
 to a place where the leaf was turned down, and 
 .went back to the kitchen.
 
 254 MR. PRATT. 
 
 " Consumption, Pa," she says, " ain t cured by 
 medicine no more. Not by the real doctors, it 
 ain t. You say yourself that all Miss Page s medi 
 cine ain t done you no good. Fresh air night and 
 day is what s needed, and you don t get it here by 
 the stove or shut up in your room. You ought to 
 live out door. Yes, and sleep there, too." 
 
 "Sleep out door? What kind of talk is that? 
 Be you crazy or " 
 
 " Don t screech so, Pa," says Eureka, cold as 
 an ice chest. " Folks over on the main will think 
 this place is on fire. Listen to this. Here s a 
 piece about consumption in this magazine. They 
 call it the White Plague. I ll read you some 
 of it." 
 
 The Heavenlies was in a broad grin by this 
 time. Washy kept yelling that he didn t want to 
 hear no such foolishness, but his daughter spelt out 
 different parts of the magazine piece. It told 
 about how dangerous shut-up rooms and " con 
 fined atmospheres " was, and about what it 
 called " open air sanitariums " and outdoor bed 
 rooms. 
 
 "See, Pa," says she; "look at this picture. 
 Here s a tent where two consumptive folks lived 
 and slept for over a year. Twas thirty below
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 255 
 
 zero there sometimes, but it cured em. And see 
 this one. Twas forty-five below where that shanty 
 was, but " 
 
 The invalid jumped out of his chair and come 
 bolting into the dining-room. 
 
 " Take it away! " he yells, frantic. " If you 
 expect me to believe such lies as them you re " 
 
 " They ain t lies," says Eureka, following him 
 up, and speaking calm and easy. " They re true; 
 ain t they, Mr. Van Brunt? " 
 
 Van smothered his grins and nodded. 
 
 True as gospel," he says. 
 
 " Yes, course they be. And Pa, I m going to 
 cure you or die a-trying. The old tool-house out 
 back of the barn is just the place for you. It s full 
 of holes and cracks, so there ll be plenty of fresh 
 air. And I took the sofy out there this very day. 
 You can sleep there nights and set in the sun day 
 times. You mustn t come in the house at all. I 
 mean to keep you outdoor all winter, and 
 then " 
 
 The Heavenlies just howled and so did I. 
 Washy Sparrow howled, too, but not from laugh 
 ing. 
 
 " All winter! " he screams. " The gal s gone 
 loony! She wants to kill me and get me out of
 
 25 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 the way. I sha n t stir one step. ,You hear me? 
 Not one step ! " 
 
 " This piece says that many patients act that 
 way first along. In such cases it is often neces 
 sary to use force. Mr. Pratt, will you take Pa 
 out to the tool shed? I ll carry the lamp." 
 
 Would I? I was aching for the chance to get 
 my hands on the little rat. I stood up and squared 
 my shoulders. 
 
 " Mr. Van Brunt," yells Washy, dodging into 
 the corner, " be you going to set by and see me 
 murdered? Didn t you swear your Bible oath to 
 treat me kind? " 
 
 " There couldn t be nothing kinder than curing 
 you, Pa," says Eureka. " It s all right, ain t it, 
 Mr. Van Brunt." 
 
 Van didn t answer for a second. Then he says, 
 like he d decided, " Yes, it s dead right. Go ahead 
 and cure him, for heaven s sake, if you can ! I ll 
 back you up and take my chances." 
 
 " My nerves " begins Washy. 
 
 " Nerves," says Eureka, " come from the 
 stomach. I ll tend to them later. We ll cure your 
 lungs first. Mr. Pratt, fetch him along." 
 
 I got my fingers on the back of that consump 
 tive s neck. He fought and hung back. Then I
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 257 
 
 grabbed him by the waist-band with t other hand. 
 He moved then, " walking Spanish," like the boy 
 in the school-yard. 
 
 Eureka opened the door. " Nobody can say," 
 says she, emphatic, " that I let my Pa die of con 
 sumption without trying to cure him. Come along, 
 Mr. Pratt." 
 
 " Remember, Mr. Sparrow," says Van, busting 
 with laugh, " it s all for your good." 
 
 We went out and across the yard and round 
 back of the barn. The Twins come to the door 
 to see us off. I could hear em laughing even 
 after we was out of sight. Eureka shaded the 
 lamp with her apron. When we got to the shed 
 there was a bran-new padlock on the door of it. 
 
 " I put it on this afternoon," says she. " I m 
 pretty handy at fixing things up." 
 
 We went into the shed and she put the lamp on 
 the floor in the corner. 
 
 " I guess maybe Mr. Pratt 11 stay till you get 
 undressed, Pa," she says. " .You tell him the rest, 
 Mr. Pratt. Good night." 
 
 She went out and shut the door. The patient 
 set down on the lounge and looked at the cracks 
 in the walls. The wind off the bay was singing 
 through em and there was a steady hailstorm of
 
 25 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 sand coming with it. If fresh air was physic, 
 -Sparrow was certain to be a well man. 
 
 " Get undressed," says I. " Hurry up." 
 *" I ll freeze to death," says he, shivering. 
 
 " No you won t. Not in August. Maybe, later 
 on, in December, twill be different. But, anyhow, 
 freezing s a quick death, so they say, and I ve 
 heard you hankering to die quick ever since I knew 
 you. Get into bed." 
 
 He took off his coat and vest and camped out on 
 the lounge. There w*as plenty of bed clothes. I 
 took up the lamp. Then I looked up at him. 
 
 There s one or two things more," says I. 
 To-morrow morning you ll be for coming into 
 the house. Well, you can t come. You ll stay out 
 side, same as Eureka says you will. And the skiff 
 and sloop are locked and chained, so you can t run 
 away in them. And Scudder won t take you, nor 
 any letters from you, cause he s in the game, too. 
 And when Miss Page comes, if she does come, 
 don t you dare tell her one word. If you do 
 well, you won t die of consumption, anyhow." 
 
 I pounded my knee with my fist when I said it. 
 It s a pretty average fist, far s size is concerned, 
 and I see him looking at it. 
 
 I said " Good night " and went out and locked
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 259 
 
 the door and took away the key. The fresh air 
 cure had begun. 
 
 Next day was raw and chilly and the invalid put 
 in the hours chasing what few patches of sunshine 
 happened to come along. Eureka brought his 
 meals out to him. He begged and pleaded to be 
 let into the house, but twas no go. He spent that 
 night in the tool-house, same as he had the first. 
 
 For a week he stayed outdoor. Then he said he 
 felt so much better that he guessed he could risk 
 a day inside. Eureka was ready for him. 
 
 " I m glad your lungs feel better, Pa," she says, 
 " I thought they would. But, of course, you 
 mustn t come in for months and months yet. I 
 guess it s time to start in on the dyspepsy line." 
 
 She took a piece of paper out of her dress waist 
 and unfolded it. " I sent a dollar to a doctor that 
 advertised in the People s Magazine" she says, 
 " and I got this. It s for dyspepsy, Pa, and par 
 ticular nervous dyspepsy. * A careful diet and 
 plenty of exercise, " she read. " We ll begin on 
 the dieting. * In severe cases patient should take 
 nothing but hot milk. We ve got plenty of milk 
 such as tis. That s a comfort." 
 
 Her dad had been setting on the wash-bench 
 back of the kitchen. Now he jumped up off it.
 
 2 6o MR. PRATT 
 
 like twas red Hot. " Do you have tKe face to tell 
 me," he screams, "that I can t have nothing to 
 eat but milk? Why, that s " 
 
 " Doctor s orders, Pa," says Eureka. " I m 
 going by doctor s orders, and see what they ve 
 done for your lungs already." 
 
 " I can t live on milk! I ain t a baby. I Hate 
 the stuff ! I don t believe no doctor d ever " 
 
 " Well, we ll call Dr. Penrose and see what he 
 says. I ll bet he ll back me up." 
 
 Washy didn t take the bet. He knew what Dr. 
 Penrose thought of him and his ailments. 
 
 " Aw, Reky, please " he begs. 
 
 " For your own good, Pa," says his daughter. 
 " I ll fetch you the hot milk." 
 
 She did a quart of it. He drank it cause 
 there wa n t nothing else. For another week he 
 lived on hot skim-milk and cold fresh air. He 
 pleaded with the Heavenlies and me, but we 
 hadn t any pity for him. He tackled Scudder, but 
 Nate never pitied anybody unless there was money 
 in it. He tried smuggling letters to Agnes, get 
 ting Lycurgus to carry em; but Lys was in with 
 his sister and the letters never got any further than 
 Eureka s pocket. 
 
 Twas fun for the rest of us, but a kind of nui-
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 261 
 
 sance in some ways. You see the sight of us eat 
 ing three square meals a day was horrible tantal 
 izing to a dyspeptic with an appetite like Washy s. 
 He d peek in through the dining-room windows 
 while we was at the table, and groan steady and 
 loud till dessert time. Van said it reminded him 
 of what he called a "tarble dote " at a Hun 
 garian restaurant in New York. He said there 
 was music at both places, but that, on the whole, 
 Washy s music was the best of the two. 
 
 The Sunday of the week following was a mean 
 day. A cold rain and considerable wind; more 
 like October than August. The invalid set in the 
 tool-shed with the door opened and an umbrella 
 keeping off the rain that leaked through the cracks 
 in the reof. He looked as happy and snug as a 
 locked-out cat in a thunder storm. 
 
 " Aw, Eureka," says he, when me and hfe 
 daughter went out to the shed with the noon 
 bucket of steaming milk. " Aw, Eureka," he says, 
 " won t you let me have something hearty? Only 
 a hunk of bread, say? I ve drownded my insides 
 with that thin milk till I feel like a churn. I 
 can t keep on drinking the stuff". The mere sight 
 of a cow would make me seasick." 
 
 But Eureka wouldn t give in. " It s all for
 
 2 6 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 your good, Pa," she said. That was what Van 
 told him every chance he got. I cal late them 
 words had come to be almost as sickening to him 
 as the milk. 
 
 Next morning I got up early and come down 
 stairs. Twas blowing hard and still raining. 
 Eureka hadn t turned out yet. I opened the door 
 of the kitchen and there I see a sight. 
 
 In the rocking chair by the kitchen stove was 
 Washy Sparrow, sprawled out fast asleep. His 
 feet was on the hearth of the stove, a piece of pie 
 crust was on the floor by his hand, his head was 
 tipped back and his mouth wide open. And his 
 face oh, say ! It was perfect peace and comfort. 
 
 The critter, so it turned out afterwards, had 
 hunted around in the night till he found a cellar 
 window unlocked. Then he d crawled in and tip 
 toed up to the kitchen. 
 
 I went upstairs again and routed out the Heav- 
 enlies. I wanted em to see the show. We stood 
 in the door and looked at it. Just then Eureka 
 come along. 
 
 " My soul and body! " she sings out. 
 
 Her dad heard her and woke up. First he just 
 opened his eyes and stretched. Then he set up 
 straight and turned round. He turned pale.
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE 26$ 
 
 "Well, Pa! " says Eureka, sharp, "what sort 
 of doings is this? What do you mean? " 
 
 Sparrow stared at her; then at us. He started 
 to speak. Then he happened to notice my fist ; and 
 he never said a word. 
 
 "The idea!" says Eureka. "After all I ve 
 done to cure you. Roasting in this hot kitchen and 
 eating is that apple pie crust by your hand? " 
 
 She stepped across and opened the pantry door. 
 
 " My sakes alive ! " she says. " I swan to man 
 if he ain t ate everything in the buttery! " 
 
 " I I " stammers Washy, wild like. " I 
 I I didn t mean to, but I was starved and and 
 half drown ded, and " 
 
 " Pie ! " says Eureka. " Well, I never ! Now 
 we re in a nice mess; and all to do over again." 
 
 "I m all right now, anyway," says Washy. " I 
 ain t coughing none and the grub don t distress me 
 a mite. Not half so much as that cussed blue 
 milk." 
 
 " All to do over," says Eureka. " And I don t 
 know as we ll ever cure you now. Get out door 
 this minute. And you mustn t eat a thing, not 
 even milk, for three or four days. Open that out 
 side door, please, Mr. Pratt." 
 
 I opened the door. The rain come beating in.
 
 364 MR. PRATT 
 
 with the wind bade of it. It hit Washy like a cold 
 wave. 
 
 " I m all right, I tell you ! " he yelled. " I feel 
 fine. Better n ever I was, don t knows I ain t." 
 
 " Are you sure, Pa ? " 
 
 "Sure? Course I m sure. Don t I know? I m 
 all cured." 
 
