LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Dame Judith Anderson
 
 UCSB LIBRARY 
 X-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS
 
 II
 
 CAPE COD 
 
 Scene from the Play.
 
 CAPE COD 
 FOLKS 
 
 BY 
 
 SARAH P. McLEAN GREENE 
 
 (SALLY PRATT McLEAN) 
 
 IVitb Illustrations from tht Pity 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copy i Ighted, i88i 
 BT A. WILLIAMS & Oo. 
 
 Copyrighted, 1904, 
 BT DK WOLFS, Fisiot * Oo.
 
 TO
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 1. ON A MISSION 7 
 
 II. I BLOW THE HORN ... ... 30 
 
 III THE BEAUX OF WALLENCAMP PERFORM 
 
 A GRAVE DUTY 48 
 
 IV THE TURKEY MOGUL ARRIVES ... 70 
 V GRANDMA KEELER GETS GRANDPA READY 
 
 FOR SUNDAY SCHOOL 93 
 
 VI. BECKY AND THE CRADLEBOW . . . . 116 
 
 VII. LUTE CRADLEBOW KISSES THE TEACHER. 137 
 
 Vni. FESTIVITIES AT THE ARK 162 
 
 IX. LOVELL BARLOW " POPS THE QUESTION." 184 
 
 X. A LETTER FROM THE FISHERMAN . . 200 
 
 XI. A WALLENCAMP FUNERAL 211 
 
 XII. BECKY'S CONFESSION 224 
 
 XIII. A MILD WINTER ON THE CAPE . . . 237 
 
 XIV. RESCUED BY THE CRADLEBOW .... 247 
 XV. DAVID ROLLIN IN THE SCHOOL-ROOM . 259 
 
 XVI. GEORGE OLVER'S LOVE FOR BECKY . . 269 
 
 XVI L TEACHER HAS THE FEVER. DEATH OF 
 
 LITTLE BESSIE 178
 
 vfii CONTENTS. 
 
 XVIII. LUTE CRADLEBOW GIVES THE TEACHER 
 
 A NEW CHAIR 290 
 
 XIX. DEATH OF THE CRADLEBOW .... 298 
 
 XX. GEORGE OLVER'S ORATION 317 
 
 XXI. FAREWELL TO WALLENCAMP .... 324
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 ON A MISSION. 
 
 "Lo, on a narrer neck o' land, 
 'Twixt two unbounded seas, I stand ! " 
 
 UNT SIBYLLA was not sporting, now, in the 
 airy realms of metaphor. Aunt Sibylla stood 
 upon Cape Cod, and her voice rang out with 
 that peculiar sweep and power which the presence of a 
 dread reality alone can give. Something of the preca- 
 riousness of her situation, too, was expressed in the 
 wild, alarming, though graceful, gesture of her arms. 
 It was before the long-projected canal separating
 
 8 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Cape Cod from the mainland had been put under 
 active process of preparation. 
 
 It was at an evening meeting in the Wallencamp 
 school-house. A row of dingy, smoking lanterns had 
 been set against the wall and afforded the only light 
 cast upon the scene. Aunt Sibylla Cradlebow, the 
 speaker, was tall and dark-eyed, with an almost super- 
 human litheness of body, and a weird, beautiful face. 
 
 " And, oh, my dear brothers and sisters and oncon- 
 varted friends ! " she continued ; " how little do we 
 realize the reskiness of our situwation here on the Cape 1 
 Here we stand with them ar identical unbounded seas 
 a rollin' up on ary side of us ! the world a pintin' at us 
 as them that should be always ready, with our lamps 
 trimmed and burnin' ! and, yit, oh my dear brothers 
 and sisters and onconvarted friends ! as fur as I have 
 been inland and I have been a consid'able ways 
 inland, as you all know, whar it would seem no more 
 than nateral that folks should settle down kind o' safe 
 and easy on a dry land univarse I say, as fur as I 
 have been inland, I never see sech keeryins on and 
 ca^al works, sech keerlessness for the present and 
 onconsarn for the futur', as I have amongst the be- 
 nighted critturs who stand before me this evenin', a 
 straddlin' this poor, old, Godforsaken Pot Hook ! " 
 
 Clearer and louder grew Aunt Sibylla's tones ; her 
 eyes lightened with terrible meaning ; her words flowed 
 with an unction that was unmistakable ; and, at length, 
 "Oh, run for the Ark, ye poor, lost sinners," she 
 exclaimed. "Oh, run for the Ark, my onconvarted 
 friends ! Don't ye hear the waves a comin' in ? They're 
 a rollin' swift and sure ! They're a rollin' in sure as 
 death 1 Run for the Ark ! Run for the Ark I "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 9 
 
 Now, there was in Wallencamp a literal Ark, other- 
 wise this exhortation would have lacked its most 
 convincing force and significance. But Aunt Sibylla 
 paused. Among the usually restless audience, there 
 was a moment of almost breathless suspense. Not 
 half a mile away, behind a strip of cedar woods, we 
 could plainly hear the surf rolling in from the bay, 
 breaking hard against the shore with its awful, monoto- 
 nous moan, moan, moan. 
 
 My heart was already faint with home-sickness. The 
 effect of that waiting moment was as sombre as anything 
 I had ever experienced. Much to my distaste, I found 
 myself sympathizing with the vague terror and unrest 
 around me. I can hear it still, the voice that then rose, 
 singing, through the sullen gloom of the school-room, a 
 strangely sweet and rapturous voice Madeline's. I 
 learned to know it well afterwards. I listened with rapt 
 surprise to the pathos with which it thrilled the simple 
 words of the song : 
 
 " Shall we meet beyond the River, 
 Wherethe surges cease to roll, 
 Where, in all the bright forever, 
 Sorrow ne'er shall press the soul ? " 
 
 A keenly responsive chord had been touched in the 
 simple, agitated breasts of the Wallencampers, and they 
 joined in the chorus those rough people not with 
 their usual reckless exuberance of tone, but plaintively, 
 tremblingly even, as though, whatever the words, they 
 would make of them a prayer in which to hide some 
 secret doubt or longing of their souls. 
 
 "Shall we meet, shall we meet, 
 Shall we meet beyond the River?*
 
 10 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 The strain was repeated with a most pathetic quaver 
 in the rendering, and then big Captain Sartell broke 
 down, with a helpless gulp in his voice, and I, who 
 believed myself of too superior and refined a nature to 
 be moved by such tawdry sentiment, was further dis- 
 mayed to feel the tears gathering fast in my own eyes. 
 
 After the meeting, on the school-house steps, the big 
 Captain, as if to atone for any unmanly exhibition of 
 feeling into which he might have been betrayed inside, 
 took little Bachelor Lot up by the shoulders, and gently 
 and playfully held him suspended in mid-air, while he 
 put to him the following riddle : 
 
 " I'll wager a quarter, on a good, squar' guess, Bach- 
 elder. Why is why air Aunt Sibby's remarks like 
 this 'ere peninshaler, eh, Bachelder ? " 
 
 " Because ahem ! because they're always a run- 
 nin' to a p'int, eh ? " inquired the keen little bachelor. 
 
 " No, by thunder ! " exclaimed the discomfited Captain, 
 setting the magician down promptly. "As near as I 
 calk'late," he continued, endeavoring to resume his 
 former air of cool and reckless raillery ; " as near as I 
 calk'late, Bachelder, yes, sir, as near as I calk'late, 
 it's it's by thunder ! it's because they're both 
 liable to squalls in fa'r weather ! " 
 
 Amazed, and almost frightened at the unexpected 
 brilliancy of his evil success, the Captain yet kept a rue- 
 ful and furtive eye on the little bachelor. 
 
 Bachelor Lot coughed slightly and smiled. "Very 
 true," he drawled, cheerfully, in his small, thin voice ; 
 " I'm ahem ! I'm not a married man myself, you 
 know, Captain. However/' he added; "you should 
 have given me another try. I had the correct answer 
 on my tongue's end."
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. II 
 
 During this brief exchange between the stars of thfl 
 Wallencamp debate ground, murmurs of appreciative 
 applause arose from the group of bystanders, and " Pretty 
 tight pinch for you, Captain ! " and " Three cheers for 
 Bachelder I ye can't git ahead of Bachelder ! " sprang 
 delightedly from lip to lip. 
 
 Aunt Sibylla had scented from within this buoyant 
 resumption of the Wallencamp mirth, and now appeared 
 on the scene, bearing a burning lantern in her hand. 
 She first turned the glare of its full orb on the late sin- 
 convicted Captain, who stood revealed with a guilty grin 
 frozen helplessly on his alarmed features, ai*d next 
 directed the beams of disclosing justice towards the form 
 of the little bachelor, who, with too pronounced meekness, 
 was engaged in readjusting the collar of his coat. 
 
 " At it ag'in ! " Aunt Sibylla exclaimed, with slow and 
 cutting emphasis. " At it ag'in 1 I do believe you're all 
 possessed of the devil ! " 
 
 Then, with one sweep of the lantern, she took a com- 
 prehensive survey of the shivering group, and passed on 
 without another word, while in the breast of every guilty 
 Wallencamper then present there rested a deep sense of 
 merited condemnation. 
 
 Aunt Sibylla was soon followed by the other lantern- 
 bearers, who dispersed homeward, along the four roads 
 diverging from the school-house, and, the night being 
 starless, the children of the darkness followed meekly in 
 their wake. 
 
 The longest route lay before those who took the River 
 Road leading to the Indian Encampment. Bachelor Lot 
 was the hindmost in this receding column. Bachelor 
 'lot, though too withered and brown of visage to afford
 
 12 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 immediate enlightenment as to his species, was held to be 
 of unquestionable white descent. Yet he kept house, 
 alone, at the Indian Encampment. 
 
 Then there was the Stony Hill Road, up which a few 
 pilgrims toiled ; and the Cross Lot Road to the beach 
 thither went the Barlows. Last of all, there was the 
 Lane, and it was somewhat in the rear of the lane pro- 
 cession that I musingly wended my way, led by the beams 
 of Grandma Keeler's slowly swaying lantern. 
 
 I was the Wallencamp school-teacher. I had come to 
 " this rock-bound coast," imagining myself impelled by 
 much the same necessity as that which fired the bosoms 
 of the earlier pilgrims. Not that I had been restricted 
 in respect to religious privileges, but I sought for a true 
 independence of life and aim ; and furthermore, it should 
 be said, I had come to Wallencamp on a mission. " On 
 a mission I " how the thought had tickled my fancy and 
 roused my warmest enthusiasm but a few short days 
 before ! Indeed, I had not been yet a week in Wallen- 
 camp, and now, as I walked up the lane in a mood quite 
 the reverse of enthusiastic, I was painfully trying to 
 gather from my small and scattered sources of informs 
 tion what the exact meaning of the phrase might be. 
 
 I had entered on the performance of my errand to 
 Wallencamp under circumstances not usual, perhaps, 
 among propagandists ; nevertheless, I had been singularly 
 free from misgivings. 
 
 A girl of nineteen years, I had a home endowed with 
 every luxury ; a circle of family acquantance, which, I ad- 
 mitted, did me great credit ; congenial companions ; while 
 as for my education, I was pleased to call it completed 
 My career at boarding-schools had been of a delight-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 13 
 
 fully varied and elective nature, for I had not deigned 
 to toil with squalid studiousness, or even to sail 
 with politic and inglorious ease through the pre- 
 scribed course of study at any institution. Any mis- 
 adventures necessarily following from this course my 
 friends had gilded over with the flattering insinuation 
 that I was " too vivacious " for this sort of discipline, or 
 " too fragile " for that, though I am bound to say that, 
 in such cases, my " vivacity " had generally sealed my 
 fate before the delicacy of my constitution became too 
 alarmingly apparent. 
 
 I had, to be sure, a few commendable aspirations, but 
 I had started out fresh so many times with them only 
 to see them meet the same end ! 
 
 Though not by nature of a self-depreciatory turn of 
 mind, I had occasional flashes of inspiration, to the 
 effect that, in spite of the soft flattery of friends, I really 
 was amounting to very little after all. It was in a 
 mood induced by one of these supernatural gleams that 
 I stood on one occasion, leaning a pair of very plump 
 arms on the graveyard wall, looking wistfully over into 
 the place of tombs, and thinking how nice it would be to 
 have done forever with the fret and turmoil of life I 
 And it was at such a time, too, that I received from a 
 school friend, Mary Waite, the letter which was the mov- 
 ing cause of my mission to Wallencamp. 
 
 Mary Waite, by the way, was one of those " prosy, 
 ridiculous girls" so I had been compelled to classify 
 her, although I was secretly troubled by a sincere admira- 
 tion of her virtues, who had made it an absorbing 
 pursuit of her school-days to probe her text-books for 
 useful information, and was also accustomed to defer to
 
 34 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 her teachers as high authority on matters of daily di 
 cipline. She was not in " our set." She was poor, and 
 studious, and obedient, yet a friendship had sprung up 
 between her and me, and I was moved to forgive her 
 the, in many respects, grovelling tendencies of her 
 nature. I even ascended occasionally to her room on 
 the fourth floor to shock her with my sentiments, when 
 there was nothing livelier going on. 
 
 She wrote : 
 
 " MY DEAR S : Are you still perfectly happy, as 
 
 you used to try to have me think you were always the 
 old restlessness, the better longings unsatisfied, do they 
 aever come up again ? [That was Mary's insidious way 
 of stating a difficulty.] Don't you believe you would 
 be happier to do something in real earnest ? Something 
 for people outside, I mean. [I flushed a little at that. 
 An insinuation of that sort can't be put too delicately.] 
 I have tried to imagine how the proposal I am going to 
 make will strike you but never mind. I am teaching, 
 you know, in Kedarville. I leave here, at the close of 
 the term, for another field of labor, and now I want you 
 to apply for the Kedarville school. Yes, it is a remote, 
 poverty-stricken place. It contains no society, no 
 church, no library, not even a little country store I It 
 would seem to you, I dare say, like going back to the 
 half-barbaious conditions of life. The people are 
 simple and kind-hearted; but they need training oh, 
 how much ! physically, mentally, and morally. I can 
 assure you, here is scope for the most daring missionary 
 enterprise, and you. I believe that you could do it if 
 you would. Consider the matter seriously; consult 
 with your friends about it, and if you do decide to try
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. f 
 
 the experiment, write as legibly as you possibly can to 
 the Superintendent of Schools, Farmouth, Mass., stating 
 your qualifications, etc." 
 