 " Well, that s a mercy," Eureka says. " I knew 
 twas the right receipts, but I didn t think they d 
 work so quick. Mr. Van Brunt, Pa s cured. He ll 
 take that job at the hotel this very day; just as 
 soon as it clears up a little." 
 
 The Heavenlies shouted and so did I. The 
 cured man looked tolerable uneasy. He choked 
 up and begun to sputter. 
 
 " Course you mustn t go if you ain t real well 
 and cured for good, Pa," says his daughter. 
 " Maybe you d better try the tool-house and the 
 milk a spell longer." 
 
 The door was still open. And the wind and 
 rain was driving in. Washy swallowed, and an 
 swered slow: 
 
 " I ll I ll go," he says. " But I ll have to 
 work sort of easy first along, so s " 
 
 " Oh, no! you must work real hard, so s to get 
 the exercise, or you ll have a relapse. Mr. Pratt,
 
 THE WHITE PLAGUE , 265 
 
 you ll tell Mr. Brown to see that Pa works the way 
 he d ought to, won t you ? " 
 
 I nodded. " He ll work," says I, decided. 
 
 At ten o clock twas clear and I rowed the ex- 
 consumptive dyspeptic over to the main and led 
 him up to the hotel. I give him some advice as I 
 went along. 
 
 That afternoon the Twins did nothing but tell 
 Eureka that she was a wonder. 
 
 " Yes," says she, " I cal late he s cured, at least 
 for a spell. Anyhow, that Everybody works but 
 father song don t fit our family no more."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 [THE NATURAL LIFE 
 
 WASHY SPARROW S going to work 
 was the biggest surprise Wellmouth 
 had had since old man Ginn, owner of 
 the Palace Billiard Pool and Sipio Parlors, got 
 converted and joined the Good Templars. No 
 body would believe it, of course, without seeing 
 him do it with their own eyes, and there was so 
 many folks round the hotel that Peter Brown said 
 he was thinking of charging admission. Agnes 
 Page heard the news and come posting over to 
 find out what sort of cruelizing her pet invalid had 
 had to bear. Van Brunt done the explaining; it 
 was right in his line. 
 
 " It was the invigorating atmosphere of Ozone 
 Island that did it, Agnes," he said. " When we 
 have finished ruralizing here I m considering turn 
 ing the place into a sanitarium. One week of 
 Pratt s chowder and Eureka s corn muffins, cou 
 pled with the bay breezes and the odor of clam 
 
 266
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 267 
 
 flats and seaweed, would make an Egyptian 
 mummy turn flip-flaps. I have to lay violent 
 hands on myself every day, or I, too, would be 
 seized with the laboring fever." 
 
 She looked at him, kind of odd. " That is most 
 alarming news," says she, " if true. I confess I 
 hadn t noticed the symptoms. Your temperature 
 appears to be normal at present." 
 
 " It is," he says. " I flatter myself that I am 
 making a magnificent fight against the disease. 
 My most rabid attacks are in the early morning, 
 before I get out of bed. Then I feel the insane 
 desire for work, hard work, creeping over me. 
 But I am firm. I reason thus : * The governor is 
 sixty odd and his heart is weak. Think of the 
 shock that the news would be to him ? Think 
 and so forth. So I resolve to keep up the fight. 
 By the time I am dressed and have had breakfast 
 all yearning for work has left me. Don t you 
 think I deserve credit?" 
 
 She said he did. Only he must be careful and 
 not get up and work in his sleep. I listened with 
 my mouth open as usual. Such crazy drivel from 
 grown up men and women was too many for me. 
 It wa n t intended to be funny, of course, because 
 they never smiled. It beat me altogether, and
 
 2 68 MR. PRATT 
 
 Eureka said the same. Twas her notion that all 
 the lunatics that was crowded out of the asylums, 
 or was too rich to be put into em was sent to New 
 iYork. It sounded reasonable enough to believe, 
 sometimes. 
 
 Agnes saw Sparrow, of course, but Brown was 
 by when she see him and Washy didn t dare say 
 but he d gone to work of his own accord. I 
 cal late that he figgerecl that the gang of us would 
 have killed him if he had. So the Page girl went 
 back to Eastwich satisfied. And Eureka went 
 home again nights and kept house for Lycurgus 
 and her dad. But Hartley looked out that the 
 most of the old man s ten dollars a w eek was 
 turned over to her. 
 
 The Heavenlies quiet Naturalness had pretty 
 nigh disappeared altogether now. They was 
 restless all the time. Mail was heavy and the 
 telegram envelopes in the coal hod and around 
 was thicker than ever. Aad Scudder come to 
 Ozone three times a day. 
 
 By September I thought sure they d be ready 
 to quit and go home. They acted to me as though 
 they was tired of the whole thing. I thought I d 
 sound em, so I says: 
 
 " I s pose likely you ll be for shutting up this
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 2 6 9 
 
 shop and getting back to the city most any day 
 pretty soon now, won t you? " 
 
 Van Brunt looked at his chum and Hartley 
 looked at him. Then they caught themselves 
 doing it, and looked away quick. 
 
 " Why, skipper! " says Van, " what makes you 
 say that?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing special," says I. " Only it 
 seemed to me that you was kind of nervous and 
 fidgety lately. Didn t know but you was anxious 
 to be dealing them stocks of yours, or some 
 thing. You ve been away from em a good while." 
 
 It was Hartley that answered. " Van is done 
 with the stock market," he says, quick. " He has 
 sworn never to touch it again." 
 
 That s so," says I. " I remember hearing 
 him swear that every ten minutes when we first 
 come. But he s kind of knocked off swearing 
 lately, so I forgot. But I did think you fellers 
 weren t quite so keen on the Natural Life business 
 as you was. You ain t read the gospel for a con 
 siderable spell." 
 
 They both looked sheepish and guilty. 
 
 " That s so," says Van. " We haven t. But 
 we ve been so confoundedly busy, gunning, and 
 White Plagueing, and so on, that we haven t had
 
 2yo MR. PRATT 
 
 time. And we ve mislaid the book. If I knew 
 where it was I should be " 
 
 " Here tis, right on the mantelpiece," says I, 
 reaching for it and knocking off the dust. Why 
 don t you take a set at it now? It s too foggy to 
 do much outside." 
 
 So they done it, Hartley reading, and Van lis 
 tening. But twas a short session. When I come 
 in, about fifteen minutes later, the book was bot 
 tom up on the floor and the Twins was dealing 
 what they called " cold hands " with cards, for a 
 quarter a hand. 
 
 That week was when we reaped our harvest 
 from the garden. Two middling lean cucumbers 
 and a tomatter that was suffering from yellow 
 jaundice. They was pretty sick vegetables, but 
 the Heavenlies seemed to think they was some 
 thing wonderful. They made more fuss over em 
 than if they was solid gold. And they digested as 
 if they was, too. 
 
 News come that Dewey, the Sparrow baby, was 
 sick with a cold over to the Fresh Air School and 
 Eureka was worried. Finally she decided to go 
 over there for a day or so and see to him. Lycur- 
 gus would look out for Pa. So she went and me 
 and the Twins was left alone.
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 271 
 
 The day she went was beautiful and clear. Hot 
 as July, and not a breath of wind. It acted to me 
 like a weather breeder, and I said so; but all I got 
 for the prophesying was Van s calling me a Jere 
 miah again. He had planned a gunning cruise 
 for the next day. 
 
 That night I woke up about twelve o clock and 
 Marcellus s old slab castle was shaking like as if 
 it had the palsy. The wind was roaring and 
 screeching and the rain was just swashing against 
 the windows. I turned out and put in a lively half 
 hour shutting blinds and making things fast. 
 Usually September is a pleasant month down our 
 way, but sometimes we get a regular gale, and, 
 when we do, we get all the back numbers without 
 subscribing for em. I was soaking wet when I 
 got to bed again. 
 
 Next morning twas worst than ever. The bay 
 looked like a tortoise shell cat in a fit, just a whirli 
 gig of black and white and yellow water. Scudder 
 managed to get across, but his milk cans had upset 
 in the dory and he said he wouldn t risk another 
 trip till she faired off some. 
 
 Along about noon the tool-shed the late la 
 mented Washy s boarding house blew down 
 with a bang. Then the Dora Bassett broke loose
 
 272 MR. PRATT 
 
 from her moorings and drove into the cove head 
 first. She was bound to bang herself to flinders 
 unless somebody got to her quick, so out I went 
 into the storm. I did think maybe the Heavenlies 
 would offer to turn to and help, but they was 
 pitching half dollars at a crack in the floor and was 
 too busy to think of anything else. 
 
 I had a sweet time ploughing through the sand 
 against that wind and rain, and when I got to the 
 cove my job was cut out for me. The sloop was 
 hard and fast aground on the flat and the tide was 
 coming in. She couldn t stay where she was, so I 
 worked for two hours up to my waist in ice water, 
 and more a-pouring on to me from the clouds, get 
 ting her off and made fast. The Twins did help 
 me long towards the last part of it. That is to say, 
 they set in an upstairs back window and pounded 
 on the glass and made signs superintending, as 
 usual. I wish they could have heard some of the 
 language I hove back at em. Then they d have 
 realized how grateful I was. 
 
 I got supper without changing my wet clothes, 
 and when I woke up next morning I decided with 
 out no argument that something else had happened. 
 I was took with the galloping rheumatiz my old 
 trouble and couldn t move, scarcely, without
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 275 
 
 howling same as a dog with his tail shut in a door. 
 The fire was out the old chimbley had un 
 loaded half of its top rigging in to the wind the 
 storm was bad as ever, and there I \vas laid up on 
 the corn-husks. The Heavenlies was worried. 
 Breakfast was somewheres round the next corner. 
 
 " Too bad, old man," says Hartley. " What 
 can we do? " 
 
 "Do?" I answers, between yells. "I don t 
 care what you do. Only don t bother me. Owl 
 O-o-o-o ! my shoulder!" 
 
 " But what ll we do for eatables?" asks Van 
 Brunt. 
 
 I liked them fellers first rate and they knew it. 
 But now they made me mad. 
 
 " Do? " says I. " Do? Why, scratch for your 
 living, same s I ve had to all my days! Work, 
 consarn you ! work! " 
 
 I said considerable many other things. Twas 
 a sort of jerky talk I had to stop every minute 
 to attend to my shoulder but there was meat in 
 it. They heard some plain truth that nothing but 
 rheumatiz could have fetched out of me. I didn t 
 skip nothing leastways I tried not to. I hope it 
 done em good ; it seemed to help me a heap. 
 
 They went to work, but they was way down in
 
 274 MR. PRATT 
 
 the primer class so far as that branch of learning 
 was concerned. I could hear things falling around 
 in the kitchen and a million matches, more or less, 
 a-scratching, and I judged that Hartley was trying 
 to build a fire. And under my window there was 
 the dickens of a thumping and a most astonishing 
 number of cuss words, so I gathered that Van was 
 chopping wood. 
 
 I managed to hobble downstairs about half past 
 ten, but I was in plenty of time for breakfast. I 
 was feeling too mean to have any appetite which 
 was a mercy, and I m thankful for it. We had 
 smoked mush, Wall Street style, and fried eggs 
 with cinders, and one cup of coffee for three. But 
 that cup was strong enough owing to Hartley s 
 letting it bile for two hours so nobody wanted 
 any more. 
 
 The Twins was pretty well wore out by this time, 
 so neither of them would wash dishes. They 
 chucked em into the kitchen sink and left them 
 there. Then they put in three or four hours look 
 ing out of the window and swearing at the 
 weather. I stayed in the armchair by the fireplace 
 and did little or nothing but groan and rub alcohol 
 on my lame shoulder. Twa n t a joyful kind of 
 experience, but twas the first real daytime rest I d
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 275 
 
 had since I got Naturalized. And, I own up, I 
 got a good deal of comfort watching the Heaven- 
 lies try to do for themselves. 
 
 Mind you, if the thing had happened when they 
 first lit on Horsefoot Bar, when they was full of 
 simplicity and the love of it, I cal late they d have 
 stood it better. But now they was about sick of 
 the Island anyway, only one was afraid to say so 
 and t other dassent. So the more the work piled 
 up the uglier they got. 
 
 Dinner was served at four o clock; scorched 
 eggs again, and coffee. No dishwashing. Twas 
 storming hard as ever and the draft kept both 
 the stove and fireplace roaring, so more wood had 
 to be chopped. 
 
 " Martin," says Van Brunt, " go out and cut 
 that wood, will you ? The axe is by the woodpile 
 that is to say, it s there if this blessed cyclone 
 hasn t blown it out to sea." 
 
 Hartley was poking at the stove, with his face 
 and clothes all covered with ashes. 
 
 " Cut it yourself," says he, brisk. " You re 
 doing nothing." 
 
 " I cut it before," snaps his chum. " Think 
 I m a steam engine? " 
 
 He grabbed up the day-afore-yesterday s news-
 
 27 6 MR. PRATT. 
 
 paper and went to reading. Hartley poked at the 
 stove a spell and then went to the closet and got a 
 cigar. Van looked up and saw him. 
 
 "Hand me one of those," says he, motioning 
 towards the cigar. 
 
 " There isn t any more. This was the last one 
 in the box." 
 
 " The devil it is! And you take it? Well, by 
 George ! " 
 
 " Now, see here. I saw you take four this fore 
 noon, and this is only my second. Don t be a prize 
 
 Pig-" 
 
 The stove ashes got into his mouth and nose 
 just then, so he had a fit of sneezing. When 
 twas over he slammed the poker into the corner 
 and went to the window. 
 
 " Where s that idiot Scudder? " he asks. 
 
 "You mean Nature s Nobleman?" says I, 
 smooth and calm. " Oh, he won t show up for a 
 day or so. Sea s too high to risk his dory. Dories 
 cost money." 
 
 Van sat up straight. " You re bluffing, aren t 
 you, skipper? " he asks, troubled. " It isn t pos 
 sible that that rascal will stay at home and not 
 come near us." 
 
 "Rascal?" says I. "Rascal? Oh! yes, yes.
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 277 
 
 No, the * rough diamond won t trust himself 
 afloat this weather. He s too expensive a jewel 
 for that. We ll have to do without milk." 
 
 " Milk be hanged ! It s my mail I want. Why, 
 I m expecting " 
 
 He bit the sentence in two and looked quick at 
 his partner. But Hartley was scowling and star 
 ing out of the window. I guess he hadn t 
 heard. 
 
 That fireplace needs filling," says I, after a 
 while. " It ll be mighty damp and chilly here if 
 the fire goes out." 
 
 Why don t you chop that wood, Van? " asks 
 Hartley, kind of fretful. 
 
 " Chop it yourself. My hands are blistered 
 enough already." 
 
 " No more than mine. That confounded stove 
 has fixed me. Where I m not burned I m scraped 
 raw." 
 
 Then there was another spell of saying nothing. 
 
 " Fire s most gone," I suggests, by and by. 
 
 " Let it go," says Van. Hartley didn t speak. 
 
 " Now see here," I says, decided. " I ve got 
 the rheumatiz and I don t want to get any more 
 cold. You fellers have pretended to think some 
 thing of me. If you don t want my remains on
 
 27 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 your hands, and a funeral to pay for, you ll chop 
 that wood." 
 
 Martin got down from the window seat, mov 
 ing stiff and lame. 
 
 " You re right, Sol," says he. : We are un 
 grateful beasts. I ll chop that wood." 
 
 " Hold on, old man," breaks in his chum. 
 " You sha n t be the only game sport. I ll match 
 you for the job." 
 
 So they matched cents and Van Brunt got stuck. 
 He yanked on his hat and coat and went out, bang 
 ing the door. Hartley tackled the cookstove again. 
 Twas time to be thinking of supper, if we was 
 going to have any. 
 
 Van was gone a long time and he come in soaked 
 with sweat and rain and broke up generally. The 
 wood looked like it had been chewed. I cal late 
 they don t do much chopping in the Street. 
 
 He slatted himself into a chair, wet clothes and 
 all. Then he commenced to cuss the Island and 
 everything that grew or moved on it. 
 
 What we ever came to this lonesome fag end 
 of creation for, anyway," says he, " is " 
 
 " What? " I hollers. " I don t understand you. 
 You can t mean what place are you talking 
 about?"
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 279 
 
 " This place. This sand-scoured, blown out 
 Leap of desolation. Ozon<s Horsefoot Bar Island, 
 or whatever you call it." 
 
 " Well! " says I. " Are you crazy? Mr. Van 
 Brunt, I ve heard you yourself say that this island 
 was all that s lovely." 
 
 " Oh, shut up ! " he snaps. 
 
 " Jolliest old ark you ever saw," I went on, 
 quoting from memory. " Air to breathe, ver 
 anda to set on, ozone by the keg. Man alive, it s 
 Paradise ! " 
 
 He ripped out an order for me to go some- 
 wheres as far away from Paradise as a feller could 
 think of. 
 
 Supper was ready by seven. All we had to eat 
 was a hunk of dry cornbread and two eggs. Oh, 
 yes ! and the tea. Hartley biled some tea that was 
 a kind of herb mush. Strong and thick enough 
 for a stick to stand up straight in. And there 
 wa n t clean dishes to go around, so some of em 
 had to be washed. 
 
 I was having a fairly good time. Wood must 
 be chopped again and they matched cents. Blessed 
 if Van didn t get the short end, as usual. His 
 talk was pretty nigh pitiful. It would have 
 brought tears to a mule s eyes; I know it did tc
 
 2 8o MR. PRATT 
 
 mine. The sight of Martin s upsetting the tea 
 kettle and getting next door to scalded was the 
 only thing that comforted him. 
 
 He got a letter out of his pocket and went to 
 reading it. The envelope dropped on the floor. 
 It had printing on one corner and Hartley hap 
 pened to glance at it. Then he tiptoed up behind 
 his chum and peeked over his shoulder. 
 
 "Ed Van Brunt!" he sings out. "What s 
 that you ve got there? " 
 
 T other Twin jumped and looked scared. He 
 stuffed the letter back into his pocket. 
 
 " It s nothing," says he, stuttering. " Nothing 
 but an old letter." 
 
 " It s a broker s letter," says Hartley. " You 
 villain, you ve been speculating! " 
 
 First off, Van Brunt was for denying every 
 thing. But twas no use. His chum had read the 
 letter. 
 
 You ve been trading in stocks," he says, sol 
 emn. You, that have sworn over and over 
 again never to touch the market! You!" 
 
 " I m mighty sorry, Martin," begs Van. " It 
 was a miserable cheap thing to do. I don t know 
 what you must think of me, old man. But, you 
 see, it got so deadly dull here, and when I saw
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 281 
 
 the Post that day, it said that Tea Lead was a 
 
 good purchase. I wrote Smythe and he " 
 
 " Tea Lead? " breaks in Hartley. " Have you 
 been buying Tea Lead? " 
 
 Yes, I have. I m carrying a pretty good load 
 of it, too, worse luck. Scudder has been bringing 
 my letters and telegrams, and now that he doesn t 
 
 come, why " 
 
 " Wait a minute ! Has Scudder been looking 
 out for your wires and orders? " 
 
 Yes, he has. Oh, I ve played you mean and 
 low enough, Martin. Might as well make a clean 
 breast of it, though it will probably smash our 
 friendship. I ve paid Scudder three dollars a 
 day to attend to things, and say nothing to you. 
 
 It s " 
 
 Hartley didn t seem to hear nothing but the 
 last sentence. Now he interrupted. 
 
 Three dollars ! " he says, low. " Three dol 
 lars ! Why, the confounded grafter s been charg 
 ing me five! " 
 
 And there it was ! The cat out of the bag and 
 both Heavenly Twins tarred with the same brush. 
 That s what Nate s secrets and the talks behind 
 the barn, and all, had meant. Van Brunt had 
 been bucking the Tea Lead deal ever since he read
 
 2 8 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 the Post that day, and Martin had begun after his 
 row with Agnes. And both of em bribing Nate 
 Scudder to keep his mouth shut. 
 
 First they was provoked and mad at themselves 
 and each other. Then they got to laughing. 
 
 "Whew!" says Van, wiping his forehead; 
 " you and I came here to rest and break off from 
 business worry. And I ve worried more in the 
 last month than I have before since my big deal. 
 It s hard to teach old dogs new tricks, isn t it, 
 Martin?" 
 
 " You re dead right, old chap," says Hartley. 
 
 They was going to turn in soon after this, but 
 when they went upstairs they found the rain had 
 leaked in through the ell roof and their feather 
 beds was sopping wet. Down they come again, 
 mad clean through and calling Marcellus s heir 
 loom everything but a nice place. 
 
 "You d better set down and rest yourselves a 
 spell," says I. " It ll do you good. I m sorry 
 I ain t been able to help you more to-day, but 
 there s one thing I can do ; I can help you do what 
 you call * improve your minds. I ll read you 
 some out of that Natural Life book. Hand it to 
 me, will you ? " 
 
 Van jumped for the book. But he didn t hand
 
 THE NATURAL LIFE 283 
 
 it to me. Not much! He drew back his arm 
 and banged that book into the fireplace so hard 
 that I thought twould knock the bricks out at the 
 back. 
 
 " Well! " says I, my mouth opening like a clam 
 shell. " Well! The Natural Life! " 
 
 "The Natural Life be d d!" says Edward 
 Van Brunt. 
 
 And Martin Hartley says " Amen."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 ACROSS THE BAY 
 
 MARTIN," says Van Brunt, " I guess it s 
 the only safe way. I ll go out on the 
 next train." 
 
 We was at the dinner table when he said it. 
 Twas one o clock of the day after the Natural 
 Life sermon went up in smoke. The weather was 
 still pretty mean, the sky being all clouded over 
 and the sea running high. But it had stopped 
 raining and the gale seemed to be petering out. I 
 was a whole lot better and was able to turn out 
 and work. 
 
 I had my hands full that morning, too. All 
 three of us was close to starvation, after twenty- 
 four hours of short rations, and it took some time 
 to get us filled up. Then I had the pig and hens 
 to see to. The poor critters lives had been more 
 Natural even than ours they hadn t had nothing 
 to eat. The pig was In particular trouble. The 
 rain had turned his pen into a sort of lake and 
 he was playing Robinson Crusoe on a seaweed 
 
 284
 
 A CROSS THE BAY 285 
 
 island in the middle of it. The way he grunted 
 for joy when I looked over the fence was human 
 yes, sir, human. 
 
 Scudder hove in sight about ten and the Heaven- 
 lies fairly fell on his neck when he stepped out of 
 the dory. But they warn t so happy when he d 
 spun his yarn. It seemed that the gale had blown 
 down the telegraph poles and tangled up the wires 
 and no messages could get through either way, 
 and wa n t likely to for two or three days. 
 
 Twas that that upset the Twins. The Tea 
 Lead market might be tied up in a knot, for what 
 they knew, and their " friends " in the Street 
 might be robbing em right and left. I picked up 
 from their talk that now was the most ticklish 
 time, something about " passing a dividend," or 
 the like of that. So that s what they argued about 
 at the dinner table; and it was decided that Van 
 should go to New York right off, and pick up what 
 might be left after their chums and the rest of the 
 forty thieves had got through shaking the contri 
 bution box. 
 
 " I ll leave at once," Van says; " and be in town 
 to-morrow morning. If all goes well I ll be back 
 here next day. Meanwhile, you, Martin, can be 
 arranging matters with Scudder."
 
 2 86 MR. PRATT 
 
 He meant arranging for our quitting Ozone 
 Island for good. They was as anxious now to get 
 out of " Paradise " as they had been to move into 
 it. If I mentioned a word of Natural Life they 
 all but threw things at me. 
 
 I expected for sure that they d lick Nate Scud- 
 der for charging his dry-season rates for secret 
 keeping. But they never mentioned it to him. 
 When I spoke of it to Van Brunt, he laughed. 
 
 " Oh, Scudder s all right," he says. " He had 
 a corner in secrets and squeezed the shorts, that s 
 all. That s legitimate. Scudder has a talent of 
 his own." 
 
 Yes, and he s making it ten talents in a hurry, 
 like the feller in Scripture," says I. 
 
 Well, he doesn t hide it in a napkin, anyway," 
 laughs Van. 
 
 " No," says I. " I believe he uses one of Huldy 
 Ann s stockings." 
 
 About three o clock we got into the skiff, the 
 three of us, and rowed to the main. Twas a hard 
 wet row. I judged the gale wa n t all over yet. 
 We walked up as far as Nate s and there he was 
 waiting in his buggy to drive Van Brunt to the 
 Wellmouth depot. Martin and Van said good- 
 by and had a final pow-wow over the Tea Lead.
 
 ACROSS THE BAK 287 
 
 " Good-by," says I. u Ain t got any real gilt- 
 edged expensive secrets you want kept while you re 
 gone, have you? I d like to squeeze a short or 
 two, myself." 
 
 You ought to have seen Nate Scudder bristle up 
 and glare at me. But his passenger only laughed, 
 as usual. 
 
 " No," he says, " not a one. My conscience is 
 clear. But I may unearth a few while I m away." 
 
 Well, he did. But not the kind he expected. 
 
 I had to step into Nate s house to get a few 
 eggs. Our own hens was too weighted down 
 under the Natural to be working overtime. Huldy 
 Ann had the remnants of a nicked blue set of dishes 
 that was handed down from her great aunt on her 
 grandmother s side, and she thought maybe Hart 
 ley d be interested at a dollar a nick. It took so 
 long to make her believe he wa n t, that we wasted 
 an hour or more there. When we got to the hill 
 by the beach twas most five o clock. 
 