 The idea struck me with such strange and immediate 
 favor that I quite forbore to consult with my friends in 
 regard to it. I resolved to go on the instant, and wrote 
 my friend Mary to that effect, congratulating her, with 
 an undercurrent of mischievous intention, on having 
 been the happy means of setting my powers drifting in 
 the right direction at last ; and reproached her gently 
 with having seemed to imply, once, in her letter, som 
 occult reason why I had not been regarded, heretofore 
 as specially designed to work in the cause of missions^ 
 whereas I had always felt myself drifting inevitably 
 towards that end. 
 
 I wrote to the Superintendent of the Farmouth schools 
 But here I had an earnest purpose to serve, and a reaj 
 desire to succeed, and here met with a difficulty. \ 
 had not the art of presenting my earnest purposes in the 
 most assuring and credible manner. They would 
 wear, in spite of me, an uneasy air of novelty ; yet I 
 aimed nobly. I dilated largely on some of the evils 
 existing in the present system of education, and hinted 
 at reforms not yet meditated by the world at large ; but 
 skilfully forgot to mention my own qualifications. 
 
 On reading the letter over, I was astonished at the 
 flattering nature of the result, and, with the buoyant 
 pride of one who believes he has suddenly discovered a 
 new resource in himself, I sent a copy of my application 
 to Mary Waite. She answered in the language ol 
 sorrowful reproach : 
 
 " Oh, S., how could you ? "
 
 16 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 I was forced to conclude that, as usual, I had some- 
 how made a misstep, and sought to conceal my morti- 
 fication as best I might, by persuading myself and my 
 friend that I had only regarded the matter as a joke all 
 through. Nevertheless, I was bitterly disappointed. 
 
 What was my surprise, then, a few days afterwards, 
 to receive this communication from the Superintendent 
 of Schools : 
 
 " You are accepted to fill the position of teacher in 
 the Kedarville school." Then followed terse directions 
 as to the best way of reaching Kedarville, and, finally : 
 " Mrs. Philander Keeler will board you for two dollars 
 and fifty cents per week." 
 
 As I read this last clause everything that had made 
 a sudden tumult in my mind before was lulled into a 
 mysterious calm. 
 
 It was not the low value set upon the means of sub- 
 sistence in Kedarville. Mercenary motives were, with 
 me, as yet out of the question. It was not the oppress- 
 ive charm of Mrs. Philander Keeler's name that affected 
 me so strangely. It was the expressive combination of 
 the whole, at once so clear cut and unique. I murmured 
 it softly to myself on my way home from the Post- 
 office. 
 
 " Han," said I, quite gravely, to my elder sister on 
 entering the house ; " Mrs. Philander Keeler will board 
 me for two dollars and fifty cents per week : " and handed 
 her the letter in pensive, though triumphant, confirmation 
 of my words. 
 
 " When did you do this ? " she gasped, and, before I 
 could answer, "how are you going to get out of it?" 
 ghe faintly demanded.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. \j 
 
 rt Simply by getting into it, my dear," I answered, 
 that unyielding sweetness of demeanor for which 
 I fancied I had ever been distinguished in the family 
 circle. 
 
 I began to make my preparations for departure with- 
 out delay. 
 
 Tender remonstrances, studied expostulations, were 
 alike of no avail, and they helped me to pack, finally 
 those dear good people at home putting as brave a 
 face as they could upon it, and hoping for the best. My 
 father assured my mother, though with trembling lip and 
 tearful eye, that " God would temper the wind to the 
 shorn lamb." I smiled at the part I was meant to play 
 in this cheerful allegory, though it seemed to me rather 
 inappropriate, as I had a new sealskin cloak that very 
 winter. 
 
 At the last I gathered from the new and sprightlier 
 form which the family submissiveness assumed, as well 
 as from certain inadvertent disclosures of Bridget's, that 
 I was confidently expected home again " in the course 
 of a week or two." And I thereupon doubly confirmed 
 myself in the resolve to see this thing through or die i* 
 the attempt. 
 
 I cannot define the motives which actuated me at this 
 time. They do not appear to have flowed in a clear and 
 pellucid stream. I discover a thirst for the surprising 
 and experimental, for situations, dilemmas, and emer- 
 gencies, sustained by the most sublime recklessness as 
 to consequences. Then I see a dread of sinking into 
 humdrum the impulse never to be at rest ; deeper 
 than all this, I find a secret dissatisfaction with myself, a 
 vague longing to use the best that is in me to some true
 
 Ig CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 purpose ; a desire to leave the tangled skein, and * begin 
 all over again." 
 
 It was early in January when I set out on my mission 
 to the distant shores of Cape Cod. It was also, I 
 remember, very early in the morning, and John Cable 
 occupied a seat in the car. I had reason to know that 
 John shared in the family disapproval of my sublime 
 conduct. He sat, looking very glum behind his paper, 
 and appeared not to notice me when I came in. Hav- 
 ing finished reading his paper, he gnawed his moustache 
 and gazed, still with glaring unconsciousness of my pres- 
 ence, out of the window. But as we neared Hartford, 
 where I was to take the train for Boston, he came over 
 to where I sat. 
 
 " I hope you'll enjoy yourself at Sandy Creek this 
 winter," he said. 
 
 Now, I knew that John had designed this as sarcasm 
 the most scathing, but he was himself conscious of failure, 
 and the thought filled him with deeper gloom. He sought 
 to reveal his baffled intentions in a scowl, which lent to 
 his manly and intelligent features the darkness of spirit- 
 ual night. And I replied, that " the recollection of his 
 face, as it then appeared to me, would be in itself an 
 inspiration through all the days to come." 
 
 There was silence for a space, and then John contin- 
 ued: 
 
 " Have you found it on the map, yet ? " 
 
 " What, please ? " 
 
 " Kedarville ! " with bitter emphasis. 
 
 " Oh ! certainly not." 
 
 u It may be a little island out there somewhere, you 
 know," delivered with the effect of a masterpiece.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 19 
 
 u Yes ; or a lighthouse, possibly." 
 
 I saw that John wished he had thought of that himself. 
 He became dejected again. Then, presently, he threw 
 off the cloak of bitterness which sat so ill on him, and, 
 resuming his usual kindliness and benignity of manner, 
 succeeded in making himself unconsciously tantalizing. 
 
 " If you do find it," he said ; " and if you if you 
 conclude to stay for any length of time, I think I will go 
 down some time this winter and hunt you up." 
 
 " If you do, John Cable," I answered, with unaccount- 
 able warmth ; " I'll never forgive you as long as I live 
 never." 
 
 At Hartford, John took the train for Boston, too. We 
 were very old friends. Latterly, we had read Shakespeare 
 together at the Newtown Literary Club. We concluded 
 not to quarrel for the rest of the way. I had an influx 
 of gay spirits, and John was almost without exception 
 " nice." 
 
 There were several hours to wait in Boston before the 
 train on the Old Colony road would go out. We had 
 dinner (I little realized how long it would be before I 
 should eat again), and John tamely suggested driving 
 about to look at some of the places of interest. I assured 
 him that there was nothing so dispiriting as looking at 
 places of interest, and he answered, cheerfully, after some 
 moments of thought, that we could " shut our eyes when 
 we went by them, then." 
 
 I had reason to dread a decline of spirits. Mine were 
 rapidly on the wane. By the time we stopped at the Old 
 Colony dtpdt they were low, indeed. And the hardest 
 of all was, that I would not, for my life, let my compan- 
 ion know. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and
 
 JO CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 already quite dark. The atmosphere was heavy and 
 
 chill ; the sky ominous with clouds. I had an unknown 
 journey yet to take in search of an unknown destination. 
 The car into which I got on the Cape-bound train was 
 dismal and weird-seeming enough. 
 
 " I wish, if you must go, you would let me see you to 
 the end of this," said John. 
 
 I answered, laughing, with an unnecessary tinge of 
 defiance in my tone. It would have been so much easier 
 to cry. I thought, " If John would only try to look cross 
 again ! " as he did in the morning anything but that 
 expression of grieved and compassionate disapproval 
 with which he sat, talking so earnestly to me, for the last 
 few moments in that dark car. I thought he was cruel. 
 He was trying to make me think, and I was trying so 
 hard not to think I I felt a childish desire to scream 
 out. Then, when the signal for starting rang, and John 
 took my hand an instant, in parting, looking down at me 
 with his kind, familiar eyes, the impulse swept up strong 
 within me to beg him to take me out of that dreadful 
 car and take me back home, and 1 would be good, oh, 
 so good, and " prosy," yes, and " humdrum," and never 
 ask to go on any more missions to forlorn pieces of land 
 sticking out into the water. 
 
 So there must have been a wild extravagance in the 
 airy recklessness of tone with which I bade John "good- 
 bye." A sense of utter helplessness came over me as he 
 turned and went out. 
 
 I observed, particularly, but two passengers in the car. 
 One was a man, very much bandaged as to his head, who 
 sat gazing into the coal-stove, which occupied the centre 
 Of the car, with weakly meditative, burnt-out eyes The .
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. ai 
 
 other was a girl, occupying the seat directly in front of 
 me. She might have been nine years old, but she had a 
 singularly faded and mature countenance. As the train 
 started, she turned to me with some excitement : 
 
 " There ! " said she, pointing towards the window ; 
 ** your beau's walking off 1 He's walking fast 1 He 
 ain't looking back ! " 
 
 "Thank you," said I, in a low, expressionless tone, 
 not intended as an inducement to further conversation. 
 
 This girl had a parcel of confectionery, the contents of 
 which she occasionally took out, and ranged in a row 
 on the window ledge, selecting therefrom the smallest 
 and least inviting fragment, and having eaten it with the 
 hasty air of one who treats herself under protest to the 
 luscious prerogatives of childhood, put the rest back in 
 the paper-bag, carefully replacing the string every time. 
 She selected and handed to me the very largest specimen 
 in her collection, which I had the gracelessness to refuse, 
 though without show of disgust. Afterwards she asked 
 if she might come and sit in the seat with me. I thought 
 she was very disagreeable. Besides, I was so miserable 
 I wanted to commune apart with my own loneliness. 
 However, I made room for her. 
 
 She proceeded to confide to me all of her past history. 
 She was returning home from a visit to her aunt. Her 
 mother had died a good many years ago, " when Johnnie 
 was a mere baby." She "kept house for father, and 
 took care of Johnnie." She " tried hard not to have 
 father feel his loss. It was very hard," she added, gravely, 
 " for a man to be left alone so." She had bought a 
 little book for Johnnie, but she never had much time to 
 read; besides she wasn't quick to learn. She could
 
 22 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 pick the words out, to be sure, but, somehow, it didn't 
 make good sense, and would I read the book to her ? 
 
 Oh, to take counsel of my own despair ! How dark 
 and wild it was growing outside ! Where was I going ? 
 whom should I meet there ? 
 
 And so I read, at the foot of gorgeously-illuminated 
 pages, how 
 
 * Henny Penny and Ducky Lucky got started for the fair, 
 When Goosie Poosie and Turkey Lurkey went out to view the air, r etc* 
 
 the range of characters swiftly widening as the nar- 
 rative increased in power. To my surprise, the mature 
 child listened to this nonsense with the utmost gravity 
 and interest. No shadow of derision played on her 
 attentive features. When I had finished it was soon 
 finished she said : 
 
 "Oh, that sounded so good; it made such good 
 sense," and sighed, very wistfully. 
 
 " Do you want me to read it again ? " I exclaimed, 
 in despair. 
 
 Would I read it again ? she asked. 
 
 I read it again. 
 
 After that she was silent and thoughtful for some time 
 Then she said, looking gravely into my face : 
 
 " Do you love Jesus ? ',' 
 
 " No, my dear," said I, surprised into much gentleness. 
 
 The faded blue eyes filled with tears. She had no 
 notion of harassing me on the subject, but spoke quietly 
 and at length of her own religious convictions. 
 
 The east wind crept in through the window, and 
 once my little companion shivered. I noticed that she 
 was rather thinly clad. I unstrapped my shawl and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 33 
 
 wrapped it around her. She let her head fall at my side, 
 and went to sleep. Slowly, I was constrained to draw her 
 up closer and put my arm around her as support. In 
 so doing, I received from some source an unaccountable 
 strength and calm of spirit. 
 
 At Braintree, which the child had told me was her 
 home, I woke her up, and she got off. 
 
 I was to stop at West Wallen, the railway station least 
 remote from Kedarville, and expected there to meet 
 Mrs. Philander Keeler, or some member of that mysteri- 
 ous family, to convey me to Wallencamp. 
 
 It seemed as though the train had had time to travel 
 the whole interminable length of the Cape, and plunge 
 off into the ocean beyond, when, in fact, we were just 
 entering upon that peculiar body of land at West 
 Wallen. 
 
 There was no one there to meet me. The little dtpbt 
 was held by a strange night brigade of boys and girls, 
 playing " blind-man's buff." They shouted like canni- 
 bals, and bore down on all opposing objects with 
 resistless force. I did not attempt an entrance. A 
 rough, good-natured looking man stood on the platform 
 outside. 
 
 I put on my glasses (I was sadly and unaffectedly 
 near-sighted), and having further assured myself of his 
 seeming honesty, inquired if there was such a place as 
 Kedarville in the vicinity. 
 
 " Waal, no, miss, thar' ain't," said he, with a noonday 
 smile, which informed me that there was yet something 
 to hope for. " Thar's no Kedarville that I know on. 
 Thar's a Wallencamp some miles up yender. We don't 
 often tackle no Sunday go-to-meeting names on to it,
 
 34 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 but I reckon, maybe, it's the same you're a-lookiri 
 for." 
 
 He had spoken with such startling indefiniteness of the 
 distance that I asked him how far it was to Wallen- 
 camp. 
 
 " Waal, thar' you've got me," said he, beaming on me 
 in a broadly complimentary way, as though I had actually 
 circumvented him in some skilful play at words. " Fact 
 is, thar' ain't never been no survey run down in that 
 direction that I know on. We call it four miles, more 
 or less. That's Cape Cod measure means most any- 
 thin' lineal measure. Talkin' 'bout Cape Cod miles," 
 he continued, with an irresistible air of raillery ; " little 
 Bachelder Lot lives up thar' to Wallencamp, and they 
 don't have no church nor nothin' thar', so Bachelder 
 and some on 'em they come up here, once in a while, 
 ter Sunday-school. Deacon Lancy, he'd rather see the 
 Old Boy comin' into Sunday-school class any time than 
 Bachelder ; for he's quiet, the little bachelder is, but 
 dry as a herrin'. So the Deacon thought he'd stick 
 him on distances. The Deacon is a great stickler on 
 distances. 
 
 " * How fur, Bachelder,' says he, * did Adam and Eve 
 go when they was turned out of the garden of Eden ? ' 
 says he. 
 
 " ' Waal,' says Bachelder, coughing a little, so that's 
 Bachelder's way o' talking 'we have sufficient reason 
 to eenfer, Deacon, that, in ail probabeelity, they went 
 a Ceape Cod mile.'' " 
 
 My informant's delight at this reminiscence was huge. 
 It yielded to a more subdued sense of the ludicrous 
 when I asked him if there was any public conveyance
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 35 
 
 to Wallencamp. He made a polite effort to restrain 
 his mirth, but the muscles of his face twitched via 
 lently. 
 
 " Waal, no, miss," said he ; " we don't run no regular 
 express up to Wallencamp; might be a very healthy 
 oc'pation, but not as lukertive as some, I reckon not 
 as lukertive as pickin' 'tater-bugs : that's what they do, 
 mostly, down thar'. Fact is, miss," he concluded, with 
 considerable gravity ; " we don't vary often go down to 
 Wallencamp unless we're obliged to." 
 
 On my proposing to make it lucrative, he immediately 
 called, in a loud voice, to one of the playful occupants 
 of the dtybt : 
 
 " Hi, thar ! ' 'Rasmus ! 'Rasmus ! Here's a lady 
 wants to be conveyed down to Wallencamp ; you run 
 home and tackle, now ! You be lively, now ! " 
 
 'Rasmus was lively. In a very few moments some- 
 thing of an unusual and ghostly appearance so much 
 only I could discover of what afterwards became a very 
 familiar sort of vehicle was waiting for me alongside 
 the platform. The only means of getting into it was 
 through an opening directly in front. Towards this I 
 was encouraged to climb over the thills, but met with 
 an obstacle, in the form of my trunk, which seemed 
 effectually to block up the entrance. 
 
 " Thar', now ! I told ye so," exclaimed one of the 
 bystanders, a large number of whom had mysteriously 
 gathered about the scene. " You'd orter got her in 
 first." 
 
 A disconsolate silence prevailed. The trunk had 
 been elevated to its present position through the most 
 painful exertions.
 
 26 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " Perhaps I can climb over it," I said, and bravely 
 made the attempt. 
 
 No one knew, in the voiceless darkness, of the 
 suddenly helpless and collapsed condition in which I 
 landed on the other side. I groped about for a seat, 
 and finally succeeded in finding one at the extreme rear 
 of the vehicle. 
 
 'Rasmus drove. He was situated somewhere, some- 
 how I could not tell where nor how in the realm 
 of vacancy on the other side of the trunk ; I only know 
 that he seemed a long way off. Under these circum- 
 stances conversation was rendered extremely difficult. 
 I learned that Mr. Philander Keeler was away at sea ; 
 that Mrs. Philander Keeler lived at the Ark, with Cap'n 
 and Grandma Keeler, and the two little Keelers. 
 
 'Rasmus was the unmistakable son of his father. 
 
 " And it ain't no got-up ark, neither ! " he yelled at 
 me, in a tone which pierced through the distance and 
 the darkness, and every intervening obstacle. " It's 
 the reg'lar old Ark ! It's what Noer, and the elephant, 
 and them fellows come over in ! " 
 
 I did not wonder, as we journeyed on, that my 
 informant of the dkpbt platform had used his "ups" 
 and " downs " indiscriminately in indicating the direction 
 of Wallencamp. In the inky blackness by which I was 
 surrounded I was conscious, clearly, of but one sensa- 
 tion that of going up and down. The rumbling of the 
 wheels reached me as something far oft and indefinably 
 dreadful. 
 
 Then we stopped, and I crawled out like one in a 
 dream. There was no light at the Ark to make it a 
 distinguishable feature of the gloom. 'Rasmus found
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. ty 
 
 the door and knocked loudly. I became dimly conscious 
 of the knocking, and followed 'Rasmus. 
 
 "I reckon they're to bed," said he, and knocked 
 louder. 
 
 Pretty soon a clear, feminine voice, startled into 
 musical sharpness, issued from a room quite near, 
 with " Who's there ? " and was followed by two 
 small, squealing voices, in unison, " Who's there ? " 
 
 Then other sounds arose sounds from some quartet 
 mysterious and remote a low, mumbling, comfortable 
 refrain, and ominous snatches of an uneasy grumble; 
 then a roar that shook the Ark to its foundations : 
 
 " Who the devil's making such a rumpus out there at 
 this time in the mornin' ? " (It was nine o'clock P.M.) 
 'Rasmus sent back an intrepid yell : 
 
 " It's the tea-cher ! It's pretty late," he said, aside, 
 to me. " I guess I won't go in. I reckon they won't 
 have much style on. I seen ye pay father ; that's all 
 right. I'll tip yer trunk up under the shed, and the old 
 Cap'n '11 see to gettin' it in in the mornin'. Here's a letter 
 the postmaster sent down to the Cap'n's folks. Good 
 night." 
 
 'Rasmus, my only hope ! I made a convulsive grasp 
 for him in the darkness, but he was gone. 
 
 It was she of the soothing, comfortable voice who 
 took me in ; and Grandma Keeler's taking in I under- 
 stand always in the divinest and fullest sense of the 
 term. 
 
 Further than that, I was conscious that there were 
 white-robed and nightcapped figures moving about the 
 room. So unearthly was their appearance that I had, 
 at last, a r>nfused notion of having become disengaged
 
 38 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 from the entanglements of the flesh, and fallen in with 
 a small planetary system in the course of my wanderings 
 through space. The centre of attraction seemed to be 
 a table, to which the figures were constantly bringing 
 more pies. 
 
 The letter which 'Rasmus had directed me to hand to 
 the " folks " was read with interest, being the one I had 
 dispatched from Newtown, a week or two before, inform- 
 ing them as to the time of my arrival. 
 
 Madeline rendered the brief and business-like epistle 
 with the full effect of her peculiarly thrilling intonation, 
 and Grandma listened with rapt attention ; but, mean- 
 while, Grandpa Keeler and the two little Keelers found 
 time surreptitiously to dispose of nearly a whole pie, with 
 the serious aspect of those who will not allow a mere 
 fleeting diversion to hinder them in the improvement of 
 a rare opportunity. 
 
 Having declined to partake of pie, through Grandma 
 Keeler's kind interposition, I was not further urged. 
 
 " Thar', poor darlin '," said she ; " fix her up a good 
 cup o' your golden seal, pa, and she shall go to bed 
 right in the parlor to-night, seein' as we didn't get the 
 letter, and hain't got her room fixed upstairs. It's all 
 nice and warm, and thar', darlin', thar', we're r'al good 
 for nussin' folks up." 
 
 In the parlor, I saw only one great, delicious object 
 a bed. My weary brain hardly exaggerated its dimen- 
 sions, which could not have failed to strike with aston- 
 ishment even the most indifferent observer. It was 
 long ; it was broad ; it was deep ; and, alas ! it was high. 
 I disrobed as best I might, and stood before it, gazing 
 despairingly up at its snowy summit.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 29 
 
 Then, remembering my experience with the trunk, I 
 approached at one extreme, scaled the headboard, fell 
 over into an absorbing sea of feathers, and, at that very 
 instant it seemed, the perplexing nature of mortal affairs 
 ceased to burden my mind.
 
 30 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I BLOW THE HORN. 
 
 ORNING dawned on my mission to Wallen- 
 camp. My wakening was not an enthusiastic 
 %\ one. Slowly my bewildered vision became fixed 
 on an object on the wall opposite, as the least fantastic 
 amid a group of objects. It was a sketch in water-colors 
 of a woman in an expansive hoop and a skirt of brilliant 
 hue, flounced to the waist. She stood with a singularly 
 erect and dauntless front, over a grave on which was 
 written " Consort." I observed, with a childlike won- 
 der, which concealed no latent vein of criticism, the 
 glowing carmine of her cheeks, the unmixed blue of her 
 pupilless eyes, from a point exactly in the centre of which 
 a geometric row of tears curved to the earth. A weeping 
 willow somewhat too green, alas! drooped with 
 evident reluctance over the scene, but cast no shade on 
 its contrasting richness. The title of the piece was 
 ** Bereavement" By some strange means, it served as 
 the pole-star to my wandering thoughts. 
 
 As I gazed and wondered my life took on again a 
 definite form and purpose. The events of the preced- 
 ing day rose in gradual succession before me, and I pro- 
 ceeded to descend from the heights I had scaled the 
 night before.

 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 31 
 
 I looked at my watch. It was eight o'clock, and 
 school should begin at nine. Yet the occasion witnessed 
 no feverish display of haste on my part. I saw that the 
 difficulties which I was destined to endure in the per- 
 formance of my toilet that morning called either for 
 philosophy or madness. I chose philosophy. 
 
 The portion of the Ark surrounding my bed was cut 
 up into little recesses, crannies, nooks, used, presum- 
 ably, for storing the different pairs of animals in the 
 trying events which preceded the Flood. In one of 
 these, I had a dim recollection of having secreted my 
 clothes, in the disordered condition of my brain the night 
 before. So I cast desultory glances about me for these 
 articles on the way, having first set out on a search for a 
 looking-glass. In one dark recess I came into forcible 
 contact with a hanging-shelf of pies. I thought what a 
 moment that would have been for Grandpa Keeler and 
 the little Keelers ! but I had been brought up on hygienic, 
 as well as moral, principles, and moved away without a 
 sigh. In another sequestered nook, I paused with a sin- 
 ful mixture of curiosity and delight, before a Chinese 
 idol standing alone on a pedestal. 
 
 There was a strangeness and a newness about things 
 at the Ark that began to be exhilarating. I was reminded, 
 in a negative sort of way, that I had intended to begin 
 my work on this new day with a prayer to the true God 
 for strength and assistance. I had found it necessary to 
 make this resolve because, although I had a " fixed habit 
 of prayer," it was reserved rather for occasions of special 
 humiliation than resorted to as an everyday indulgence ; 
 practically, I had well nigh dispensed with it altogether. 
 
 However, I started back in an intently serious frame
 
 32 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 of mind to find my couch. I lost my way, and stumbling 
 against a swinging-door which opened into a compara- 
 tively spacious apartment, what was my joy to discover 
 my trunk, with the portmanteau containing my keys on 
 top of it. 
 
 I then proceeded to array myself with an absorbing 
 ardor and devotion, doing my hair before a hand-glass 
 with rare resignation of spirit. I began to feel more and 
 more like an incorporated existence, and admitted a 
 sudden eagerness to join the Keeler family at break- 
 fast. 
 
 I had no hesitation which direction to take, being 
 guided by the sound of voices and wafts of penetrating 
 odors. 
 
 It was a fortunate direction, for I discovered on the 
 way my lost apparel artfully concealed under a small 
 melodeon, and, strangely enough, I was again brought 
 face to face with my deserted couch and the weeping lady 
 on the wall. She held me a moment with the old fasci- 
 nation. As I put up my glasses, I thought I detected 
 in her face a hitherto unnoticed buoyancy of expression 
 and not having wholly escaped in my life from ideas of 
 a worldly nature, I reflected that, probably, her regretted 
 consort had left her with a sufficent number of thousands. 
 
 In this same connection, I was reminded that I, myself, 
 had started out on an independent career, and wondered 
 if it would be unkind or undutiful in me to start a private 
 bank account of my own. I concluded that it would 
 not. 
 
 When I entered the little room where the Keelei 
 family was assembled : 
 
 " Why, here's our teacher 1 " exclaimed Grandma
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 33 
 
 Keeler in accents of delight, and came to meet me with 
 outstretched arms. " We couldn't abear to wake ye up, 
 dearie," she went on, "knowin' ye was so tired this 
 mornin' ; and there's plenty o' time plenty o' time. 
 My Casindana come home ! " she murmured, with a smile 
 and a tremble of the lips, and a far-away look, tor the 
 instant, in her gentle eyes. 
 
 In fact, the whole Keeler family received me with 
 outstretched arms. If I had been a long-lost child, or a 
 friend known and loved in days gone by, I could not 
 have been more cordially and enthusiastically welcomed. 
 
 The best chair was set for me ; glances of eager and 
 inquiring interest were bent upon me. 
 
 I accepted it all coolly, though not without a certain 
 air of affability, too, for I had a natural desire to make 
 myself agreeable to people, when it wasn't too much 
 trouble ; but I was quite firm, at this time, in the con- 
 viction that there was little or no faith to be put in human 
 nature. On the whole I was much entertained and 
 interested. 
 
 The two children came to climb into my lap ; but this 
 part of the acquaintance did not progress very fast. I 
 thought they must have been struck by something in my 
 eye (I was merely wondering abstractedly if their heads 
 were not out of proportion to the rest of their bodies), for 
 they paused, and Mrs. Philander called them away 
 sharply. 
 
 Mrs. Philander was a frail little woman, she could 
 not have been over thirty or thirty-two years old, not 
 pretty, though she had a very airy and graceful way of 
 comporting herself. Her eyes were large and dark, with 
 a strange, melancholy gleam in them.
 
 34 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 1 never knew the secrets of Mrs. Philander's heart. 
 She had often a tired, tense look about the mouth, and 
 seemed often sorely discontent ; but she had the sweet- 
 est voice I ever heard. She was familiarly called Mad- 
 eline. 
 
 Grandpa or Cap'n Keeler was over eighty years old. 
 He had a tall, powerful frame at least, it spoke of 
 great power in the past and I thought his eye must 
 have been uncommonly dark and keen once. 
 
 From his manly irascibility of temperament, and his 
 frequent would-be authoritativeness of tone, one might 
 have inferred, from a passing glimpse, that Grandpa 
 Keeler was something of a tyrant in the family ; but I 
 soon learned that his sway was of an extremely vague and 
 illusory nature. 
 
 Grandma Keeler was twenty years his junior. She 
 had not married him until she was herself quite advanced 
 in life, and had had one husband. 
 
 " To be sure," I heard her say once, " I ain't quite so 
 far advanced as husband, but, then, it don't make no 
 difference how young the girl is, you know." 
 
 She used to sit down and laugh one of Grandma's 
 " r'al good laughs " was incompatible with a standing 
 posture until the tears rolled down her cheeks, and 
 she had to wipe them off with the corner of her apron. 
 
 She had been thrown from a wagon once how often 
 and thrillinglyhave I heard dear Grandma Keeler relate 
 the particulars of that accident ! She had broken at that 
 time, I believe, nearly every bone in her body. Long 
 was the story of her fall, but longer still the tale of her 
 recuperation. In due course of time, she had grown 
 together again ; could now use all her limbs, and was in
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 33 
 
 superabundant flesh. There was an unnatural sort of 
 stiffness about her movements, however, her way of 
 walking particularly. She advanced but slowly, and 
 allowed her weight to fall from one foot to another 
 without any perceptible bend of any joint whatever. 
 