 The wind s hauled clear around," says I. 
 " We ain t had all the dirty weather yet. This 11 
 be a bad night in the bay." 
 
 Just then from behind us come the rattling of a 
 wagon and the thumping of a horse s hoofs. 
 Somebody was driving our way like all get out.
 
 288 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Who in time ? " I says. " Runaway, ain t 
 it?" 
 
 But twas no runaway. In another minute, a 
 horse all lather, hauling a buggy all mud, comes 
 bouncing over the hummocky road and down the 
 hill. A girl was driving it. 
 
 " Whoa ! " she screams, shrill. The horse 
 stopped like he was glad of the chance. 
 
 "Eureka Sparrow!" I sings out. "What in 
 the name of goodness ? " 
 
 Twas Eureka, and the team was the one that 
 the Fresh Airers had hired for the season. The 
 girl looked as if she d been through the war. She 
 had a shawl pinned round her but it had slipped 
 down most to her elbows, and her hat was over 
 on the back of her neck. 
 
 "What s the matter?" I asks. "Is Dewey 
 
 " Dewey s all right," she says, leaning from the 
 buggy. " It s little Dennis Redny. He s aw 
 ful sick and where s Mr. Van Brunt?" 
 
 " Gone to New York," says Hartley, stepping 
 up to the wheel. " What is it? Tell me about 
 it." 
 
 She was almost crying. " The poor little 
 feller," she says; "he was took this morning.
 
 A CROSS THE BAY 289 
 
 Pains, and such suffering. We sent for Dr. 
 Bailey and he was sick in bed himself. Then 
 James drove over for Dr. Penrose, and he d gone 
 up to the city to a medical society meeting. There 
 wa n t nobody left but that new doctor at West 
 Eastwich, Doctor Duncan, and nobody likes him. 
 / wouldn t have him to a sick cat. He says it s 
 appendi append! something or other." 
 
 " Appendicitis? " asks Hartley. 
 
 " Yup. That s what he says. And he wants 
 an operation to-morrow. And Miss Agnes don t 
 trust him, and she s all upset. She thinks more 
 of that boy ! And she sent me for Mr. Van 
 Brunt, and " 
 
 " Sol," asks Martin, quick. " Is this new doc 
 tor a good one? " 
 
 " No, no ! " says I. "If he said I had diphthery 
 I d be sure twas gout. And there ain t another 
 doctor nowheres around." 
 
 " There s one," says Eureka, " if we could only 
 get him. Miss Talford read in the paper day 
 before yesterday that Doctor Jordan, the big stun 
 geon " 
 
 " Surgeon," says I. 
 
 " All right, surgeon then. He s at the Wapa- 
 tomac House for a week. But he probably
 
 29 o MR. PRATT 
 
 wouldn t come and the telegraph wires are down 
 and nobody thought to write in time. And that 
 Doctor Duncan thing, he says he ll operate to 
 morrow morning. If he does he ll kill the boy 
 sure, just as he done to Emeline Macomber s 
 child. What shall we do? Poor Miss Agnes! 
 Can t nobody help her? " 
 
 " How can I get to Wapatomac? " asks Mar 
 tin, sharp and quick. 
 
 " You can t," says I. " Not in time to get the 
 doctor. He must reach Eastwich on that morning 
 train or twill be too late. The last train has 
 gone to-night. There ain t another till eight 
 o clock to-morrow. If you took that twouldn t 
 reach Wapatomac till ten, and that s no good." 
 
 We was silent for a second. Then Eureka 
 jumped up in the buggy and clapped her hands. 
 
 You can get him ! " she cries, her black eyes 
 snapping sparks. " Oh, you can! " 
 
 " How? " Martin and me said together. 
 
 She pointed towards Ozone Island. 
 
 " The sailboat! " she said. " The Dora Bas- 
 settf Sail over in her. Then he ll come on the 
 morning train." 
 
 I swung around and looked at the waves and the 
 clouds. Wapatomac was clear across the bay,
 
 A CROSS THE BAY 291 
 
 miles and miles away. And a night like this was 
 likely to be ! 
 
 "Lord!" says I. "It s crazy! We d never 
 live " 
 
 But Martin Hartley was already half way to 
 the skiff. Of course he didn t know the risk, and 
 I did, but well, there. 
 
 " I ll go," says I to Eureka. " You head for 
 the school fast as your horse can travel. Tell the 
 Page girl not to let Duncan touch the boy till 
 the Jordan man comes or the train comes without 
 him. You understand? " 
 
 "You bet you!" says she. "It s splendid! 
 We ll save the boy and Mr. Hartley will be all 
 right with her. Oh, I m so glad Mr. Van Brunt 
 wa n t here ! " 
 
 She whirled the horse around and off she went. 
 I give one more look at the weather and then ran 
 after Hartley. Save the boy! A considerable 
 bigger chance of not saving ourselves. Well, my 
 school teacher always used to say I d be drowned 
 some day if I wa n t hung first. 
 
 I had one reef in when the Dora Bassett swung 
 clear of the outside point of Ozone Island cove. I 
 hated to take another, for I wanted to make time.
 
 29 2 MR. PRATT 
 
 But I had to take it afore we tacked at the end of 
 the first leg. Twas pretty nigh a dead beat and 
 the sloop was laying over till I thought sure she d 
 fill. The waves was as big, almost, as ever I see in 
 the bay, and when one would fetch us on the star 
 board bow the biggest half of it would shoot clean 
 from stem to stern. We was soaked afore we d 
 hardly started. It couldn t have been much worse 
 unless twas the middle of February. 
 
 I had the tiller and Hartley was for ard in the 
 cockpit. I was using the mainsail altogether, al 
 though later on I did use some of the jib to help 
 her point up to wind ard. There was plenty of 
 water and would be for hours, so I could give her 
 the centerboard full. That didn t bother us 
 not then. 
 
 I was too busy to speak and Martin didn t seem 
 to care to. He set there, looking out ahead, and 
 when he turned, so s I could see his face, it was 
 set and quiet. And in his eyes was the look that 
 I d seen there once afore the day of the pig race. 
 I wouldn t have known him for the reckless, lazy 
 chap he d been for the last month or so. 
 
 The only thing he said to me at this time was, 
 as I remember it, something like this : 
 
 " I know that Doctor Jordan," he says. " I
 
 A CROSS THE BAY 293 
 
 met him at Cambridge at a football game. I was 
 there at college and father came over for the game. 
 The doctor was one of father s friends." 
 
 " That s lucky," says I. " Maybe that 11 give 
 you some pull." 
 
 " Perhaps so," says he. 
 
 " If he won t come," I asks, " what 11 you 
 do?" 
 
 " He ll have to come," was all the answer he 
 made. 
 
 Even this little mite of talk meant hollering 
 your lungs loose. The wind was rising all the 
 time, the sea kept getting more rugged as we got 
 where the bay was wider, and the splashing and 
 banging was worse than a waterwheel working 
 double watches. After awhile I made Hartley 
 set side of me, so that, when I wanted anything, I 
 could grab his arm. 
 
 This was after it got dark. And it got dark 
 early. Likewise it begun to rain. The storm 
 that we d had for the last few days seemed to be 
 blowing back over us. Seems as if it ought to 
 have rained and blown itself out by this time, but 
 we had proof that it hadn t. 
 
 We wa n t making scarcely anything on our 
 tacks. The Dora Bassett s a good wind ard boat,
 
 294 MR. PRATT 
 
 too, but she d fall off and fall off. By and by the 
 dark and rain got so thick that I couldn t see the 
 shore lights, and I had to run by compass and 
 guess. There wa n t likely to be any other blame 
 fools afloat to run into us, still I gave Hartley a 
 horn to blow in case there should be. 
 
 Twas lucky I did. Along about twelve, when 
 we was somewheres in the middle of the bay off 
 Sandy Bend, I should think it seemed to me that 
 I heard a toot in answer to one of Hartley s. He 
 heard it, too, I guess, for he commenced to blow 
 hard and fast. Twan t much use, for any 
 thing that was to wind ard of us wouldn t have 
 heard a sound. And we only heard that one, 
 I judge, as the noise was blown past us down 
 the gale. We listened and listened, but no more 
 come. 
 
 All at once we both yelled. Out of the muddle 
 of rain and black comes poking a big jibboom and 
 a bowsprit. Next minute a two-master, with only 
 a jib and reefed fo sail set, went booming by just 
 under our stern. I could see a wink of her 
 for ard lights, and a glimpse of a feller holding a 
 lantern by her rail and staring down at us. His 
 face was big-eyed and scared. I ve wondered 
 since how ours looked to him. All the rest was
 
 A CROSS THE BAY 295 
 
 black hull and waves and roaring. A mackerel 
 boat trying to run into Naubeckit Harbor, I guess 
 she was. I cal late the afternoon lull had fooled 
 em into trying. 
 
 We didn t say nothing. Only Hartley looked 
 up at me and grinned. I could see him in the 
 lantern light. I shook my head and grinned 
 back. 
 
 All the time I kept thinking to myself, " Sol 
 Pratt, you old gray-headed fool, this is your final 
 bust of craziness. You can t make it; you knew 
 afore you started you couldn t. You ll be in 
 among the shoals pretty soon and then you and the 
 Dora Bassett 11 go to smithereens and cart that 
 poor innocent city man with you. He don t know 
 that, but you do. And all on account of a red 
 headed little toughy from the back alleys of New 
 York, and a girl that ain t none of your relations. 
 You deserve what s coming to you." 
 
 And yet, even while I was thinking it, I was glad 
 I was making the try. Glad for Redny s sake; 
 particular glad on account of what it might mean 
 to Martin and Agnes; and glad, too, just out of 
 general cussedness. You see, twas like a fight; 
 and there s a heap of satisfaction once in a while in 
 a real old-fashioned, knock down and drag out,
 
 39 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 rough and tumble fight that is, when you re 
 fighting for anything worth the row. 
 
 The storm kept on ; seemed as if twould never 
 let up. And we kept on, too, three reefs in by this 
 time, and the jib down. And with every tack I 
 cal lated we was making better headway towards 
 the bottom than anywheres else. I couldn t see 
 nothing to get my bearings from, and hadn t no 
 idea where we was, except the general one that, up 
 to now, and by God s mercy, we was afloat. 
 
 Then, at last, the gale begun to go down. A 
 landsman wouldn t have noticed the change, but I 
 did. It stopped raining, and the wind was easing 
 up. By and by the haze broke and I caught a 
 glimpse of Middle Ground light, almost abreast 
 of us. I unbuttoned my ileskin jacket and looked 
 at my watch. Half-past two, and only three- 
 quarters of the way to Wapatomac. We d been 
 eight hours and a half coming a distance that I ve 
 made over and over again, in that very sloop, 
 in less than three. Hartley caught my sleeve. 
 
 ; Will we get there?" he shouts. His face 
 was all shining with the wet and his hair was too 
 heavy with water even to blow in the wind. 
 
 " Don t know," I hollers back. " We ll try." 
 
 He nodded. The clearing of that haze had
 
 ACROSS THE BAY 297 
 
 helped me considerable. I could sight my marks, 
 the lights, now, and we made faster time. 
 
 At last, after what seemed a fortnight more, 
 come the first streak of gray daylight. The clouds 
 was breaking up and it would be a nice day later 
 on, I judged. But there was a living gale still 
 blowing and the waves was running savage over 
 the shoals ahead. The channel was narrowing up 
 and I had to watch out every second. I sent Hart 
 ley amidships to tend centerboard. 
 
 We beat in through Long Point Reach. The 
 life-saving station is on the Point, just abaft the 
 lighthouse. I see the feller in the station tower 
 open the window and lean out to watch us. I cal- 
 late he wondered what asylum had turned that 
 pair of lunatics loose. 
 
 Past the Point, and now we come about for the 
 run afore the wind up the narrows. Wapatomac 
 village was in plain sight. 
 
 " With any sort of luck," says I, " we ll be 
 alongside the dock by quarter-past five. The down 
 train leaves at twenty-five minutes to eight. You 
 can thank your stars, Mr. Hartley." 
 
 Twas a pretty cock-sure thing to say, and I 
 ought to have known better than to crow afore we 
 was out of the woods. But we d come through so
 
 29 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 far enough sight better than a reasonable man 
 could expect. 
 
 The narrows is a wicked place. The channel 
 is fairly straight, but scant width, and on each side 
 of it is a stretch of bars and rips that are bad 
 enough in decent weather. Now they was as good 
 an imitation of as salt-water Tophet as I want to 
 see. Strip after strip of breakers, with lines of 
 biling, twisting slicks and whirlpools between. 
 And the tide tearing through. 
 