 I have stood at one end of a room and seen Grandma 
 Keeler approaching from the other, when it seemed as 
 though she was not making auy progress at all, but 
 merely going through with an odd sort of balancing pro- 
 cess in order to maintain her equilibrium. 
 
 As for Grandma Keeler's face, there was enough in it 
 to make several ordinary scrimped faces. Besides large 
 physical proportions, there was enough in it of generosity, 
 enough of whole-heartedness, a world of sympathy. 
 The great catastrophe of her life had affected the 
 muscles of her face so that although she enunciated her 
 words very distinctly, she had a slow, automatic way of 
 moving her lips. 
 
 The room where the breakfast-table was set was the 
 same that I had entered first, on my arrival at Wallen- 
 camp. It was low and small, but capable, as I learned 
 afterward, of holding any amount of things and people 
 without ever seeming crowded. There was a cooking- 
 stove in it, and many other articles of modest worth, so 
 artlessly scattered about as to present a scene of the 
 wildest and richest profusion. 
 
 Art was not entirely wanting, however. There was a 
 ray of it on the wall behind the stove-pipe, the compan- 
 ion-piece to " Bereavement," entitled " Joy," and repre- 
 sented my heroine of the bed-chamber, reclining on a 
 rustic bench in rather an unflounced and melancholy 
 condition. In one place there hung a yellow family
 
 36 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 register, which was kept faithfully supplied from week to 
 week with a wreath of fresh evergreens. It was headed 
 by a woodcut representing a funeral, Grandma Keeler 
 said ; but Grandpa Keeler afterwards informed me, aside, 
 with much solemnity, that it was a " marriage ceremony." 
 Near the foot of the list of births, marriages and deaths, 
 I saw " Casindana Keeler ; died, aged twenty." 
 
 We sat down at the table. There was a brief alterca- 
 tion between Dinslow and Grace, the little Keelers, in 
 which impromptu missiles, such as spoons and knives 
 and small tin-cups, were hurled across the table with 
 unguided wrath, and both infants yelled furiously. 
 
 Grandma had nearly succeeded in quieting them, when 
 Madeline remarked to Grandpa Keeler, in her lively and 
 flippant style : 
 
 !i Come, pa, say your piece." 
 
 "How am I going to say anything?" inquired 
 Grandpa, wrathfully, " in such a bedlam ? " 
 
 " Thar', now, thar' ! " said Grandma Keeler, in her 
 soothing tone ; " It's all quiet now and time we was 
 eatin' breakfast, so ask the blessin', pa, and don't let's 
 have no more words about it." 
 
 Whereupon the old sea-captain bowed his head, and, 
 with a decided touch of asperity still lingering in his 
 voice, sped through the lines : 
 
 * God bless the food which now we take ; 
 May it do us good, for Jesus' sake." 
 
 "Now, Dinnie," said Grandma Keeler, beguilinglyj 
 but it was not until after much coaxing and threatening, 
 and the promise of a spoonful of sugar when it was over, 
 that Dinslow was induced to solicit the same blessing, in
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 37 
 
 the same poetical terms, and with an expedition still 
 more alarming. 
 
 Then Gracie, with tears not yet dried from the late 
 conflict, lifted up her voice in a rapture of miniature 
 delight ; " Dinnie says, 'gobble the food ' ! Dinnie says, 
 gobble the food!'" 
 
 " Didn't say ' gobble the food ! ' " exclaimed Dinslow, 
 blacker than a little thunder-cloud. 
 
 Madeline anticipated the rising storm, and stamped 
 her foot and cried : " Will you be still ? " 
 
 It was Grandma Keeler who quietly and adroitly 
 restored peace to the troubled waters. 
 
 The Wallencampers, including the Keeler family, were 
 not accustomed to speak of bread as a compact and 
 staple article of food, but rather as one of the hard 
 means of sustaining existence represented by the term 
 " hunks." At the table, it was not " will you pass me 
 the bread?" but and I shall never forget the sweet 
 tunefulness of Madeline's tone in this connection 
 " Will you hand me a hunk ? " 
 
 The hunks were an unleavened mixture of flour and 
 water, about the size and consistency of an ordinary 
 laborer's fist. 
 
 I was impressed, in first sitting down at the Keelers' 
 table, with a sense of my own ignorance as to the most 
 familiar details of life, but soon learned to speak confi- 
 dently of" hunks," and " fortune stew," and "slit herrin 1 ," 
 and " golden seal." 
 
 Fortune stew was a dish of small, round blue potatoes, 
 served perfectly whole in a milk gravy. 
 
 I cherish the memory of this dish as sacred, as well as 
 that of all the other dishes that ever appeared on the
 
 38 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Wallewcamp table. They were the products of faithful 
 and loving hands to which nature had given a peculiar 
 direction, perhaps, but which strove always to the best 
 of their ability. 
 
 Slit herrin' was a long-dried, deep-salted edition of 
 the native alewife, a fish in which Wallencamp abounded. 
 They hung in massive tiers from the roofs of the 
 Wallencamp barns. The herrin' was cut open, and 
 without having been submitted to any mollifying process 
 whatever, not one assuaging touch of its native element, 
 was laid flat in the spider, and fried. 
 
 I saw the Keeler family, from the greatest to the 
 least, partake of this arid and rasping substance unblink- 
 ingly, and I partook also. The brine rose to my eyes 
 and coursed its way down my cheeks, and Grandma 
 Keeler said I was " homesick, poor thing ! " 
 
 The golden seal, a " remedy for toothache, headache, 
 sore-throat, sprains, etc., etc.," was served in a diluted 
 state with milk and sugar, and taken as a beverage. 
 The herrin' had destroyed my sense of taste ; anything 
 in a liquid state was alike delectable to me, and while I 
 drank, I had a sense of having become somehow 
 mysteriously connected with the book of Revelations. 
 "We used to think," Grandma proceeded mildly to 
 elucidate, " that it had ought to be took externally, but 
 husband, he was painin' around one time, and nothin' 
 didn't seem to do him no good, and so we ventured 
 some of it inside of him, and he didn't complain no 
 more for a great while afterwards." I appreciated the 
 hidden meaning of these words when I saw how sparingly 
 Grandpa Keeler partook of the golden seal. " So then 
 we tried some of it ourselves, and ra'ly begun to like it
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 39 
 
 so weVe got into the habit of drinkin' it along through 
 the winter, it's so quietin', and may not be no special 
 need of it, so far as we can see, but then, it's allus well 
 enough to be on the safe side, for there's no knowin'," 
 concluded Grandma, solemnly, " what disease may be a 
 growin' up inside of you." 
 
 "My brother invented on't," said Grandpa Keeler, 
 looking up at me from under his shaggy eyebrows with 
 questionable pride. He went on more glowingly, how- 
 ever ; " There's a picter of my brother on every bottle^ 
 teacher." (Madeline immediately ran from her chair, 
 went into an adjoining room, and brought out a bottle to 
 show me.) " Ye see, he used to wear them air long 
 ringlets, though he was a powerful man, John was ; but 
 his hair curled as pretty as a girl's. Oh, he was a great 
 dandy, John was; a great dandy." Grandpa Keeler 
 straightened himself up and his eyes brightened percep- 
 tibly. 
 
 " Never wore nothin' but the finest broadcloth ; why, 
 there's a pair of black broadcloth pants o' his'n that 
 you'll see, come Sunday, teacher ! " 
 
 " Wall, thar', now, pa," said Grandma Keeler, reprov- 
 ingly ; " I wouldn't tell everything." 
 
 " Le' me see," continued Grandpa ; " I had eight 
 brothers, teacher, yis, yis, there was nine boys in all," 
 nodding his head emphatically, and proceeding to> count 
 on his fingers. 
 
 Grandma Keeler laid her knife and fork aside, 04. 
 though she felt that the occasion was an important one, 
 and that she had a grave duty to perform in regard to it. 
 
 " Thar' was Philemon, he comes first, that makes one, 
 don't it ? and there was Doddridge "
 
 40 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " Sure he comes next, pa ? " interposed Grandma ; 
 "for now you're namin' of em, you might as well git 'em 
 right." 
 
 "Yis, yis, ma," replied the old man, hastily. "Then 
 there was Winfield and John, they're all dead now, and 
 Bartholomew, he was first mate in a sailin' vessel ; fine 
 man, Bartholomew was, fine man; he " 
 
 " Wall, thar' now," said Grandma ; " you'll never git 
 through namin' on 'em, pa, if you stop to talk about 
 'em." 
 
 "Yis, yis," continued Grandpa, hopelessly confused, 
 and showing dark symptoms of smouldering wrath; 
 " there was Bartholomew. That makes a, le' me see, 
 Bartholomew, " 
 
 " How many Bartholomews was there ? " inquired 
 Grandma, with pitiless coolness of demeanor. 
 
 " Thar', now, ma, ye've put me all out ! " cried Grand- 
 pa, taking refuge in loud and desperate reproach ; " I 
 was gettin' along first-rate ; why couldn't ye a kept still 
 and let me reckoned 'em through ? " 
 
 "Yer musn't blame me, pa, 'cause yer can't carry 
 yer own brothers in yer head." There was a touch of 
 gentle reproach in Grandma's calm voice. " Why, 
 there was my mother's cousin 'Statia, that was only 
 second cousin to me, and no relation at all, on my 
 father's side, and she had thirteen children, three of 'em 
 was twins and one of 'em was thrins, and I could name 
 'em all through, and tell you what year they was born, 
 and what day, and who vaccinated 'em. There was 
 Amelia Day, she was born April ninth, eighteen hundred 
 and seventeen, Doctor Sweet vaccinated her, and it took 
 la five days." And so on Grandma went through the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 41 
 
 entire list, gradually going more and more into particu* 
 lars, but always coming out strong on the main facts. 
 
 The effect could not have failed to deepen in Grand- 
 pa's bosom a mortifying sense of his own incompetency. 
 
 When I got up from the Keelers' breakfast table 
 there was something choking me besides the herrin' and 
 golden seal, and it was not homesickness, either ; but 
 as I stepped out of Mrs. Philander's low door into the 
 light and air, all lesser impulses were forgotten in a glow 
 and thrill of exultation. I wondered if that far, intense 
 blue was the natural color of the Cape Cod sky in 
 winter, and if its January sun always showered down 
 such rich and golden beams. There was no snow on 
 the ground ; the fields presented an almost spring-like 
 aspect, in contrast with the swarthy green of the cedars. 
 The river ran sparkling in summer-fashion at the foot 
 of " Eagle Hill." From the bay, the sea air came up 
 fresh and strong. I drank it with deep inspirations. At 
 that moment it seemed to me that I had indeed been 
 born to perform a mission. It was so hopeful to lurn 
 over an entire fresh leaf in the book of life, and I was 
 resolved to do it heroically, at any cost. I reflected, not 
 without a shade of annoyance, that I had forgotten to say 
 my prayers, after all. At the same time I had a sort of 
 conviction that it wasn't so unfortunate a remissness on 
 my part as it would have been for some less qualified by 
 nature to take care of themselves. 
 
 I discovered the school-house at the end of the lane. 
 The general air of the Wallencamp houses was stranded 
 and unsettled, as though, detained in their present 
 position for some brief and restless season, they dreamed 
 ever of unknown voyages yet to be made on the sea t/
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 They were very poor, very old. Some of them 
 were painted red in front, some of them had only a red 
 door, being otherwise quite brown and unadorned. There 
 was one -exception, Emily GaskelFs that stood on 
 the hill, and was painted all over and had green blinds. 
 
 I heard a mighty rushing sound mingled with whoops 
 and yells and the terrible clamp of running feet, and 
 was made aware that a detachment from my flock was 
 coming up the lane to meet me. 
 
 A girl, taller than I, with stooping shoulders and a 
 piquant and good-natured cast of features, seized my 
 hand and swung it in childish and confiding fashion. 
 She had warts. I wondered, uneasily, if they would be 
 contagious through my gloves. 
 
 I was struck with the uncommon beauty of one sturdy 
 little fellow. He was barefooted (on Cape Cod, in 
 January), and ragged enough to have satisfied the most 
 crazy devotee of the picturesque. His shapely head was 
 set on his shoulders in an exceedingly high-bred way, 
 while its bad archangel effect was intensified by rings ot 
 curling black hair and great, seductive black eyes. 
 
 The children walked back, in comparative quiet, 
 toward the school-house, except this boy. To him care 
 was evidently a thing unknown. He managed, while 
 keeping the distance undiminished between himself and 
 me, to perform a great variety of antics, in which, by 
 way of an occasional relief, his head was seen to rise 
 above his heels. 
 
 Emily's wash had been left out to dry during the 
 night. The wind had torn various articles from the line 
 and carried them down in the direction of the lane 
 fence.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 43 
 
 My gymnastic-performing imp vanished through the 
 bars. In an incredibly short space of time he reappeared, 
 clothed but, alas ! I cannot tell how the imp was 
 clothed, except to say that Emily being a tall woman 
 and the imp but a well-grown boy of ten, the effect was 
 strangely voluminous and oriental. 
 
 This part of the lane was marked by some insignificant 
 though very abrupt depressions and elevations of the 
 surface. Occasionally he of the floating apparel was 
 lost to sight ; then he would appear all glorious on some 
 small height, while the mind was compelled to revert 
 irreverently to the picture of Moses on Mount Pisgah. 
 He was the personification of impudence, withal, looking 
 back and showing his teeth in superlative appreciation 
 of his own sinfulness. He descended, and I looked to 
 see him arise again, but I saw him no more. 
 
 I had a faint and fleeting vision, afterwards, of an 
 apostolic figure flying back across the fields. It was so 
 indistinct as to remain only among the ephemera of my 
 fancy. 
 
 In a fork of the roads, opposite the school-house, 
 stood a house with a red door. It was loaded, in 
 summer, with honeysuckle vines. Aunt Lobelia sat 
 always at the window. Sometimes she had the asthma 
 and sometimes she sang. This morning her favorite 
 refrain from the Moody and Sankey Hymnal was wafted 
 in loud accents up the lane : 
 
 " Bar' to be a Danyell I 
 Dar' to be a Danyell ! 
 Dar' to make it known I " 
 
 As I entered the school-house, the inspiring strains 
 till followed me.
 
 44 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 There was a large Franklin stove within, which ex- 
 hibited the most enormous draught power, emitting 
 sparks and roaring in a manner frightful to contem- 
 plate. 
 
 Aunt Patty, who acted the part of janitress of the 
 school-house at night and morning, had written on 
 the blackboard in a large admonitory hand, " No 
 spitting on this floor, you ninnies ! " 
 
 The bench, containing the water-pail, occupied the 
 most central position in the room. At one side of the 
 bench hung a long-handled tin dipper; on the other, 
 another tin instrument, resembling an ear-trumpet, pro- 
 foundly exaggerated in size. 
 
 "That's what you've got to blow to call us in," 
 exclaimed a small child, with anticipative enlivenment. 
 
 I went to the door with the instrument. 
 
 a Dar' to be a Danyell ! 
 Dar' to make it known." 
 
 The stirring measures came across from Aunt Lobelia's 
 window. Then the singer paused. 
 
 There were other faces at other windows. The coun- 
 tenances of the boys and girls gathered about the door 
 were ominously expressive. I lifted the horn to my lips. 
 I blew upon it what was intended for a cheerful and 
 exuberant call to duty, but to my chagrin it emitted no 
 sound whatever. I attempted a gentle, soul-stirring 
 strain ; it was as silent as the grave. I seized it with both 
 hands, and, oblivious to the hopeful derision gathering 
 on the faces of those about me, I breathed into it all 
 the despair and anguish of my expiring breath. It 
 gave forth a hollow, soulless, and lugubrious squeak,
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 45 
 
 ntterly out of proportion to the vital force expended, 
 yet I felt that I had triumphed, and detected a new 
 expression of awe and admiration on the faces of my 
 flock. 
 
 " I don't see how she done it," I heard one freckled- 
 faced boy exclaim, confidingly to another ; " with a hull 
 button in thar' ! " 
 
 " Who put the button in the horn ? " I inquired of 
 the youngster afterwards, quite in a pleasant tone, and 
 with a smile on which I had learned to depend for a 
 particularly delusive effect ; at the same time I put up 
 my glasses to impress him with a sense of awe. 
 
 " Simmy B.," he answered. 
 
 "And which is Simmy B.? " I questioned, glancing 
 about the school-room. 
 
 "Oh, he ain't comin' in," gasped my informer; "he 
 run over cross-lots with Emily's clo's on." 
 
 I had planned not to confine my pupils to the ordinary 
 method of imbibing knowledge through the medium of 
 text-books, but by means of lectures, which should be 
 interspersed with lively anecdotes and rich with the 
 fruitful products of my own experience, to teach them. 
 
 My first lecture was, quite appropriately, on the duty 
 of close application and faithful persistence in the 
 acquisition of knowledge, depicting the results that 
 would inevitably accrue from the observance of such a 
 course, and here, glowing and dazzled by my theme, I 
 even secretly regretted that modesty forbade me to 
 recommend to my pupils, as a forcible illustration, one 
 who occupied so conspicuous a position before them. 
 
 My new method of instruction, though not appreciated, 
 perhaps, in its intrinsic design, was received, I could 
 not but observe, with the most unbounded favor.
 
 ^6 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 After the first open-mouthed surprise had passed away 
 from the countenances of my audience, I was loudly 
 importuned on all sides for water. I was myself ex- 
 travagantly thirsty. I requested all those who had " slit 
 herrin' " for breakfast to raise their hands. 
 
 Every hand was raised. 
 
 I gravely inquired if slit herrin' formed an ordinary 
 or accustomed repast in Wallencamp, and was unani- 
 mously assured in the affirmative. 
 
 After dwelling briefly on the gratitude that should fill 
 our hearts in view of the unnumbered blessings of Provi- 
 dence, I inaugurated a system by which a pail of fresh 
 water was to be drawn from one of the neighboring wells, 
 and impartially distributed among the occupants of the 
 school-room, once during each successive hour of the day. 
 The water was to be passed about in the tin dipper, in 
 an orderly manner, by some member of the flock, 
 properly appointed to that office, either on account of 
 general excellence or some particular mark of good 
 behavior; though I afterwards found it advisable 
 not to insist on any qualifications of this sort, but to 
 elect the water-bearers merely according to their respect- 
 ive rank in age. This really proved to be one of the most 
 lively and interesting exercises of the school, was always 
 cheerfully undertaken, executed in the most complete and 
 faithful manner, and never on any account forgotten or 
 omitted. 
 
 I drank, and continued my lecture, but the first look 
 of attractive surprise never came back to the faces of 
 my audience. They sought diversion in a variety of 
 ways, acquitting themselves throughout with a commend- 
 able degree of patience until they found it necessary 
 gently to admonish me that it was time for recess.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 47 
 
 After recess, as the result of deep meditation, in which 
 I had concluded that the mind of the Wallencamp youth 
 was not yet prepared for the introduction of new and 
 advanced methods, I examined my pupils preparatory 
 to giving them lessons and arranging them in classes, in 
 the ordinary way. I found that they could not read, 
 but they could write in a truly fluent and unconventional 
 style ; they could not commit prosaical facts to memory, 
 but they could sing songs containing any number of 
 irrelevant stanzas. They could not"cipher,"but they had 
 witty and salient answers ready for any emergency. 
 There seemed to be no particular distinction among 
 them in regard to the degree of literary attainment, so I 
 arranged them in classes, with an eye mainly to the novel 
 and picturesque in appearance. 
 
 They were a little disappointed at the turn in affairs, 
 having evidently anticipated much from the continuation 
 of the lecture system, yet they were disposed to look 
 forward to school-life, in any case, as not without its 
 ameliorating conditions.
 
 48 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IHE BEAUX OF WALLENCAMP PERFORM A GRAVE DUTY. 
 
 E have our r'al, good, comfortin' meal at night," 
 Grandma Keeler had said, and the thought 
 was uppermost in my mind at the close of my 
 first day's labor in Wallencamp. I had taken a walk to 
 the beach ; a strong east wind had come up, and the 
 surf was rolling in magnificently ; a wild scene, from a 
 wild shore, more awful then, in the gathering gloom. 
 The long rays of light streaming out of the windows of 
 the Ark guided me back across the fields. Within, all 
 was warmth and cheer and festive expectation. Grandma 
 Keeler was in such spirits ; a wave of mirthful inspiration 
 would strike her, she would sink into a chair, the tears 
 would roll down her cheeks, and she would shake with 
 irrepressible laughter. It was in one of her serious 
 moments that she said to me : 
 
 " Thar', teacher, I actually believe that I ain't made 
 you acquainted with my two tea-kettles." They stood 
 side by side oil the stove, one very tall and lean, the 
 other very short and plump. " This 'ere," said Grandma, 
 pointing to the short one ; " is Rachel, and this 'ere," 
 pointing to the tall one, "is Abigail, and Abigail's a 
 graceful creetur' to be sure," Grandma reflected 
 admiringly ; " but then Rachel has the most powerful 
 delivery I "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 49 
 
 I was thus enabled to understand the allusions I had 
 already heard to Rachel's being " dry," or Abigail's 
 being as "full as a tick," or vice versa. 
 
 The table was neatly spread with a white cloth ; there 
 was an empty bowl and a spoon at each individual's place. 
 In the centre of the table stood a pitcher of milk and a 
 bowl of sugar. Grandpa Keeler having asked the bless- 
 ing after the approved manner of the morning, there 
 was a general uprising and moving, bowl in hand, towards 
 the cauldron of hulled corn on the stove. This was 
 lively, and there was a pleasurable excitement about 
 skimming the swollen kernels of corn out of the boiling, 
 seething liquid in which they were immersed. Eaten 
 afterwards with milk and sugar and a little salt, the com- 
 pound became possessed of a truly " comforting " 
 nature. 
 
 I stood, for the second time, over the kettle with my 
 eye-glasses securely adjusted, very earnestly and thought- 
 fully occupied in wielding the skimmer, when the door 
 of the Ark suddenly opened and a mischievously 
 smiling young man appeared on the threshold. He was 
 not a Wallencamper, I saw at a glance. There was 
 about him an unmistakable air of the great world. He 
 was fashionably dressed and rather good-looking, with a 
 short upper lip and a decided tinge of red in his hair. 
 He stood staring at me with such manifest appreciation 
 of the situation in his laughing eyes, that I felt a barba- 
 rous impulse to throw the skimmer of hot corn at him. 
 It was as though some flimsy product of an advanced 
 civilization had come in to sneer at the sacred customs 
 of antiquity. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," the intruder began, addressing
 
 50 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 the Keeler family with exceeding urbanity of roice and 
 manner ; " I fear that I have happened in rather inop- 
 portunely, but I dared not of course transgress our 
 happy Arcadian laws by knocking at the door." 
 
 " Oh, Lordy, yis, yis, and the fewer words the better. 
 You know our ways by this time, fisherman," exclaimed 
 Grandpa Keeler. " Come in ! come in ! Nobody that 
 calls me friend need knock at my door." 
 
 " Come in ! come in, fisherman ! Won't you set, 
 fisherman?" hospitably chimed in Grandma Keeler. 
 
 " Ah, thank you ! may I consider your kind invitation 
 deferred, merely," said the fisherman, suavely, "and 
 excuse me if I introduce a little matter of business with 
 the Captain. We carelessly left our oars on the banks 
 yesterday, Captain Keeler, they were washed off, I have 
 ordered some more, but can't get them by to-morrow. 
 I hear you have a pair laid by, I should like to pur- 
 chase." 
 
 "What, is it the old oars ye want?" interrupted 
 Grandpa, " why, Lord a massy ! you know whar' they be, 
 fisherman, alongside that old pile o' rubbish on hither 
 side o' the barn, and don't talk about purchasin' take 
 'em and keep 'em as long as ye want, they ain't no 
 account to me now." 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, Captain," the fisher- 
 man said, " I am very sorry to have interrupted this 
 a" 
 
 "Why, no interruption, I'm sure," said Grandma 
 Keeler, good-naturedly, " we've kep' right along eatin'." 
 
 "Want a lantern to look for 'em eh?" inquired 
 Grandpa Keeler, for the fisherman lingered, hesitating, 
 on the threshold.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 51 
 
 " This is our teacher, fisherman," said Grandma, in 
 her gentle, tranquillizing tones, " and this 'ere is one of 
 Emily's fishermen, teacher, and may the Lord bless ye 
 in yer acquaintance," she added with simple fervor. 
 
 The fisherman saluted me with a bow which reflected 
 great credit on his former dancing-master. He mur- 
 mured the polite formula in a low tone, at the same time 
 shooting another covertly laughing glance at me out of 
 his eyes. As the door closed behind him, " Ah, that's 
 a sleek devil ! " said Grandpa Keeler, giving me a mean- 
 ing glance from under his shaggy eyebrows. 
 
 " Wall, thar' now, pa, I wouldn't blaspheme, not if I'd 
 made the professions you have," said Grandma, with 
 grave reproval. 
 
 " A sleek dog," continued Grandpa Keeler; " tongue 
 as smooth as butter, all ' how d' yer do ! ' and ' how d* 
 yer do ! ' but I don't trust them fishermen much, myself, 
 teacher." 
 
 " Who are the fishermen ? " I inquired. 
 
 " They board up to Emily's," said Grandma. " They 
 come from Providence and around, and they stay here, 
 off and on, a week or two to a time, along through the win- 
 ter, some of 'em. They fish pickerel on the river, and 
 sometimes they're blue-fishin' out in the bay, and quite 
 generally they're just kitin' round as young men will, I 
 suppose. Sometimes they have vittles sent to 'em and 
 Emily she cooks for 'em.'" 
 
 " Why, they're off on a spree, that's all," said Grandpa 
 Keeler, comprehensively, giving me another significant 
 glance ; " they're off on a spree, and ye see they think 
 this 'ere is jest a right fur enough out the way place for 
 'em. This 'ere red-haired one that was in here this
 
 52 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 evenin', Rollin his name is, he's a dreadful rich one, I 
 suppose, dreadful rich ! I've heered all about him. 
 He's an old bachelder, I reckon, that is, he keeps mighty 
 spruce, but I reckon he's hard on to thirty. Emily's 
 got a cousin that works for some o' them big folks down 
 to Providence, and she's heered all about him, this red- 
 haired one, and how he keeps a big house down thar', 
 and sarvants enough, massy ! and half the time he's 
 hither and yon, and a throwin' out money like water. 
 His father and mother they're dead, so I've heered, and 
 he used to have gardeens over him, but he haint kep' no 
 gardeens lately, I reckon," said Grandpa, with grim 
 facetiousness. 
 
 " Why, he's been a waitin' on Weir's daughter, down 
 here Becky. She goes to school to you, teacher," the 
 old man added, presently, brightening with a senile pre- 
 dilection for gossip. 
 
 " Becky's a very sensible girl," said Grandma Keeler ; 
 " and don't cast no sheep's eyes, but goes right along 
 and minds her own business. Becky plays very purty on 
 the music, too." 
 
 " Yes. But you know Dave Rollin wouldn't any more 
 think of marrying Becky Weir than he would of marrying 
 me," cried Mrs. Philander. " Of all the fishermen that 
 have come down here not one of them ever married in 
 Wallencamp. He's just trifling, and she thinks he's in 
 real earnest ; anybody can see that. You've only to 
 mention his name to see her flush up as red as a rose. 
 I tell you this is a strange world," Madeline snapped 
 out sharply ; " and Dave Rollin, I suppose, is one of the 
 gentlemen." 
 
 "We ain't no right to say but what he's honest," said
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 53 
 
 Grandma Keeler ; " Becky she's honest herself, and she 
 takes it in other folks. She's more quiet than some of 
 our girls be, and higher notions, and she's young and 
 haint never been away nowhere, and no wonder if he 
 waits on her she should take a kind o' fancy to him." 
 
 " You know, ma," continued Madeline, " that Dave 
 Rollin would never take her home among his folks, 
 never ; and if I was Becky's mother I'd shut the door in 
 his face before I'd ever have him fooling around my 
 house, and she should never stir out of the house with 
 him, never ! " 
 
 " I don't suppose there's much use in talking to the 
 girl," said Grandma ; " Emily was in here the other day, 
 and Becky, she happened to come in the same time, and 
 I didn't see no use in Emily's speaking up in the way 
 she did ; for, says she, ' What do you have that Dave 
 Rollin flirtin' around you for, Beck ? What do you 
 suppose he wants o' you 'cept to amuse himself a little 
 when he ain't nothin' better to do, and then go off and 
 forgit he's seen ye ! ' And Becky didn't say nothin', 
 but she give Emily a dreadful long, quiet kind of a look 
 out of her eyes." 
 
 " She hasn't lost quite all of Weir's temper since she's 
 been seeking religion," said Madeline, in a strangely 
 light and vivacious tone. Grandma and Grandpa Keeler, 
 by the way, were good Methodists, but Madeline was 
 not a " professor." 
 
 " Seeking religion, eh ? " inquired Grandpa Keeler. 
 " She'd better let Dave Rollin alone, then," he added. 
 