 I sent Hartley for ard to look out for shoals. 
 He had one knee on the edge of the cabin roof and 
 was climbing up, when I happened to glance astern. 
 There was an old " he " wave coming a regular 
 deep water grayback. 
 
 " Look out ! " I yells. " Stand by! " 
 
 That wave hit us like a house tumbling down. 
 I d braced myself and was, in a way, ready for it, 
 but Hartley wa n t. He was knocked for ard on 
 his face. Then, as the bow jumped up, he was 
 chucked straight backwards, landing on his shoul 
 der and left arm against the centerboard well. He 
 turned a full somerset and his feet knocked mine 
 from under me. Down I went and the tiller was 
 yanked out of my hands. 
 
 Waves like that hunt in droves, generally speak-
 
 ACROSS THE BAY 299 
 
 ing. The next one was right on schedule time. 
 Up we went, and sideways like a railroad train. 
 Then down, " Bump ! " on the bottom. 
 
 Up again, and down. "Thump! Crunch!" 
 
 That time we struck with all our heft. The 
 Dora Bassett shook all over. She riz, still shak 
 ing, and the next wave threw her clean over the 
 bar. We was in deep water for a minute, but 
 just a little ways off was another line of breakers. 
 And astern was the rudder, broke clean off, and 
 floating away. 
 
 Twas no time for fooling. Hartley got to his 
 knees, white, and holding his left arm with his 
 right hand. I jumped and cast off the sheet. She 
 floated then on a more even keel. Then I yanked 
 loose the oar from its cleats alongside the rail 
 and got it over the stern to steer with. 
 
 This got her under control, and down the lane, 
 between them two lines of breakers, we went, me 
 with the sheet in one hand, the oar braced under 
 t other arm, and the three-reefed mainsail well out. 
 The cockpit was half full of water. 
 
 The lane of deep water narrowed up ahead of 
 us and there was a kind of gate, as you might 
 say, at the end. Hartley looked at me and I at 
 him.
 
 3 oo MR. PRATT 
 
 " Can you? " he asks. He was white as paper, 
 but not from being scared I was sure. His 
 left arm hung down straight and he kept rub 
 bing it. 
 
 " Lord knows," I says. " Are you hurt? " 
 
 He didn t answer; just shook his head. On 
 went the Dora Bassett. Bless the old girl s heart ! 
 She was doing her best to pull us through. 
 
 The gate was just in front of our nose. I set 
 my teeth and headed her for the middle of it. A 
 jiffy more, and the crazy breakers jumped at us 
 from both sides. Their froth flew over us in 
 chunks. Then we was through, and I fetched my 
 first decent breath. 
 
 We was in a kind of pond now, where we had 
 elbow room. 
 
 Martin looked astern. " Here comes a boat," 
 says he. 
 
 Twas the lifeboat from the station. They d 
 seen our trouble and was coming full tilt. I hadn t 
 ever been took off my own boat by no life-savers, 
 and I wa n t going to begin. 
 
 " Heave to ! " hails the crew cap n from the 
 boat. " We re coming to take you off." 
 
 I didn t answer. 
 
 " Heave to! " he yells again. " Heave to! "
 
 A CROSS THE BAY 301 
 
 I turned my head a little ways. 
 
 " Go home and get your breakfast," I sings out. 
 " We re busy." 
 
 They kept on for a ways, and then they give it 
 up. I ran two or three more of them lanes and 
 then, when I had the chance, I dropped my main 
 sail and histed the jib. And with that jib and the 
 oar I picked my way for another spell, in and out 
 and betwixt and between. At last we slid past 
 the Wapatomac breakwater and up to the wharf. 
 A nice piece of work for anybody s boat, if I do 
 say it. 
 
 Hartley seemed to think so, too, for says he, 
 " Skipper, that was beautiful. You re a wonder." 
 
 " Twenty minutes of six," says I. " We re on 
 time." 
 
 There was an early-bird lobsterman on the 
 wharf, come down to see how many of his pots 
 had gone adrift in the night. He stood and stared 
 at us. 
 
 " God sakes ! " says he. " Where d you come 
 from?" 
 
 " Wellmouth," says I, making fast to a ring 
 bolt. 
 
 " In her? " he says, pointing to the sloop. " In 
 this gale? Never in the world! "
 
 3 o2 MR. PRATT 
 
 "All right. Then we didn t." I hadn t no 
 time to waste arguing. 
 
 44 Good land of love ! " he says, kind of to him 
 self. "Say! she must be something of a boat." 
 
 I looked at the poor old Dora Bassett. Rudder 
 gone centerboard smashed, rail carried away, and 
 hull nigh filled with water. 
 
 44 She was" says I. " Considerable of a boat."
 
 POOR REDNY 
 
 HARTLEY had climbed on the wharf and 
 now he was heading for the village. I 
 got the sloop fast, after a fashion, and 
 then run over and caught up with him. He was 
 walking with long steps and looking straight 
 ahead. His left fist was in the side pocket of his 
 jacket and his face was set and pale under the tan. 
 I happened to bump into him as I come alongside, 
 and he jumped and gave a little groan. 
 
 " What s the matter with that arm of yours? " 
 I asked, anxious. He d stopped for a second and 
 was biting his lips together. 
 
 " Nothing," he says, short. " Bruised a lit 
 tle, I guess. Where s the hotel? " 
 
 " Up the main road a piece. That s it, on top 
 of the hill." 
 
 " Come on then," says he, walking faster than 
 ever. 
 
 We went through Wapatomac village like we 
 303
 
 3 o 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 was walking for money. Some of the town folks 
 was just getting up, and you could see smoke com 
 ing from kitchen chimneys and window shades 
 being hoisted. Once in a while, where the fami 
 lies was particularly early risers, I smelt fried 
 potatoes cooking for breakfast; them and smoked 
 herring. In the center, by the post-office, the fel 
 ler that keeps the market was just taking down his 
 store shutters. He looked at us kind of odd. 
 
 " Good morning," he says. " Going to fair off 
 at last, ain t it? " 
 
 " Guess likely," says I, keeping on. 
 
 "You been on the water, ain t you? " he asks. 
 " Get caught down to the Point? " 
 
 Long Point s a great place for Wapatomac folks 
 to go on clamming and fishing trips. I suppose he 
 thought we d been out the day afore, when it 
 cleared that time, and had had to put in at the 
 station over night. We must have looked like 
 we d been through the mill. Both of us was sop 
 ping wet, and I had on rubber boots and a sou 
 wester. I d thrown off my ileskin coat at the 
 wharf. 
 
 I didn t stop to explain. I had to save my 
 breath to keep up with Martin. The nigher he 
 got to the hotel the faster he walked.
 
 POOR REDNY 305 
 
 The Wapatomac House is about the toniest 
 summer place on our part of the coast. A great 
 big building, with piazzas and a band stand, and 
 windows and wind-mills and bowling alleys till 
 you can t rest. We turned in between the stone 
 posts at the end of the driveway and went pound 
 ing across the lawns and flower beds. 
 
 There was a sleepy-looking clerk behind the 
 desk in the big hall. Nobody else was in sight, 
 and the whole outfit of empty chairs and scattered 
 newspapers had that lonesome look of having been 
 up all night. Oh, yes! and there was a colored 
 man mopping the floor. 
 
 Hartley went up to the desk, leaving muddy foot 
 marks right where the darkey had been scrubbing. 
 
 " Good morning," he says to the clerk. " Doc 
 tor Jordan, of Providence, is one of your guests, 
 isn t he?" 
 
 The clerk put down the book he was reading 
 and looked us over. He done it deliberate and 
 chilly, same as hotel clerks always do. If there s 
 any one mortal that can make the average man feel 
 like apologizing for living without a license, it s 
 a slick, high collared, fancy shirt-bosomed hotel 
 clerk. 
 
 " What? " says the clerk, frosty and slow.
 
 3o6 MR. PRATT 
 
 11 Doctor Jordan, of Providence. Is he here? " 
 
 His Majesty looked at his book again afore he 
 answered. Then he put his thumb between the 
 pages to mark the place, and condescends to drawl 
 out: 
 
 " What do you want with him ? " 
 
 For once he d made a mistake. There are 
 times when it ain t wise to judge a feller by his 
 general get-up. Martin stiffened, and he spoke 
 clear and sharp. 
 
 " Answer my question, if you please," says he. 
 " Is the doctor here? " 
 
 41 No, he ain t." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " Gone." 
 
 I felt sick. Maybe Hartley did too, but he 
 didn t show it . 
 
 " Where has he gone? " he asks. 
 
 " I don t know that I ve got to " 
 
 " / know. And for your own good, my friend, 
 I advise that you tell me. Where is Doctor Jor 
 dan?" 
 
 The Emperor come down off his throne a little. 
 I cal late he figgered that twas good policy. 
 
 "He s gone to Brantboro," he says. "He 
 went yesterday morning and he s to leave there
 
 POOR REDNY 307 
 
 for Boston this forenoon. Then he s going to 
 Bar Harbor for the rest of his vacation. Any 
 thing else you d like to know? " 
 
 This last part was loaded to the gunwale with 
 sarcasm. 
 
 " Yes," says Hartley emphatic. " Where is 
 the Doctor staying in Brantboro? " 
 
 " Cold Spring House. Want to know what he 
 pays for his room? " 
 
 Martin didn t answer. He walked to the door. 
 I stopped for a jiffy. 
 
 " See here, my smart aleck," says I to the clerk, 
 " you ll have some more fun from this later on, 
 when your boss hears of it. Do you know who 
 tis you ve been sassing? That young man is John 
 D. Vanderbilt of New York." 
 
 There is some satisfaction in a first-class lie. 
 It done me good to see that clerk shrivel up. 
 
 Martin was calling to me. " Sol," he asks, 
 like a flash, " how can I get to Brantboro? " 
 
 " You can t in time to catch that morning 
 train. Brantboro s ten mile off, and the train that 
 gets here at twenty-five minutes of eight, leaves 
 there at seven-fifteen. That was the one we was 
 to have the doctor on. And it s past six now." 
 
 He spun around on his heel. " Is the telegraph
 
 3 o8 MR. PRATT 
 
 line to Brantboro working?" he asked the 
 clerk. 
 
 "No, sir! no, sir." My! but he was polite. 
 41 I m sorry to say not, sir." 
 
 " Can I get a horse here? " 
 
 "The livery-stable is right around the corner; 
 but I don t think " 
 
 We was at that livery-stable in less than two 
 shakes. The feller that took care of the horses 
 and slept in the stable loft was up and sweeping 
 out. 
 
 " Have you got a horse that will take me to 
 Brantboro in half an hour? " asks the Twin. 
 
 The feller stared at him. " Be you crazy? " 
 says he. 
 
 Martin didn t answer. " Whose machine is 
 that?" he asks. 
 
 He was pointing to a big automobile in the 
 stable. A great big red thing, with a shiny painted 
 hull and nickel-plated running rigging. 
 
 " Mr. Shearer s. He s away for a week and 
 we re keeping it for him." 
 
 "Can I hire it?" 
 
 The feller s mouth fell open like twas on hinges. 
 
 " Hire it? Hire Mr. Shearer s automobile? " 
 says he, " Well, I ll be darned ! "
 
 POOR REDNY 309 
 
 Where s your employer?" asks Hartley, 
 quick. 
 
 "Hey?" 
 
 Your boss! " I sings out, dancing up and 
 down. " For the land sakes wake up ! Where 
 is he?" 
 
 " In the house, I guess. Where do you " 
 
 We met the livery-stable owner just coming 
 out of his kitchen with a pan of leavings for the 
 pig. He d just turned out. I knew him; his 
 name was Ben Baker. Martin went at him hot 
 foot, speaking in short sentences. 
 
 " I want to hire that auto in your stable," he 
 says. " I must get to Brantboro before seven 
 o clock. I ll pay any price. But I must have it." 
 
 Then there was more arguing. Baker said no. 
 Was we crazy? He couldn t let another man s 
 auto to the Almighty himself. And Mr. Shearer s 
 auto, of all things ! Why, Shearer would kill him. 
 And so forth and so on. 
 
 But Hartley kept cool. He must have the ma 
 chine. He d be responsible for damages. He 
 explained about the doctor. 
 
 " I ll pay you so and so," says he. Never 
 mind the price he offered. It was so big that I 
 wouldn t be believed if I told it. Baker didn t
 
 3 io MR. PRATT 
 
 believe it either till Martin pulled out a roll of 
 bills and showed him. 
 
 " I ll buy the thing if necessary," says he. 
 " But I ll have it. Come, skipper." 
 