 " Let us hope that we shall all on us be brought to a 
 better state of mind," concluded Grandma Keeler, with 
 solemn pertinency.
 
 54 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Before the meal was finished and the table cleared 
 away, the latch of the Ark had been often lifted. 
 
 On all occasions, afterwards, there was a marked and 
 cheerful variety in the nature of the droppers-in at the 
 Ark the children and all the young men and maidens 
 making their appearance with a promiscuousness which 
 precluded the possibility of design but to-night the 
 Wallencamp mind had evidently aimed at some great 
 system of conventionality, and had been eminently 
 successful in evolving a plan. 
 
 The callers were young men exclusively the native 
 youth of Wallencamp. Their blowzy, well-favored faces, 
 which ever afterward appeared to beam with good nature, 
 to-night expressed a sense of some grave affliction 
 heroically to be endured. 
 
 Their best clothes, it was obvious, had been purchased 
 by them " ready-made," and had been designed, 
 originally, for the sons of a less stalwart community. 
 The young men were especially pinched as to their 
 expansive chests, the broadcloth coming much too short 
 at this point, and shrugging up oddly enough at the 
 shoulders, while the phenomenally slick arrangement 
 of their hair was calculated to produce a depressing 
 effect on the mind of the observer. 
 
 As they came in one by one, in a matter of fact way, 
 and Grandma Keeler announced hopefully to each in 
 turn " and this is our teacher ! " they accepted the 
 fact with no more flattering sign than that of a dumb 
 and helpless resignation to the inevitable. They seated 
 themselves about the room in punctilious order, assuming 
 positions painfully suggestive of a conscientious disregard 
 for ease, and seemed to draw some silent support and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 55 
 
 sympathy out of their hats, which they caressed with 
 lingering affection touching to behold. 
 
 Grandma beckoned me aside into the pantry which 
 immediately adjoined the kitchen, and informed me in 
 one of her reverberating whispers, that I " mustn't mind 
 ihe boys being slicked up, for they'd sorter dropped in 
 to make my acquaintance, and, if we wanted the pop- 
 corn, it was in a bag down under where the almanac 
 hung, to the furtherest corner of the wood-box." 
 
 I pondered these mysterious injunctions in silence, 
 and realizing the fact that the Wallencamp beaux had 
 appeared in a body for the express purpose of making 
 my acquaintance, I essayed to show my appreciation of 
 this amiable design by an attempt to engage them in con- 
 versation. My various efforts in this line proved alike 
 futile, and they seemed but to grow impressed with a 
 deeper sense of misery. 
 
 I had a vague intention of going in search of the pop- 
 corn, when, to my sudden dismay, Grandma Keeler 
 and Madeline, who had been noiselessly clearing off the 
 table, emerged from a brief consultation in the pantry, 
 bearing with them a lighted candle, and having given 
 Grandpa Keeler a nod of unmistakable force and 
 significance, disappeared through the door which led 
 into that indefinite extension of the Ark beyond. 
 
 But Grandpa Keeler remained wilfully indifferent to 
 these broadly insinuating tactics. He fancied, poor, 
 deluded old man, that here was a choice opportunity to 
 tell a tale of the seas after a fashion dear to his own 
 heart, unshackled by the restraints of family surveillance. 
 
 A singularly childlike and unapprehensive smile 
 played across his features. He drew his chair up closei
 
 56 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 to the stove and began : " Jest after I was a roundin' 
 Cape Horn the fourth time, I believe, yis, yis, le'me 
 see twenty times I've rounded the Horn, wall, this 
 ere, I reckon, was somewhere nigh about the fourth 
 time." 
 
 Scarcely had Grandpa arranged the merest prelimi- 
 naries of his tale when ominous footsteps were heard 
 returning along the way whither Grandma and Madeline 
 had so recently departed, and he was interrupted by a 
 strangely calm though authoritative voice from behind 
 the door; "Pa!" 
 
 " Wall, wall, ma ! what ye want, ma ? " exclaimed 
 Grandpa, turning his head aside, with a slight shade of 
 annoyance on his face. 
 
 No answer immediately forthcoming, that wofully 
 illusory smile returned again to his features. He moved 
 still nearer to the stove, and was just at the point of 
 resuming the thread of his narrative when 
 
 " Bijonah Keeler ! " came from behind the door in 
 accents still calm, indeed, but freighted with a signifi- 
 cance which words have faint power to express. 
 
 " Yis, yis, ma ! I'm a coming, ma ! " replied Grandpa, 
 rising hastily and shuffling toward the door ; " I'm a 
 coming, ma ! I'm a coming 1 " 
 
 The door opened wide enough to receive him, and 
 then closed upon him in all his ignominy. 
 
 The sound of his voice in irate expostulation, mingled 
 with the steady flow of those serener tones, grew 
 gradually faint in the distance, and I was left alone with 
 the sepulchral group of young men. 
 
 They arose, still maintaining the weighty aspect of 
 those elected to the hour, and abruptly opened their 
 lips in song.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 57 
 
 There was no repression now; the Ark fairly rang 
 with the sonorous strains of that wild Jubilate. 
 They sang : 
 
 ' Light in the darkness, sailor, 
 
 Day is at hand ; 
 See, o'er the foaming billows, 
 Fair haven stands." 
 
 Their voices rolling in at the chorus with the resist- 
 less sweep of the ocean-waves : 
 
 " Pull for the shore, sailor, 
 
 Pull for the shore; 
 Heed not the rolling waves, 
 But bend to the oar : " 
 
 and with a final "-Pull for the shore," that sent that 
 imaginary life-boat bounding high and dry on the strand 
 at the hands of its impulsive crew. 
 
 Then they sat down and wiped the perspiration from 
 their faces, which had become transfigured with a sudden 
 zest and radiance. 
 
 I recovered myself sufficiently to express a bewildered 
 sense of pleasure and gratitude. 
 
 " Do you sing, teacher ? " asked Harvey Dole, a round- 
 faced youth with an irrepressible fund of mirth in his 
 eyes, who had broken in on the former silence with an 
 unguarded little snicker. 
 
 Lovell Barlow, he of the dignified countenance and 
 spade-shaped beard, had faintly and helplessly echoed 
 that snicker, and now repeated Harvey's words : 
 
 " Ahem, certainly Do you sing, teacher ? Do you, 
 now ? Do you sing, you know ? " 
 
 I had some new and seriously awakened doubts on 
 the subject. However, the degree of attainment not
 
 58 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 being brought into question, I felt that I could answer 
 in the affirmative. 
 
 The countenances of the group brightened still more 
 perceptibly. 
 
 " And do you sing No. 2 ? " inquired Harvey, eagerly. 
 
 I tried to assume, in reply, a tone of equal animation. 
 
 " Is it something new ? I don't think I've heard of 
 it before." 
 
 " Why, it's the Moody and Sankey hymn-book !" 
 exclaimed Harvey, looking suddenly blank. 
 
 I strove to soften the effect of this blow by a lively 
 show of recognition. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know perfectly now. It's 'Hold the 
 Fort,' ' Ring the Bells of Heaven,' and all those songs, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 "'Hold the Fort' 's in No. i," said George Olver, a 
 new speaker, with beautiful, brave, brown eyes, and a 
 soldierly bearing. 
 
 He spoke, correcting me, but with the tender consid- 
 eration which a father might display toward an unen- 
 lightened child. 
 
 "There's three numbers," said Harvey Dole, "and 
 you ought to learn to sing 'em, teacher. We sing 'em 
 all the time, down here." 
 
 ** You are fond of singing ? " I questioned. 
 
 Ned Vickery, of lithe figure and straight black hair, 
 a denizen of the Indian encampment, started up, flushing 
 through his dark skin. 
 
 " I lul-love it ! " he said. 
 
 Ned Vickery sang with the most exquisite smooth- 
 ness, but stumbled a little in prosaical conversation. 
 
 A silent Norwegian, Lars Thorjon, who had sat gaz-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS, 
 
 59 
 
 ing at me and smiling, flushed also at the words, and 
 murmured something rapturous with a foreign accent. 
 
 " Yes, we're rather fond of singing." I heard George 
 Olver's resolute tones. 
 
 Harvey Dole gave a low, expressive whistle. 
 
 " I like it, certainly, ahem ! /do. / like it, you 
 know," said Lovell Barlow. 
 
 "We have a singin' time generally every night," said 
 Harvey. " Sometimes Madeline plays for us on her 
 music, and sometimes we go down to Becky's. Made- 
 line's melodeon is very soft and purty, but George here, 
 he likes the tone of Beck's organ best, I reckon. Eh, 
 George ? " 
 
 Harvey winked facetiously at George Olver, who red- 
 dened deeply but did not cast down his eyes. 
 
 "If I was you, George," continued the merciless 
 Harvey ; " I'd lay for that Rollin. Gad, I'd set a match 
 to his hair. I'd nettle him 1 " 
 
 " I'd show him his p-p-place ! " stammered Ned Viet 
 ery, with considerable warmth. 
 
 "/would, certainly," reiterated the automatic LovelL 
 " I'd show him his place, you know ; / would certainly.** 
 
 The big veins swollen out in George Olver's forehead 
 knitted themselves there for an instant sternly. 
 
 " I don't interfere with no man's business," said he. 
 " So long as he means honorable, and car'ies out his 
 actions fa'r and squar 5 , I don't begrudge him his chance 
 nor meddle in his affa'rs." 
 
 Our attention was suddenly diverted from this subject, 
 which was evidently growing to be a painful one to one 
 of the company, by the sound of a violin played with, 
 singular skill and correctness just outside the window.
 
 fo CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " Glory, there's Lute ! " exclaimed Harvey, bounding 
 ecstatically from his chair. 
 
 " Come in, Lute, come in ? " he shouted ; " and show 
 ns what can be got out of a fiddle ! " 
 
 " Let him alone," said George Olver, but the group 
 had already vanished through the door, Lovell following 
 mechanically. 
 
 " That's Lute Cradlebow fiddlin' out thar'," George 
 Olver explained to me. " I don't want 'em to skeer him 
 off, for it ain't every night Lute takes kindly to his fiddle. 
 There's times he won't touch it for days and days. 
 Talkin* about Lute's fiddlin' I suppose it's true 
 there was some fellows out from Boston happened to 
 hear him playin' one night, up to Sandwich te-own, and 
 they offered him a hundred and fifty a month I reckon 
 that's true to go along with some fiddlin' company 
 thar' to Boston, and he'd got more if he'd stuck to it, 
 but Lute, he come driftin' back in the course of a week 
 or two. I don't blame him. He said he was sick on't 
 
 " I tell you how 'tis, teacher. Folks that lives along 
 this shore are allus talkin' more'n any other sort of folks 
 about going off, and complainin' about the hard livin', 
 and cussin' the stingy sile, but thar's suthin' about it 
 sorter holts to 'em. They allus come a driftin' back in 
 some shape or other, in the course of a year or two at 
 the farderest." 
 
 The door was thrown wide open and my recreant 
 guests reappeared half-dragging, half-pushing before 
 them a matchless Adonis in glazed tarpaulin trousers 
 and a coarse sailor's blouse. 
 
 I recognized at once in the perfect physical beauty of 
 the eccentric fiddler only a reproduction, in a larger
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 6l 
 
 form, of that sadly depraved young cherub who had 
 danced before me in ghostly habiliments on the way to 
 school. It was the imp's older brother. 
 
 " Here's Lute, teacher ! " cried Harvey ; " he wouldn't 
 come in 'cause he wasn't slicked up. But I tell him 
 clo's don't make much difference with a humly dog, any- 
 way. Come along, Lute, and put them blushes in your 
 pocket to keep yer hands warm in cold weather. Teacher, 
 this is our champion fiddler, inventor, whale-fisher, cran- 
 berry-picker, and potato-bugger, Luther Larkin Cra- 
 dlebow ! " 
 
 The youth of the tuneful and birdlike name dealt his 
 tormentor a hearty though affectionate cuff on the ears, 
 and being thus suddenly thrust forward, he doffed his 
 broad souwester, took the hand I held out to him, and, 
 stooping down, kissed me, quite in a simple and audible 
 manner, on the cheek. 
 
 It was done with such gentle, serious embarrassment, 
 and Luther Larkin Cradlebow was so boyish and quaint 
 looking, withal, that I felt not the slightest inclination to 
 blush, but I heard Harvey's saucy giggle. 
 
 " Gad ! " said he ; " hear the old women talk about 
 Lute's being bashful and not k icwin' how to act with 
 the girls ! Now I call them purty easy manners, eh, 
 Lovell ? What do you think, Lovell ? " 
 
 " Ahem, certainly, " responded Lovell, smiling in 
 vaj-ue sympathy with the laughing group. " / call them 
 so, certainly, / do. " 
 
 Only George Olver turned a sober, reassuring face to 
 the blushing Cradlebow. 
 
 " Give us a tune, Lutie," said he. " Lord, Pd laugh 
 if I could get the music out o' them strings that you 
 can."
 
 62 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 The Cradlebow sat down, drew his bow across the 
 Strings with a full, quivering, premonitory touch, and, 
 straightway, the fiddle began to talk to him as though 
 they two were friends alone together in the room. How 
 it played for him, the fiddle as though it were 
 morning. How it shouted, laughed, ran with him in a 
 world of sunshine and tossing blossoms ! 
 
 How it hoped for him, swelling out in grander strains, 
 wild with exultation, tremulous with passion I 
 
 How it mourned for him, with dying, sweet despair, 
 until one almost saw the night fall on the water, and the 
 lone sea-birds flying, and heard the desolate shrieking 
 of the wind along the shore. 
 
 I heard a real sob near me, and looking up saw the 
 tears rolling down Harvey's rosy cheeks. 
 
 It was in the midst of a simple melody, I think it 
 was the " Sweet By-and-By " the player stopped and 
 turned suddenly pale. 
 
 " That was a new string, too ! " he said ; " and only 
 half tight." Then he blushed violently, seeking to hide 
 the irritation of his tone under a careless laugh. 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind the string," he went on ; " that's 
 easy mended, but I happened to think it's a bad sign, 
 that's all to break down so in the middle of a tune." 
 
 " Darn the sign ! " exclaimed Harvey, " I wanted to 
 hear that played through." 
 
 " You remember Willie Reene ? " Luther turned * Js 
 eyes, still unnaturally bright with excitement, towards 
 George Olver. 
 
 " Ay, I remember," said George Olver. " I was 
 goin' mackerellin' with je myself that time, only J 
 wrinched my wrist so."
 