 " The shofer s up at Shearer s house," says 
 Baker. " He " 
 
 " Never mind the shofer. I can run it. Send 
 your man with us, and I ll leave the machine in 
 his care at Brantboro. Then the shofer can come 
 after it. I ll write to Mr. Shearer and explain. 
 Come on." 
 
 " It s all right, Ben," I says. " He ll do all he 
 tells you, and more. You ll never make a chunk 
 of money any easier." 
 
 Baker followed us to the barn, saying " No," all 
 the time. He kept on saying it while the Twin 
 was getting up steam, or some such trick, in the 
 auto. He said it even after he d got the money 
 in his hand. The hired man climbed in behind. 
 Hartley and me was in front. We chuff-chuffed 
 out of the stable door. 
 
 "For heaven s sake!" hollers Baker, "take 
 care of the thing. I don t know what 11 come to 
 me for this job when Shearer hears of it." 
 
 We got down to the street. I looked at my 
 watch. It was twenty-five minutes past six.
 
 POOR REDNY 31 1 
 
 " Now, Sol," says Hartley, " you must help me 
 if I need you. I can use only one hand, so you pull 
 whatever lever I tell you to. Hold your hair on, 
 We re going to go" 
 
 We went oh yes, we went ! I d never rode in 
 a buzz cart afore and inside of five minutes I was 
 figgering that I d never live to ride in one again. 
 Suffering! how we did fly I 
 
 Lucky twas early. We didn t meet a soul on 
 the road. If we had they d had lively times get 
 ting out of our way. Away ahead somewheres 
 there d be a house with a dog scooting out of the 
 gate, his mouth open ready to bark. Next minute 
 we d go past that house like a sky-rocket, and the 
 pup would be digging a breathing hole through the 
 dust behind us. I didn t have to pull a lever, for 
 we had a clear field. Good thing I didn t, because 
 I was too scared to know my hands from my feet. 
 The stable man was actually blue. Next time I 
 see Baker he told me that the feller had nightmare 
 for a fortnight afterwards, and they could hear 
 him yelling " Whoa ! " in his sleep as plain as 
 could be. And they in the house with the win 
 dows shut. 
 
 Afore I had time to think straight, scarcely, or 
 remember to say more than a line or two of " Now
 
 3 i2 MR. PRATT, 
 
 I lay me," we was sizzling through Brantboro. 
 We whirled into the big yard of the Cold Spring 
 House and hauled up by the steps. Hartley piled 
 out and I followed him. We d used up just 
 eighteen minutes. 
 
 " Here ! " says he to the clerk, a twin brother 
 of the one at Wapatomac; " take this to Dr Jor 
 dan s room." 
 
 He scribbled something on a slip of paper and 
 chucked it across the desk. The clerk yelled for 
 a boy and the boy took the paper and lit out. 
 Pretty quick he comes back. 
 
 " He wants you to come right up, Mister," says 
 he. 
 
 " Good I " says Martin, tossing him half a dol 
 lar. " Lead the way." 
 
 The youngster started for the stairs, grinning 
 like a punkin lantern. I flopped into a chair and 
 felt myself all over to make sure I hadn t shook 
 no part of me loose on the trip. Likewise I 
 watched the clock. 
 
 In ten minutes more the Twin comes downstairs, 
 and Doctor Jordan was with him. The doctor 
 was a big gray-haired man with a pleasant face. 
 He looked as though he d dressed in a hurry, and 
 he had a traveling satchel in his hand.
 
 POOR REDNY 313 
 
 " I ll send you a check for my bill later," he says 
 to the clerk. " All ready, Mr. Hartley." 
 
 We went out to the automobile. Martin started 
 her up and we whizzed for the depot. 
 
 " Great Scott! " says the doctor, " I feel as if 
 I had been pulled out of bed by the hair. Nobody 
 but your father s son could do this to me, Hartley. 
 Have you fellers fed yet? " 
 
 The Twin was too busy with the steering wheel 
 to answer. I done it for him. 
 
 u No, sir," says I ; " not since yesterday noon. 
 Nor slept since night afore last." 
 
 Martin run the automobile into one of the horse 
 sheds by the depot. Then he passed the stable 
 man the bill that happened to be on the outside of 
 his roll. Twas a tenner, for I caught a glimpse 
 of it. 
 
 " Here," he says; " take this and wait here till 
 the shofer comes for the machine. Well, skipper, 
 we re on time, after all." 
 
 So we was, and ahead of it. We waited on the 
 depot platform. I noticed that Hartley wa n t 
 saying much. Now that the excitement was over, 
 he seemed to me to be mighty quiet. Once, when 
 he walked, I thought he staggered. And he was 
 awful white.
 
 3I4 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Sol," he says to me, just as the train hove in 
 sight; " you needn t come with us, unless you want 
 to. Maybe you d like to stay and attend to your 
 boat." 
 
 I looked at him. " No," says I. " I m going 
 to see it through. The boat can wait." 
 
 I h;id to give him a boost up the car steps. As 
 he got to a seat, he staggered again. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, quiet and with little stops 
 between words, " I m afraid you ll have to 
 look out for the doctor. I m believe I m 
 going to to make a fool of myself." 
 
 And then he flops over on the cushions in a 
 dead faint. 
 
 Doctor Jordan was at him in a second. 
 
 " It s his arm, I guess," says I. " He bruised 
 it aboard the sloop." 
 
 The doctor pulled up Hartley s coat sleeve and 
 felt of the arm. 
 
 " Bruised it! " he says. " I should say he did. 
 The arm is broken." 
 
 Now you can bet that Martin Hartley wa n t 
 the only sick man aboard that train just then. 
 There was another one and he d been christened 
 Solomon. When I heard that doctor say that the 
 Twin s arm was broken I give you my word I
 
 POOR REDNY 315 
 
 went cold all over. Think of the grit of the feller 
 the clean up and down grit of him ! Rampaging 
 around, running automobiles and chasing doctors, 
 and all that with a broken arm. And never even 
 mentioning it. I took off my hat to that New 
 Yorker. Crazy or not he could have my vote for 
 any job from pound-keeper to President. 
 
 I wa n t much good, but Doctor Jordan was a 
 whole team and 1 the dog under the wagon. He 
 sent me for the conductor and between us we got 
 Hartley into the baggage car and away from the 
 crowd of passengers. 
 
 Then we rigged up a kind of bed for him on a 
 pile of trunks and the doctor went to work. 
 
 He got Martin s coat off and his shirt-sleeve up 
 and had a good look at the arm. Hartley opened 
 his eyes while the examination was going on. 
 
 " Broken, doctor, isn t it? " he asks, weak. 
 
 " Yes," says Jordan. " Only a simple fracture 
 of the forearm though. We ll get off at the next 
 station and find a comfortable place for you." 
 
 But he wouldn t hear of it. Not much he 
 wouldn t. He was going to see that that doctor 
 went straight on to Eastwich. Said he d had too 
 much trouble getting him on that train to let him 
 off it now, even if twas his neck instead of his arm
 
 3 i6 MR. PRATT 
 
 that was cracked. There was considerable pow 
 wow, but finally Jordan give in. 
 
 " All right," he says. " Needs must if the old 
 gentleman drives. The arm is in better shape 
 than you deserve, considering how you ve treated 
 it. I ll make a temporary bandage, put you off 
 at your home station, and come back and set the 
 bone as soon as I can leave the boy. Hand me 
 that box over there, conductor, please." 
 
 With a slat off a box in the baggage, and pieces 
 of Hartley s shirt, he spliced that arm as pretty as 
 a picture. Then he rigged up a sling made of a 
 couple of handkerchiefs, and there was the patient 
 in pretty fair shape, considering. 
 
 When we got to Wellmouth the conductor a 
 mighty decent feller, he was held up the train 
 while I made arrangements with the driver of the 
 Old Home House depot wagon to take Martin to 
 the hotel. I was for going with him, but he put 
 his foot down on that plan in a hurry. 
 
 " No, sir! " says he. " I want you to see that 
 the goods are delivered. You get Jordan to the 
 school on time and find out if there s anything else 
 you can do to help over there. Then you can 
 come back if you want to ; but don t you show your 
 head around me till the contract is carried out. If
 
 POOR REDNY 317 
 
 you do well, my right arm s in pretty good con 
 dition yet." 
 
 In spite of the pain I knew he was in he man 
 aged to pump up a grin. I grinned back, but there 
 was a big lump just astern of my swallowing gear. 
 
 The train got to Eastwich on time, and Lord 
 James was waiting with the team at the depot. 
 We drove to the Fresh Air farm like we was going 
 to a fire. Miss Talford was at the door. 
 
 " Here s the doctor," I says. " How s the 
 boy?" 
 
 " The pain is a little easier now, we think," says 
 she. " Come right upstairs, Doctor Jordan. It 
 was so good of you to come. Agnes hasn t slept 
 since he was taken ill." 
 
 I followed the doctor and the Talford girl up to 
 the bedroom. A mighty pretty room twas, too; 
 all flowered paper, and colored pictures and sun 
 shine. But I didn t notice these things much. 
 
 Poor little Redny! There he laid, in the mid 
 dle of the big bed, his brick top shining against the 
 pillow and the freckles on his nose like red paint 
 spots on a whitewashed wall. He knew me and 
 the first thing he said was, " Hello, Andrew Jack 
 son." That was the name I d always called him. 
 
 Agnes Page was there, sitting by the bed, hold-
 
 3 ,8 MR. PRATT 
 
 ing the little feller s hand. She looked mighty 
 hollow-eyed and pale. She shook Doctor Jordan s 
 hand and thanked him for coming. She shook 
 mine too, and I noticed how her hand trembled. 
 
 The Duncan doctor was there, ready to begin 
 his carving. Dried-up young squirt, with whiskers 
 as scattering as corn-stalks in the Ozone garden. 
 
 " Er Doctor Jordan," says he, " awfully 
 sorry you ve been put to all this trouble. Entirely 
 without my sanction, I assure you. A most simple 
 case of appendicitis. I should have operated im 
 mediately whether you arrived or not." 
 
 Jordan went across to the bed. He looked the 
 boy over, careful as could be, thumping him, and 
 listening, and asking questions about where he felt 
 the worst, and all that. After a while he looked 
 at Duncan, and says he : 
 
 : The pain doesn t seem to be localized as yet." 
 
 " No er not yet," answers t other doctor, 
 pompous. " But, of course, that s quite usual 
 often the regular thing. Er yes." 
 
 Jordan nodded. Then he asked a few more 
 questions ; when the youngster was took sick, and 
 how it begun, and the like of that. Finally he 
 says to Redny: 
 
 " What have you been eating lately? "
 
 POOR REDNY 319 
 
 " Aw, I don t know, sir. Miss Agnes give me 
 some jelly and some mush and cream and " 
 
 " Yes, I know. But those are what you ve 
 had inside the house. What have you eaten out 
 side ? I noticed an orchard back of the farm here. 
 There were some very pretty late apples on the 
 trees. How do they taste? " 
 
 Redny looked worried, seemed to me. He 
 fidgeted wUli the edge of the bed-spread. 
 
 " I ain t et only a few of em," he says. " The 
 ones on thr. ground was wormy, so " 
 
 Miss Agnes broke in here. " He couldn t have 
 eaten those apples, Doctor," she says. " I ve 
 expressly forbidden the children to touch them." 
 
 " Yes, of course," says Jordan. " But I ve had 
 the advantage of being a boy once myself. The 
 apples on the ground were wormy, you say. How 
 were those on the trees ? And how many did you 
 eat well, say night before last? " 
 
 " Only six," says Redny, beginning to snuffle. 
 " I knocked em down with a rock. They was 
 
 " I see," Jordan smiled, quiet, and stood up. 
 " Doctor," he says to Duncan, " I wouldn t oper 
 ate yet awhile. He seems to be much easier now. 
 I think it will be safe to wait."
 
 3 2o MR. PRATT 
 
 Duncan bristles up and waved his hand, pomp 
 ous. He was going to speak, I guess, but all at 
 once the sense of what Jordan meant seemed to 
 work down through his skull. He looked at me. 
 I was beginning to grin. Then he looked at Ag 
 nes and Margaret; they looked queer, and Miss 
 Talford s mouth was twitching at the corners. He 
 turned as red as a smallpox flag. 
 
 " I I why didn t you tell me about those 
 apples, boy? " he asks, sharp. 
 
 " You never asked me," snuffles Redny. " All 
 you asked me was what I had for supper, and I 
 told you." 
 
 " Green apples, hey? " says I, more to myself 
 than anybody else. " Humph! Well, they never 
 operated for them when I was a boy." 
 
 I went down to the kitchen pretty soon after 
 that. Eureka was there and she and me had a 
 big talk. Duncan come stomping down a little 
 later and went out and slammed the door. 
 