 11 GOOD NIGHT." 
 
 Scene from the Play.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 65 
 
 " We was out on deck together," Luther continued. " I 
 was lying down, it was a strange, warmish sort of a 
 night and Willie played. He played a long time. It 
 was just in the middle of a tune he was playin', that 
 snap ! the string went in just that way. I never thought 
 anything about it. I tried to laugh him out of it, and 
 he laughed, but says he, ' It's a bad sign, Lute.' Likely 
 it had nothin' to do with it, but I think of it sometimes, 
 and then it seems as though I must go to that same 
 place and look for him again. I never done anything 
 harder than when I left him there." 
 
 " You done the best you could," George Olver an- 
 swered stoutly. " They said you dove for him long and 
 long after it wasn't no use." 
 
 " No use," Luther repeated, shaking his head sadly 
 and abstractedly ; " no use." 
 
 " There's naught in a sign, anyway," George Olver 
 affirmed. 
 
 " They don't worry me much, you can depend " the 
 player looked up at length with a singularly bright and 
 gentle smile. " But Grannie, she believes in 'em, truly. 
 She's got a sign in a dream for everything, Grannie has,, 
 so I hear lots of it." 
 
 Harvey Dole had quite recovered by this time from 
 his tearfully sentimental mood. 
 
 " Now it's strange," he began, with an air of mysterious 
 solemnity ; " there was three nights runnin' that I 
 dreamed I found a thousand-dollar bill to the right 
 hand corner of my bury drawer, and every mornin' when 
 I woke up and went to git it it wa'n't there, so I know 
 the rats must 'a' carried it off in the night, and a pretty 
 shabby trick to play on a feller, too but then you
 
 64 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 can't blame the poor devils for wantin' a little pin- 
 money. 
 
 " Did I ever tell ye how Uncle Randal tried to clear 
 'em out 'o his barn ? Wall, he traded with Sim Peck up 
 to West Wallen, a peck o' clams for an old cat o' hisn, 
 that was about the size, Uncle Randal said, of a yearlin' 
 calf, and he turned her into the barn along o' the rats, 
 and shut the door, and the next mornin', he went out 
 and there was a few little pieces of fur flyin' around and 
 devil a devil a cat! Uncle Randal said." 
 
 "You're the D d d you're it, yourself, Har- 
 vey ! " stammered Ned Vickery. 
 
 " You'd better look out, Ned," Harvey giggled, "we're 
 all a little nearer'n second cousins down here to Wallen- 
 camp. Ned's mother didn't use to let him go to school 
 much, teacher," Harvey added, turning to me ; " it used 
 to wear him out luggin' home his ' Reward o' merit' 
 cards." 
 
 " I n-n-never got any," Ned retorted, blushing 
 desperately through his dark skin ; " n-n-nor you 
 either ! " 
 
 "I guess that's so, Harvey," said Lovell Barlow, 
 quite gravely ; " I rather think that's so, Harvey ahem, 
 I guess it is." 
 
 When my visitors rose to depart they formed in line, 
 with George Olver and Luther at the head. George 
 Olver was the spokesman of the group. He offered me 
 his strong brown hand in hearty corroboration of his 
 words : " We're a roughish sort of a set down here, 
 teacher, but whenever you want friends you'll know 
 right whar' to find us ; we mean that straight through 
 and fair an' kindly.'*
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 65 
 
 I thanked him, and then Luther gave me his hand, 
 but did not kiss me, in departing. 
 
 Each member of the phalanx gave me his hand in 
 turn, with a hearty " Good night," and so they passed 
 out. The door closed behind them. I meditated a space, 
 and when I looked up, there was Lovell Barlow's pale 
 face peering into the room. 
 
 " Ahem Miss Hungerford ! " he murmured, in 
 awful accents : " Miss Hungerford ! " 
 
 Could it be some telegram from my home thus 
 mysteriously arrived ? The thought flashed through my 
 mind before reason could act. 
 
 " What is it ? " I gasped, hastening to meet the 
 informer. 
 
 Lovell Barlow handed me a picture ; it was a small 
 daguerreotype, in which the mild and beneficent features 
 of that worthy being himself shone above his own 
 unmistakable spade-shaped whiskers. 
 
 " Would you like it, Miss Hungerford ? " said he, still 
 with the same deeply impressive air ; " would you, now, 
 really, Miss Hungerford ? would you like it, now ? " 
 
 "Why, certainly," I exclaimed, with intense relief; 
 and before I could fully appreciate the situation, 
 Lovell Barlow cast a cautious glance about him, leaned 
 his head forward, and whispered hoarsely, " I've got 
 some more, at home ahem ! I've got six, Miss Hun- 
 gerford. Mother wants to keep two and she's promised 
 Aunt Marcia one ; but you can have one any time, 
 Miss Hungerford. Ahem ! ahem ! You can, you 
 know." 
 
 " Thank you," I murmured, while it seemed as though 
 my faculties were desperately searching for light on
 
 66 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 a hitherto unsounded sea. " I think this will do for 
 the present." 
 
 Lovell nodded his head with a grave good-night and 
 disappeared. 
 
 Meanwhile, Grandma and Grandpa Keeler and 
 Madeline were absorbing this last impressive scene as 
 they slowly emerged from that unknown quarter of the 
 Ark whither they had retreated. 
 
 Grandpa looked at me with a peculiar twinkle in his 
 tye. 
 
 "So Lovell came back to give ye his picter, eh, 
 teacher ? " said he. 
 
 I returned Grandpa's look with cheerful and unoffend- 
 ed alacrity ; but Grandma interrupted, " Thar', now, 
 pa ! Thar', now ! We mustn't inquire into everything we 
 happen to get a little wind on. Ye see, teacher," she 
 continued, in tones of the broadest gentleness, "we 
 knew they'd be sorter bashful gettin' acquainted the 
 first night, and so we thought it 'ud be easier for 'em if 
 we should leave 'em to themselves, and we knew you was 
 so we knew you wouldn't care." 
 
 As Grandpa resumed his accustomed seat by the fire, 
 an expansive grin still lingered on his features. 
 
 "Ah, he's a queer fellow, that Lovell," said he ; " but 
 he's quick to larn, they say, lams like a book. I'll tell 
 ye what's the trouble with him, teacher. He's been tied 
 too long to his mother's apron-strings. He don't know 
 no more about the world than a chicken. He's thirty 
 odd now, I guess, and I reckon he ain't never been 
 further away from the beach than Sandwich te-own." 
 
 " I don't know as we'd ought to blame him," said 
 Grandma Keeler; "though to be sure, Lovell's more
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 67 
 
 quiet-natured than some that likes to be wanderin' off 
 as young folks will, generally ; but he was the only one 
 they had, and Lovell's allus been a good boy. Pa and 
 me, when we go to meetin', we most allus come across 
 him a carryin' his Sunday School book under his arm, 
 and may be," concluded Grandma Keeler, " there'll be 
 a time when we shall more on us wish that thar' wan't 
 nothin' wuss could be brought against us than being 
 innocent." 
 
 We pondered these suggestive words a few moments 
 in silence ; then Grandpa Keeler boldly interposed : 
 
 " That Lute Cradlebow he's a handsome boy, 
 teacher. Ah, he's a handsome one. They're a hand- 
 some family, them Cradlebows. 
 
 " There's the old grannie, Aunt Sibby they call her. 
 Lord, she's got a head on her like a picter ! They're 
 high-bred, too, I reckon. To begin with, why, Godfrey 
 Godfrey Cradlebow that's Lute's father, teacher; 
 he's college bred, I suppose ! He had a rich uncle thar', 
 that took a shine to him, and kind o' 'dopted him and 
 eddicated him, but Godfrey, he took a shine to a poor 
 girl thar', dreadfully handsome, she was, but yet they was 
 both o/' 'em young, and it didn't suit the old uncle, so 
 he left him to shift for himself. And Godfrey, he tried 
 one thing and another, and never held long to nothin', I 
 guess, and finally he drifted down this way, and here he 
 stuck. 
 
 " He's got a good head, Godfrey has, but he wasn't 
 never extry fond o' work, I reckon, and he's growed 
 dreadful rheumatiky lame, and he has his sprees, 
 occasionally. 
 
 " Liddy, that's his wife, teacher, she was full good
 
 68 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 enough for him when ye come to the p'int. Oh, she's a 
 smart wife, and she's had a hard row, so many children 
 and nothin' to do with, as ye might say. Why, they've 
 had thirteen children, ain't they, ma ? 
 
 " Le' me see four on 'em dead, and three on 'em 
 no ! four on 'em married, and three on 'em How is't 5 
 ma?" 
 
 Grandma then took up the tangled thread of the old 
 Captain's discourse, with calm disdain, and proceeded to 
 disclose an appalling array of statistics, not only in 
 regard to the Cradlebow family, but including generations 
 of men hitherto unknown and remote. 
 
 When I signified a desire to retire for the night, 
 Madeline informed me, with a brisk and hopeful aii, 
 that my room was " all ready now." 
 
 She led the way up a short and narrow little staircase 
 into a low garret, where, amid a dark confusion of objects, 
 I was forcibly reminded of the rows of hard substances 
 suspended from the rafters. Turning to the left, the 
 rays of the candle revealed a small red door framed in 
 among the unpainted boards of the wall. 
 
 There, Madeline bade me a flippant and musical good- 
 night, and I entered my room, alone. 
 
 Within, the contrast between the door and the brown 
 walls was still more effectively drawn. 
 
 The bed, neatly made, stood in a niche where the roof 
 slanted perceptibly downward, so that the sweetly 
 unconscious sleeper (as I found afterwards) perchance 
 tossing his head upward, in a dream, was doomed to 
 bring that member into resounding contact with the 
 ceiling. I judged something of the restless proclivities 
 of the last occupants of the room by the amount of
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 6g 
 
 plastering of which this particular section had been 
 deprived. In this, and in other places where it had 
 fallen, it had been collected and tacked up again to the 
 ceiling in cloth bags which presented a graceful and 
 drooping, though at first sight, rather enigmatical 
 appearance. 
 
 The chimney ran through the room forming a sort of 
 unique centre-piece. 
 
 This and more I accepted, wearily, and then sank 
 down by the bed and cried. Outside, before the one 
 small window, stood a peach tree. Afterward, when 
 this had grown to be a very dear little room to me, I 
 looked out cheerfully through its branches, warm with 
 sunshine, and fragrant with bloom ; but now it was bare 
 and ghostly, and, as the wind blew, one forlorn twig 
 trailed back and forth across the window. 
 
 For an hour or more after my head touched the pillow, 
 I lay awake listening to the unaccustomed sound of the 
 surf and those skeleton fingers tapping at the pane.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE TURKEY MOGUL ARRIVES. 
 
 STUDIED Becky Weir in school, the next 
 day, with special interest. She was a girl of 
 seventeen or eighteen, with the stately, sub- 
 stantial presence of one of nature's own goddesses. 
 She had a fresh, constant color in her cheeks, a pure, 
 low forehead, and eyes that were clear, gray, and large, 
 but with a strangely appealing, helplessly animal 
 expression in them, I fancied, as she lifted them, oft- 
 times, to mine. She was distinguished among my young 
 disciples by the faithful, though evidently labored arid 
 wearisome attention, she gave to her books. 
 
 Her glance, bent on some small wretch who was mis- 
 behaving, had a peculiarly significant force. The little 
 ones all seemed to love her and to stand rather in awe 
 of her, too. 
 
 Entering the school-room in the morning, she discov- 
 ered a network of strings, which one Lemuel Biddy had 
 artfully laid between the desks, intending thereby to 
 waylay and prostrate his human victim, and stooping 
 down, she boxed the miscreant, not cruelly but effectively* 
 on the ears. I was surprised to see that the boy seemed 
 to regard this infliction as the simple and natural award 
 of justice, bowed his head and wept penitently, and was 
 subdued for some time afterward.
 
 CAPF COD FOLKS. 71 
 
 To me, whose earliest years had been guided and 
 illuminated on the principle that reason and persuasion 
 alone are to be used in the training of the tender twig, 
 this little occurrence afforded food for serious wonder 
 and reflection. I doubted if the logic of the sages or 
 the wooing of the celestial seraphim would have wrought 
 with such convincing power on the mind and ears of 
 Lemuel Biddy. 
 
 If Rebecca perchance, after painfully protracted 
 exertions, succeeded in working out some simple prob- 
 lem in arithmetic, her slate containing the solution was 
 freely handed about among her unaspiring comrades ; 
 so that I judged her to be " weakly generous " as well 
 as " plodding," qualities not of a high order, I 
 esteemed, yet by no means insuperable barriers to 
 friendship when found to enter more or less largely into 
 the composition of one's friends. 
 
 There was something in my novel relation to the girl 
 as her teacher peculiarly fascinating to me. At recess 
 she remained in her seat and kept quietly at her work. 
 
 I went down and stood over her. " Can I help you, 
 my dear ? " I said. 
 
 Whatever might have been the pedantic or obtrusively 
 condescending quality of those words, Rebecca seemed 
 to find nothing distasteful in them. She looked up with 
 a " Thank you," and a pleased, trustful face like a child's. 
 " I can't do this one," said she. " I've finished the rest, 
 but this wouldn't come right, somehow." 
 
 It was a sum in simple addition. I could not help 
 a feeling of deep surprise and commiseration that one 
 of Rebecca's age should have stumbled at it at all, but I 
 essayed to examine it very closely and worked it out
 
 72 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 for her as slowly as possible. " Do you see your mis- 
 take ? " I said. 
 
 She blushed painfully. The tears almost stood in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Yes, and I knew you'd have to find out how dull I 
 was," she said ; " but I dreaded it. When Miss Waite 
 was here, mother was sick and I didn't go to school at 
 all, and Miss Waite took me for a friend ; and I told 
 mother I'd most rather not go to school to you, for Miss 
 Waite said you'd be a real friend, and I knew you wouldn't 
 want me when you found how dull I was." 
 
 I looked at the girl, and a bright, hesitating smile 
 woke in her face. 
 
 " Do you know, Rebecca," I said, " I don't choose 
 my friends for their mental qualifications for what 
 they know ; I select them just as people do horses 
 by their teeth. Let me see yours." 
 
 Rebecca laughed most musically, thus disclosing 
 two brilliant rows of ivories. I had noticed them 
 before. 
 
 "You'll do!" I exclaimed, lightly. "I take you 
 into my heart of hearts. Now, what is your standard of 
 choice? What charming characteristic do you first 
 require in a friend, Rebecca ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " said she, gasping a little and speaking very 
 slowly ; "I don't know. I don't think IVe 
 got any." 
 
 " Don't be afraid lest you shall guess something that 
 I have not, my dear," I said ; " You can hardly go 
 astray. Begin with modesty, if you please, truly the 
 chief of virtues." 
 