 " Humph ! " snaps Eureka, bobbing her head 
 the way she always done; " he ain t going to get 
 the chance to try his tricks on that boy. Pesky 
 thing ! Why don t he run a butcher shop ? Then 
 he could cut up and saw and be happy, and nobody 
 M be killed except them that was dead already."
 
 POOR REDNY 321 
 
 By and by Agnes came to the door and called 
 to me. 
 
 " Mr. Pratt," she says, when her and me was 
 in the hall together, " how can I thank you for 
 what you ve done for me and for that poor little 
 child?" 
 
 You can t," I says, short. " Because I ain t 
 done nothing. It s Mr. Hartley that " 
 
 " I know. Doctor Jordan has told me some. 
 Please tell me the rest. How is he? Is his arm 
 badly hurt? Is he suffering? Do you think 
 there s any danger? " 
 
 Here was my chance. And I just spread my 
 self, too, now I tell you. I spun the whole yarn, 
 from the time the Dora Bassett pulled out of 
 Horsefoot Bar cove to when Hartley was loaded 
 into the Old Home depot wagon. 
 
 " He s a brick, that s what he is," says I, finally. 
 " And he always was one. And there s one thing 
 more I m going to tell, now that I ve got my hand 
 in, Miss Page. That s about that business with 
 Washy Sparrow. Mr. Hartley wa n t no more to 
 be blamed for that than a " 
 
 She stopped me. " Please don t," she says. 
 " I know ; Eureka told me. And Mr. Pratt," she 
 adds, and her face lit up like there was a glory
 
 322 MR. PRATT 
 
 inside it; "I m not going to ask you to beg his 
 pardon for me. But will you tell him that, as 
 soon as I can leave Dennis, I m coming to Well- 
 mouth to ask his pardon myself, and to thank 
 him? Tell him that, please." 
 
 Eureka and me drove back to Wellmouth to 
 gether. If that old buggy had been trimmed up 
 to match the feelings of the two inside it twould 
 have been the gayest turnout that ever come down 
 the pike road. No circus cart would have been 
 in it. 
 
 But poor Van I
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 
 
 1LEFT Eureka at Nate Scudder s. She was 
 going to have him take his dory and row 
 her over to the Island. She was to see to 
 things there till I come. Dewey was all right and 
 over his cold, she told me, so she could take up her 
 regular job again. Scudder was glad to see us. 
 I don t know but he d been scared that his whole 
 gang of lodgers had cleared out and left him in 
 the lurch. I told him about the doctor chase. 
 His eyes stuck out. 
 
 " Godfrey scissors! " says he. " It must have 
 cost that Hartley man a lot for that automobile." 
 
 "Cost! "says I. " You bet it did! " 
 
 " I presume likely that ll come out of the doc 
 tor s bill, won t it? " 
 
 " No," I says, scornful. " Land of Goshen ! 
 No. Why should it?" 
 
 " Well, if twas me I d take some of it out. 
 The doc hadn t no right to be way over to Brant- 
 boro after giving folks notice through the papers 
 
 323
 
 3 2 4 MR. PRATT 
 
 that he was to Wapatomac." He thought a min 
 ute more and then he says, " Say, Sol ; don t you 
 cal late there s a commission coming to us from 
 Ben Baker? He d never let that auto wagon if 
 we hadn t provided the customer." 
 
 Didn t that beat all? Sometimes I think Nate 
 Scudder 11 rise up in his coffin afore they bury him 
 and want a commission from the undertaker. He ll 
 never rest easy and see all that cash going to some 
 body else when he s furnishing the center of in 
 terest. 
 
 I found Martin planted easy and pretty com 
 fortable in an upstairs front room at the Old 
 Home. His arm was hurting him some, of 
 course, but other ways he felt better, having had 
 a nap and somethi * to eat. He wa n t sick in 
 bed at least; and thrt s how I expected to find him. 
 
 I told him the good news from Redny, and it 
 pleased him most to death. Then I give him the 
 Page girl s message. He didn t say much, but 
 twas plain to see how he felt. I promised to be 
 back next morning, and then I said good-by. 
 His good-by to me was sort of absent-minded. I 
 left him smoking and looking dreamy out of the 
 window. 
 
 I was in a hurry to get to Ozone kit I couldn t
 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 325 
 
 help stopping where they was digging the cellar 
 for the new part of the hotel, and looking for our 
 old friend Washy Sparrow. He was wheeling 
 dirt in a wheelbarrow and he seemed mighty will 
 ing to let go of the handles and talk to me. 
 
 " Hello, Washy," I says. " How s the stomach 
 and lungs these days? " 
 
 He groaned. " Pratt," says he, " I m dying 
 on my feet." 
 
 " Well," I says, looking down at his cowhides, 
 " you d ought to have plenty of room to do it in. 
 What are you dying of dropsy? You re five 
 pounds heavier than when I see you last." 
 
 He shook his head. " Tell Reky I m doing my 
 best to forgive her," he says. " When I m gone 
 maybe she ll think of how she treated me. Say! 
 how soon s she coming home? Lycurgus can t 
 cook fit to eat." 
 
 I told him Eureka d be home that night. It 
 seemed to give him a little more hopes. 
 
 " When you see Miss Page," says he, " just tell 
 her I want to talk to her, won t you? Tell her 
 I m most through with this world and I want to 
 speak to her about providing for the children. 
 Ask her to come over and see me." 
 
 Just then the foreman yelled to him to stop
 
 32 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 gassing and hustle that wheelbarrow along. He 
 done it, surprising prompt too, I thought. I 
 asked the foreman about it. 
 
 u Oh!" he says, "Mr. Brown s give me the 
 receipt for him. Every time he groans or coughs 
 I set him to lugging stones ; the louder the groans 
 the bigger the rocks. He s getting well fast." 
 
 I took Nate s dory and went across to the Island. 
 Eureka was up to her elbows in work. 
 
 " Sakes alive!" says she. "Who s been let 
 ting this house get this way? The tea kettle bot 
 tom s burnt out and somebody s been trying to eat 
 the axe. And the beds are so wet that the feathers 
 are beginning to grow." 
 
 " That s the Natural Life," I told her. " The 
 Heavenlies lived it for a whole day." 
 
 " I thought they lived it afore I come here at 
 all," she says. " Things was bad enough then, 
 but nothing like this." 
 
 Twas me that was the Natural then," says I. 
 " This last attack hit the Twins." 
 
 " Do you know who I think ought to live the 
 Natural Life? " she asks. 
 
 I said I didn t. 
 
 " Nobody but natural born idiots, that s who." 
 
 " 1 guess that s who s been living it," says I.
 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 327 
 
 Next morning I went over to see Hartley. He 
 was feeling like a new man. Doctor Jordan had 
 been there ahead of me and set the arm. Redny 
 was pretty nigh well. Jordan had the right cure 
 for green apple appendicitis and it worked tip 
 top. 
 
 I drove up to the depot in the Old Home 
 wagon and met Van Brunt. He was in fine spirits. 
 The Tea Lead deal had been closed up the Street 
 pirates having decided not to pass the dividend 
 and the Heavenly Twins had made money by the 
 keg, I judged. 
 
 "How d New York look to you?" I asked 
 him. 
 
 "Hush!" says he. "Don t speak lightly of 
 sacred things." 
 
 When he heard about what had happened while 
 he was away he was the most surprised man in the 
 county. 
 
 " Skipper," he says, grabbing my hand, " you re 
 a star of the first magnitude. You and Eureka 
 are the redeeming features of this Natural experi 
 ment. You pay the freight and a large rebate 
 over. And Martin! bully old boy! I want to 
 see him." 
 
 Him and his chum was shut up together for a
 
 32 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 good half hour. When Van come down to the 
 porch he beckoned to me. 
 
 " Sol," he says, " there s another question I 
 want to ask you. Of course I know that Martin 
 liked the boy and all that, but that reason won t 
 quite do. What s the real one? " 
 
 Twas a ticklish place for me. But I couldn t 
 see but one way clear; that is, but one way which 
 was best in the long run for all hands. So I 
 spunked up and answered. 
 
 " Mr. Van Brunt," says I, " I hate to say it, 
 but of course you know that your partner and Miss 
 Agnes set considerable store by each other at one 
 time. And you can t break off feelings like that 
 same as you d bust a piece of string. I " 
 
 He nodded. " All right," he says. " I m not 
 altogether a blockhead. That ll do. I ve been 
 sure of it, myself, for some time." 
 
 " I understand," I went on, " that the reason 
 she give him the mitten was on account of his being 
 too grasping after money. If she d seen him, like 
 I have, just throwing it away as if twas shavings, 
 I guess likely she " 
 
 He interrupted and looked at me queer. 
 
 "How did you know that was the reason?" 
 he asks.
 
 SIMPLE VERSUS DUPLEX 329 
 
 I d put my foot in it away over the shoe laces. 
 
 " Well," I stammered, " you see I that is, 
 twas told to me and course I can t swear " 
 
 " Who told it? Oh, never mind. I see. Dear 
 James! Well done, good and faithful servant. 
 You ve been faithful over a few things, and gen 
 eral superintendent and advertiser of all the rest. 
 Sol, I learned something when I was in New York. 
 Considering all you ve done and know, I think 
 you re entitled to know more. 
 
 " When I was in God s settlement yesterday," 
 he went on, referring to his home town, I judged, 
 though I d never heard afore that it belonged in 
 that neighborhood, " I met an old friend of Hart 
 ley s governor of his father, I mean. This 
 friend had been abroad for some time and had 
 just returned. He spoke of Martin, and what a 
 fine fellow he was; to all of which I set my hand 
 and seal, of course. Then he said that the w r ay 
 in which young Hartley had paid his father s debts 
 and saved the family honor and credit was one of 
 the biggest things he knew of. I expressed sur 
 prise. Then he was surprised to learn that I 
 didn t know, being Martin s closest friend, and 
 told me the rest. 
 
 " It seemed that Hartley senior was heavily in-
 
 33 o MR. PRATT 
 
 volved when he died. He had speculated and 
 his affairs were in horrible shape. Martin didn t 
 know of this until the old gentleman, on his death 
 bed, sprung it on him. So then the plucky chap 
 started in to save the name. He arranged with 
 the creditors this man who told me the story 
 was one of them for time, and set to work. He 
 worked nights and days and in his sleep, I guess. 
 He had promised his dad, ,for his mother s sake, 
 not to tell a soul, and he didn t. Every creditor 
 was pledged to secrecy. Even his own mother 
 didn t know it to the day of her death. But he 
 paid dollar for dollar and broke down when it was 
 over. That s why he was willing to join with me 
 in this hunt of ours after the Natural Life. Ag 
 nes cutting him made him reckless, I suppose. 
 And when he was on his feet again financially, he 
 lost interest in the whole game." 
 
 " And now that he s well and husky," I says, 
 " her mistake about his doings with the old man 
 Sparrow set him going at it again. I suppose his 
 digging in the hardest and keeping it quiet on 
 account of his promise, was what made her call him 
 a money grabber. I might have known twas 
 something like that." 
 
 " So might I," he says, " if I wasn t such a care-
 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 331 
 
 less, happy-go-lucky idiot. You see I always 
 thought that the mercenary business was only 
 a cloak for the real reason of their breaking off. 
 She only took up with me because our people 
 wanted her to. I ve been sure of that for a good 
 while. But why Martin didn t come to me when 
 he was in trouble, instead of going it alone like a 
 bull-headed chump, is " 
 
 He stopped and went to thinking. I looked at 
 him and I guess there was a question in my face, 
 for he answered it without my saying a word. 
 
 " Certainly I shall tell her," says he. " When 
 is the next train to Eastwich? " 
 
 He went to the school that afternoon, and 
 stayed at the Bay View House over there that 
 night. Next day, afore I left the Island, Hartley 
 comes rowing over with Scudder. He was feeling 
 chipper as could be and, except for the arm in a 
 sling, you wouldn t have known there was anything 
 the matter with him. 
 
 About eleven or so that forenoon Eureka comes 
 running out to the hen-yard where I was. Her 
 face was on the broad grin. 
 
 " They re coming," says she. " The whole of 
 em!" 
 
 "Who?"
 
 332 MR. PRATT 
 
 "Why Miss Agnes and Miss Talford. Nate 
 Scudder is rowing em and Mr. Van Brunt is 
 along, too." 
 
 And so they was. I could see the dory half 
 way across already. 
 
 "Hooray!" I sings out. "Let s tell Hart 
 ley." 
 
 " Don t you dare tell him," she orders. " He s 
 in the house. You let him stay there. It s your 
 job to meet that boat and keep the rest of em 
 out of the way." 
 
 I was at the beach when the dory landed. Miss 
 Talford and Van got out first. Then comes Ag 
 nes Page. She stepped up to me and held out her 
 hand. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Pratt," she says. " I m 
 very glad to see you." 
 
 " Same here, ma am, I m sure," says I. 
 " How s Redny?" 
 
 "Who? Dennis? Oh, he s almost well. We 
 left James in charge of the children. Are you all 
 well here? Is " 
 
 Yes, ma am. He s doing first-rate. You ll 
 find him in the dining-room." 
 
 She reddened up like a climbing rose-bush in 
 June, but she left me and headed for the house.
 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 333 
 
 The minute she stepped her foot on the porch, 
 that wise critter Eureka dodged out of the kitchen 
 door. She knew her business, that girl did, and 
 whether it had come to her by instinct or from 
 Home Comforter reading don t make an atom 
 of difference. 
 
 About twenty minutes after that I happened to 
 have an errand in the kitchen. I made a dickens 
 of a racket on purpose when I went in, but twas 
 good work wasted. Hartley and the Page girl 
 was standing by the parlor window looking out, 
 and didn t appear to hear a sound. They d left 
 the doors open and I could see em. Martin 
 hadn t only one whole arm, but he seemed to know 
 what to do with that. 
 
 Van Brunt come into the kitchen after a drink 
 of water. He see the tableau in the parlor. 
 When we was outside again he spoke. 
 
 " Well," he says, with a kind of sigh, " that 
 settles it. And yet, by George! I m glad. Yes, 
 sir; it s as it should be and I m thoroughly glad 
 of it." 
 
 I couldn t think of nothing to comfort him, poor 
 feller. But I squeezed his hand hard. I guess he 
 knew what I thought of him and his self-sacri 
 fice.
 
 334 MR. PRATT* 
 
 And yet, a couple of hours later, when 1 
 told Eureka, she didn t seem to think so much 
 of it. 
 
 "Humph!" says she. " Self-sacrificing s all 
 .right, but you look here." 
 
 She took me by the arm and led me to the wood 
 shed window. Down by the cove on the beach 
 was Van Brunt and Margaret Talford, walking up 
 and down together. They was both laughing and 
 acting perfectly contented. 
 
 Eureka gave me a nudge and a wink. " I told 
 you I had my ideas about him" says she. 
 
 The Fresh Air girls went back to Eastwich that 
 afternoon. When they had gone Van turns to 
 me. 
 
 " And now, skipper," says he, slapping his 
 hands together brisk; " now then for packing up, 
 and back, back to little old New York. Oh, 
 Uncle John! isn t it nice on Broadway? or words 
 to that effect. " 
 
 They was all going together; the Heavenly- 
 Twins and Lord James and the Fresh Air girls 
 and all their tribe. Redny s sickness and the 
 worry that it brought had made Agnes and Miss 
 Talford anxious for the city, where doctors was 
 plenty and green apples scarce. And the Twins
 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 335 
 
 was pining for what Van called " the intoxicating 
 degeneracy of an effete " (whatever that is) 
 " civilization." 
 
 We packed up. That is to say, me and Eureka 
 packed up, while the Heavenlies superintended and 
 enjoyed themselves. Scudder s face, when he 
 heard that his private gold mines was going to 
 leave, was a sight to see. But, after a couple of 
 lengthy interviews with the Twins, he seemed to 
 feel better. 
 
 " I shall miss em terrible," he says to me. " But 
 this world s a valley of dry bones, anyhow, ain t it, 
 Pratt?" 
 
 " Valley of dry bones," and " fleeing to the ark 
 of safety " was his pet words when he testified in 
 prayer-meeting. 
 
 " I guess so," I says. " Still I wouldn t kick if 
 I had your knack of getting double price per pound 
 for the bones. You ve managed to fertilize with 
 em pretty well, Nate." 
 
 He fetched a sigh. " They re such nice oblig 
 ing fellers," he says. " And such good hands at 
 business. Never no beating down nor jockeying 
 for a trade. I always feel perfectly safe in deal 
 ing with em." 
 
 I cal lated that statement wa n t exaggerated.
 
 33 6 MR. PRATT 
 
 Most likely a shark feels the same way about 
 dealing with a school of porgies. 
 
 Nate had agreed to take back the hens and the 
 pig, as an accommodation. He was to pay three 
 dollars for the hog and the fowls was hove into the 
 scales for good measure. There was a lease of 
 the Island, too, that had to be canceled. Them 
 simple-minded Tea Leaders had, in the first fever 
 of Naturalness, signed a lease on Horsefoot Bar 
 to run till November. Now that their pulse was 
 normal again they wanted to break that lease, and 
 the job was considerable more painful and expen 
 sive than breaking Hartley s arm had been. But 
 Nate let em break, though I thought he d break 
 them afore he got through. 
 
 Him and Eureka and me had a good many talks 
 about the Twins when we was alone together. 
 The last of these talks we had on the afternoon of 
 the day afore the grand final emigration. Lord 
 James was over on an errand and he was in the 
 kitchen with us. Eureka begun the talk. 
 
 " I ain t quite made up my mind whether they re 
 really crazy or not," she says, referring to the 
 Heavenlies. " They don t act much more loony 
 than some of the earls and such in books. And 
 yet they must be some out of their minds or they
 
 SIMPLE VERSUS DUPLEX 337 
 
 wouldn t do such fool things. Once they was all 
 for living poor and Natural. Now they re all the 
 other way. Switching round like that is a sure 
 sign of weakness in the top stories." 
 
 " Most city folks act to me some crazy," says I. 
 " And perhaps these two, being the toniest kind, 
 is crazier than others. Maybe the higher up you 
 go the loonier they get. I read in a paper once 
 about how some rich big bug give a swell dinner to 
 a pet monkey. The Twins are Solomons along 
 side of him. And, anyhow, they re mighty nice 
 young fellers. Money may have got to their 
 heads, but their hearts is in the right place." 
 
 " Taint a question of hearts," says Scudder. 
 " Way I figger it out the Almighty sends em down 
 here on purpose. We poor folks alongshore don t 
 have much chance to earn an honest living, and so 
 the Lord takes pity on us and makes men like these 
 two get cracked and hanker to live in the sand and 
 spend money. You put your trust in the Higher 
 Power. He evens matters up in the long run." 
 
 His Lordship broke in then; and my! but he 
 was top-lofty and scornful. 
 
 " Crazy yourselves! " he sniffs. " My eavens, 
 I ve done some traveling in my time, with Lord 
 Enry and the rest ; I ve been all over. And never
 
 33 8 MR. PRATT 
 
 in my life ave I seen such a Gawd-forsaken coun 
 try as this, or such a blooming lot of ignorant 
 ayseeds as is ere. W y, Y ou don t know ow to 
 live at all and yet you re proud of it. You aven t 
 no conveniences, and you eat with your knives, and 
 you ve no manners. Lord elp you, I say ! You re 
 all crazy together, and don t know ow to act in 
 good society. Mr. Van Brunt and Mr. Artley is 
 gentlemen, and what you call their craziness is noth 
 ing but the eccentricities of gentlemen. And if you 
 think they re eccentric I W y compared to some 
 I ve worked for, like Lord Enry " 
 
 Twas high time to stop him. " But they re so 
 crazy loose with their money," says I. 
 
 He was hotter than ever. " Do you suppose," 
 he asks sarcastic, " that a real gentleman as time 
 to aggie over a few dirty pennies? " 
 
 Nobody said any more for a spell. Then Eu 
 reka says, like she d been thinking: 
 
 " I cal late," says she, " that it s all in the 
 way you ve been raised. Maybe I d act just as 
 queer and looney if I went to the city; that is, if 
 I hadn t posted myself up by my reading. I ll 
 lend you the Comforters with " False but Fair" in 
 em, Mr. Pratt, some time." 
 
 Next day we all met at the Eastwich depot.
 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 339 
 
 Agnes Page and Miss Talford and the Fresh Air 
 tribe, including Redny, who was chipper and gay 
 because he was going back to New York. The 
 Heavenly Twins was there. So was me and Eu 
 reka to see em off. 
 
 We spent fifteen minutes or more in saying good 
 byes. I felt real bad and so did everybody else, 
 I guess. Hartley and Agnes couldn t say enough 
 to me about my sailing through that gale for em 
 in the Dora Bassett. The poor old sloop was still 
 tied up to the Wapatomac wharf. Baker had 
 been looking out for her and I was going over that 
 afternoon myself. 
 
 Agnes said she and Hartley would surely come 
 back next summer. I must write and so would 
 they. Eureka s brothers and sisters was to have 
 money to help along their schooling, and Washy 
 Sparrow would keep wheeling rocks, or, if he 
 didn t, Squire Poundberry would attend to him. 
 
 " Pa wanted a holiday on account of your leav 
 ing, Miss Page," says Eureka. " But I told him 
 twould be a bigger celebration if he kept on to 
 work." 
 
 Scudder wa n t at the depot. He was too busy 
 moving the duds off of Ozone Island to get away. 
 But he d sent a package by Eureka. Twas a
 
 34 o MR. PRATT 
 
 present for Van Brunt; something to remember 
 him by, he said. 
 
 Van opened it. Then there was a general " haw 
 haw." Twas that worked worsted motto, 
 " What is Home Without a Mother? " 
 
 " James," says Van, bubbling over with laugh 
 ter, " this is your property. I couldn t deprive 
 you of it." 
 
 His Lordship was disgusted. " I wouldn t ave 
 the blooming thing in the ouse ; with all respect to 
 you, sir," says he. 
 
 Agnes said she d take it. It would be a splen 
 did souvenir. 
 
 " Scudder s a kind-hearted chap," says Van. 
 " He means well." 
 
 That was too much for me. I took a piece of 
 paper out of my pocket. Twas a little bill I d 
 made out the night afore. 
 
 " Here," I says; " just run your eye over this, 
 will you? " 
 
 Van took it. It read so : 
 
 "The Natural Life, Dr., to Nathan Scudder, Nature s 
 Nobleman, Rough Diamond, and the like of that. 
 
 15 loads of dirt, at $3.00 a load. That s. . . .$45.00 
 1 1 hens and i rooster at 30 cents a Ib. That s 12.60 and 
 
 the hens and rooster. 
 I hog sold for $6.00 when he was little
 
 SIMPLE FERSUS DUPLEX 341 
 
 and thin, and bought back for $3.00 
 
 when he was big and fat. That s. .... $3.00 and 
 
 the hog. 
 1 60 quarts of skim-milk (he kept the cream 
 
 and made it into butter to sell us) at 
 
 9 cts. a quart. That s 14.40 
 
 About 50 Ibs. of butter (made out of our 
 
 cream) at 25 cts. alb. That s 12.50 
 
 Vegetables and truck (mostly from the store). 
 
 That s somewheres nigh 10.00 
 
 Bedding and furniture and kitchen stuff. 
 
 That s about 75- o an d 
 
 all the stuff back again. 
 Lease of Ozone Horsefoot Island for 3 months 
 
 at $50 a month (a cent more than $4.00 
 
 a year is like robbing your grandmarm). 
 
 That s. I 50.00 
 
 For cancelling the lease which was to run 
 
 till November. That s 40.00 
 
 About 60 days, altogether, of secret keeping 
 
 at $8.00 a day ($3.00 from E. V. 
 
 B. and $5.00 from M. H.). Call it, say 480.00 
 
 Total (it ain t nigh all) $842.50 
 
 And twelve hens and one hog and all the 
 furniture and land knows what else be 
 sides." 
 
 " And that don t count in half of the Ozone 
 cost," I says; " let alone what you fellers paid for 
 hiring his house and Huldy Ann and all." 
 
 Hartley looked over his chum s shoulder.
 
 342 MR. PRATT 
 
 " Humph ! " says he. " I wouldn t wonder if I 
 could add an item to that. What did you pay 
 for those shore-birds you got when you went gun 
 ning with Scudder, Van? " 
 
 Van blushed up some, but he answered prompt. 
 
 " Well," he says, " to tell the truth, Scudder 
 sold em to me for five dollars." 
 
 "Yes?" says Martin, laughing. "I thought 
 so. I paid him six for mine." 
 
 " There s no use talking" I put in; " there may 
 be some good things about living the Natural Life, 
 but " 
 
 " But," interrupted Martin, " the financial 
 profits appear to lie in Scudder s plan; that is, to 
 have the good things live it for you." 
 
 The train whistled up the road. Van leaned 
 over and tapped me on the shirt front. 
 
 " Skipper," says he, " I won t prophecy concern 
 ing next summer. Sufficient unto the day, etcetera. 
 And I won t answer for Martin. But for me, and 
 for this winter, if anybody asks, you tell em I ve 
 gone back to New York to live the most compound, 
 double duplex life to be found from Harlem t5l 
 the Battery. That s what ! " says Edward Va> 
 Brunt. 
 
 THE END
 
 A 000128074 2
 
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