 Rebecca caught quickly the meaning in my tone, and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 73 
 
 answered with a low ripple of laughter. When I urged 
 her, she grew gravely embarrassed. 
 
 " Well," said she ; " I don't think I should want any- 
 body that I thought I couldn't ever help them any, you 
 know. That wouldn't ever need me, I mean, and I 
 know," she went on more hastily ; " it seems funny to 
 say that to you, because it seems as though there wasn't 
 anything that I could ever do for you because you 
 you seem not to need anybody but I didn't know 
 but some time there might be something I thought 
 maybe some time." 
 
 Rebecca paused and looked up at me with that pitifully 
 beseeching expression in her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, yes," I answered, still carelessly ; " no doubt I 
 shall be a great burden to you in time. But you do help 
 me now, dear, by your conduct in school. You helped 
 me this morning when you boxed Lemuel Biddy's ears. 
 I shall have to take boxing lessons of you." 
 
 " You be the scholar," Rebecca answered quickly, 
 her lips parting again with a merry outburst of laughter. 
 
 " Wretch ! " said I, well pleased but affecting a tone 
 of deep severity ; " you must not be saucy to your 
 teacher ! I shall keep you in the rest of your recess for 
 that. 
 
 " Do you like to study, Rebecca ? " I added pres- 
 ently. 
 
 " No-o," said she, much abashed at the admission, 
 and yet evidently incapable of speaking otherwise than 
 according to the simple dictates of her conscience. " I 
 don't think I should care anything about it if it didn't 
 make you so dull not to. I mean," she continued ; 
 " perhaps I might 'a' liked it if I'd been to school right
 
 74 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 along, but we never did. And I was to the mills up to 
 Taunton. I didn't stay long there. Then mother was 
 sick. They don't any of the scholars be let to go very 
 regular. Sometimes they're wanted to work out. So they 
 forget. So they don't care much, I think. They get to 
 dreading it. I wanted to tell you so you wouldn't think 
 it so much blame our bein' so backward." 
 
 " It is the faithful improvement of what opportunities 
 we have, Rebecca," I began and then paused, somewhat 
 confused by the throng of lively reminiscences which 
 suddenly crowded my mental horoscope. "You are 
 young yet, my dear," I concluded gravely, with a 
 resigned sigh for my own departed youth ; " you can 
 make up for lost time. It is pleasant to give, but there 
 may be circumstances in which it is our duty imperatively 
 to receive. You must let me do all I can for you this 
 winter. I do want you for a friend, but I would rather 
 it should be on these plainly implied conditions." 
 
 Rebecca had been studying my face, thoughtfully, with 
 a still expression of wonder. 
 
 " I'll try to learn," said she, slowly. " I'll do anything 
 you want me to." 
 
 " Do you like to read ? " I inquired, in a brighter 
 tone. 
 
 " Stories ? " said Rebecca, a sparkle waking in hei 
 eyes. 
 
 " Stories mixed with other things," I insisted, gently ; 
 and was then compelled to wonder how many of those 
 " other things " had found their way into the literary 
 appointment of my trunk. 
 
 " I'll try," said Rebecca. 
 
 " Come to the Ark, after school, and look over the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 75 
 
 books I have. We will talk some more about it, and 
 you shall select as you please, or I will select for you, if 
 you desire," I said, looking at Rebecca with kindly 
 though severe penetration. 
 
 " I'd rather you would," said Rebecca, obediently. 
 
 To inflict this particular sort of patronage was a 
 delightfully new experience for me. The glaring incon- 
 sistencies which confronted me at every turn only gave a 
 heightened zest to the pursuit. 
 
 When I went to the door to blow the horn I felt that 
 Rebecca already regarded me as her patron, guide, and 
 spiritual mentor, and I was seriously resolved to fill 
 these positions hopefully for her and with credit to 
 myself. With respect to the rest of my flock, I felt a 
 different sort of interest the wide-awake concern of 
 one who finds himself suddenly perched on the back of 
 a mettlesome, untried steed. 
 
 Any one member of that benighted corps, taken as the 
 subject of pruning and cultivating effort, would have 
 occupied, I believed, the faithful labors of a lifetime. 
 Considered as a gloriously rampant mass, the aspect of 
 the field was appalling. 
 
 I was especially impressed with this view of the case 
 when I went to toot them in from those free and reckless 
 diversions in which their souls expanded and their bodies 
 became as the winged creatures of the earth. 
 
 The horn was still an object of terror to me, though 
 experience had made me wise enough to institute, on all 
 occasions, a careful preliminary search for buttons. 
 
 Its blast, freighted with baleful meaning to the ears 
 of sportive innocence, found a melancholy echo among 
 the deeper woes of my own heart, and, if it chanced to
 
 76 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 be one of Aunt Lobelia's singing days, the " Dar' to b 
 a Dan-yell ! Dar' to be a Dan-yell ! " which floated 
 across the lane, had but a doubtfully inspiriting effect. 
 
 I felt, indeed, like a Daniel doomed to convocate my 
 own lions, and lacking that faith in a preserving 
 Providence which is believed to have cheered and 
 elevated the spirit of the ancient prophet, I confidently 
 expected, on the whole, to be devoured. 
 
 Gathered into their den, my lively herd gasped some 
 moments as though suffering the last loud agony of 
 expiring breath, and then, bethinking them of that only 
 one of their free and native elements now obtainable, 
 they sent up a universal cry for " water ! " 
 
 Ah ! what to do with them through the long hours of 
 the day beautiful creatures ! by no means unlovable, 
 with their bright, clear eyes, their restless, restless feet, 
 their overflowing spirits ; their bodies all alive, but with 
 minds unfitted by birth, unskilled by domestic discipline, 
 to any sort of earnest and prolonged effort. ' Long, 
 weary hours, therefore, not of furnishing instruction to 
 the hungry and inquiring mind ah, no ! but of a 
 desperately sustained struggle in which, with every 
 faculty on the alert to discover the truest expedients, 
 with every nerve strained to the utmost, I strove for the 
 mastery over this antic, untamed animal, until I could 
 throw the reins loose at night, and drop my head down 
 on my desk in the deserted school-room, tired, tired, 
 tired ! 
 
 The parents of the children " dropped in " often at 
 the Ark, and savored the lively and varied flow of their 
 discourse with choice dissertations on methods of di 
 cipline.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 77 
 
 u I want my children whipped," said Mr. Randall 
 Alden. " That's what they need. They git enough of 
 it at home. It won't skeer 'em any and I tell the 
 folks if they'd all talk like that, they wouldn't be no 
 trouble in the school." 
 
 " Ye can't drive Milton P.," said that hopeful's mother. 
 " He's been drove so much that he don't take no notice 
 of it. If coaxing won't fetch him, nothin' won't ; and I 
 tell 'em if they was all like that they wouldn't be no 
 trouble in the school." 
 
 " Well," said Emily Gaskell, the matron of the painted 
 house, a tall, angular woman, with the hectic of the 
 orthodox Yankee consumption on her cheeks, and the 
 orthodox Yankee twinkle in her eye ; " ye can manage 
 my boys whatever way ye please, teacher. I ain't per- 
 tickeler. They've been coaxed and they've been whipped, 
 but they've always made out to mind by doin' pretty 
 much as they was a mind to. They're smart boys, too," 
 she added, with sincere pride ; " but they don't take to 
 larnin'. I never see sich boys. Ye can't git no larnin' 
 into 'em no way. They'd rather be whipped than go to 
 school. Sim had a man to work on our cranberry bog, 
 and he found out that he was first-rate in 'rithmetic, this 
 man was, and so Sim, says he, ' I'll give ye the same ye 
 git on the bog,' says he, ' to stay up to the house and 
 larn my boys 'rithmetic,' says he ; and the man, he tried 
 it, and in the course of a day or two, he come around to 
 Sim, and wanted to know if he couldn't go back to clarin' 
 bog again." 
 
 Emily took in the broadly contemplative expression 
 on Grandma Keeler's benign features, and then winked 
 at me facetiously : " I tell 'em if they was all like that,"
 
 78 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 said she ; " and I guess they be, pretty much, they might 
 as well be out o' doors as in, and less worryin' to the 
 teacher." 
 
 It might have been the third day of my labors in 
 Wallencamp that a man, having the appearance of a 
 lame giant, entered the school-room, and advanced to 
 meet me with an imposing dignity of mien. He held 
 captive, with one powerful hand, a stubbornly speechless, 
 violently struggling boy. I recognized the man as God- 
 frey Cradlebow, the handsome fiddler's father, and the 
 boy was none other than the imp whose eyes, scorching 
 and defiant now, had first sent mocking glances back at 
 me while their light-limbed owner kicked out a jaunty 
 rigadoon from under the encircling folds of his sacerdo- 
 tal vestments. 
 
 "Miss Hungerford, I beg your pardon," said the 
 elder Cradlebow, with a distinct, refined enunciation 
 foreign to the native element of Wallencamp, whose or- 
 dinary locution had something of a Hoosier accent. 
 " After a good deal of trouble in catching him, I have 
 finally succeeded in bringing you in this a this 
 little dev " he made an impressive pause, patted his 
 fiery offspring on the head with fatherly dignity, and 
 eyed him, at once doubtfully and reflectively. 
 
 I was interested in observing the aspect of the two 
 faces. 
 
 " The little boy resembles you, I think," I said. 
 
 The lame man struck his cane down hard upon the 
 floor and laughed immoderately. 
 
 " If you knew what I had in my mind to say ! " he 
 exclaimed " ah ! that was well put, well put ! 
 though but dubiously complimentary, but dubiously so, 
 I assure you, either to father or son 1 "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 79 
 
 The idea still continuing to tickle him, he laughed 
 more gently, beating a sympathetic tattoo with his cane 
 on the floor. 
 
 " To pursue directly the cause of my intrusion here," 
 
 he went on, at length, " this little well, for present 
 
 purposes, we will call him the Phenomenon. I confess 
 it is a name to which he is not totally unused. This 
 little phenomenon, whom you see before you, is the 
 youngest but one in a flock of thirteen. Some of that 
 beautiful band "here Mr. Cradlebow raised a very 
 shaky hand for an instant to his eyes, and although a 
 fitting occasion for sentiment, I was compelled to think 
 of what Grandpa Keeler had said about Godfrey Cra- 
 dlebow's " sprees " " some of that beautiful band 
 rest in the graveyard, yonder. Some of them already 
 know what it is themselves to be parents. Some of 
 them still linger in the poor old home nest. I see you 
 have here, my Alvin, and my Wallace, and my youngest, 
 the infant Sophronia. Well, you find them good chit 
 dren, I dare say. Ah ! they have an estimable mother." 
 Again, he lifted his hand to his eyes. " Mischievous 
 enough, you find them, probably, but amenable 
 there it is, amenable but this lad " Mr. Cradlebow 
 paused again, shaking his head with a meaning to which 
 he gravely declined further expression. 
 
 " What is your name ? " I inquired of the little boy, 
 hopefully. 
 
 " Simmy B.," he answered revengefully in a tone of 
 alarming hoarseness. 
 
 " Such colds as that boy has ! " exclaimed the patei* 
 nal Cradlebow. " They're like all the rest of him 
 they're phenomenal. There are times when that boy
 
 80 CAPE COD FOLK**. 
 
 appears to be nothing but one frightful, perambulating 
 cold ! Well," he sighed, " and yet it's a strange fact, 
 that the more depraved and miserable a little devil is, 
 the more his mother '11 coddle him. 
 
 " Now there's this one and my Lute Luther Lar- 
 kin a good boy, but lacking all capacity for rest 
 always lacking the capacity for rest uneasy, both of 
 them always uneasy ! but how the mother would give 
 her own rest for them, and seem to love them the better 
 for it ! strange ! They have always been her idols, too. 
 Well, I have captured Simeon and brought him in. I 
 hope you may keep him. The rest you must learn for 
 yourself. The Lord help me ! " he groaned, as he 
 picked up his cane, with evident physical pain, and 
 hobbled out of the room. 
 
 Within the school-room, things resumed their custom- 
 ary, Niagara-like roar, until a lamentable voice rose 
 above the others, and was straightway followed by an- 
 other voice in indignant explanation. 
 
 " Teacher, can't Simmy B. stop ? He's puttin' beans 
 down Amber G.'s neck ! " 
 
 " Simeon ! " I exclaimed, in accents calculated to 
 melt that youthful heart of stone, and then added ; " I 
 will speak with you a few moments alone, at recess." 
 
 Simeon looked no longer helplessly angry as when 
 his father brought him in. He appeared, on the whole, 
 well pleased, but I scanned his angelic features in vain 
 for any trace of repentance. 
 
 There followed a few moments of comparative quiet. 
 Then came a startling, sickening sound as of some one 
 undergoing the tortures of strangulation. Then, a long, 
 convulsive gasp. I looked down upon a sea of round 
 eyes and uplifted hands.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. , Si 
 
 " Teacher, Simmy's swallered~a slate-pencil! Sim 
 my's swallered a slate-pencil ! " 
 
 " He's swallered most a whole^one ! " cried the 
 owner of one pair of protruding orbs. 
 
 " It wa'n't ! " retorted Simeon, flaming with righteous 
 indignation " It wa'n't but harf a one ! " 
 
 " He t-t-told me," cried a young scion of the stam- 
 mering Vickery race, all breathless with excitement, 
 " that he was going to p-p-put it into his m-m-mouth 
 and t-t-take it out of his n-n-nose, and he did and 
 it t-t-t and it slip-p-ped ! " 
 
 "Wall, jest you keep your eyes peeled and your ears 
 cocked," replied the sturdy Simeon, in hoarse and jar- 
 ring accents ; " and see if I don't take it out of my nose, 
 yet." 
 
 The signs of that painful struggle slowly faded out 
 of Simeon's face and there was an unusual calm in the 
 school-room. 
 
 Perhaps a quarter of an hour elapsed. I was thought- 
 fully engaged in hearing one of my classes when startled 
 by the sound of a window closed with a sharp bang. 
 At the same time arose the universal voice : 
 
 "Simmy B.'s got out o' the winder! Simmy B.'s got 
 out o' the winder ! " 
 
 I looked out across the snowless fields, and there 
 having already scaled two fences and put many a good 
 rod between himself and the scene of his brief imprison- 
 ment, I beheld, borne as on the wings of the wind, the 
 form of the retreating Simeon. 
 
 An incident at the close of my irst week in Wallen- 
 camp was the visit of the " Turkey Mogul." Such was 
 the name given by the Wallencampers to Mr. Baxter, 
 the superintendent of schools.
 
 82 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Mr. Baxter lived many miles away in Farmouth, and 
 was, properly, the visitor of the schools in Farmouth 
 County. Wallencamp was not in Farmouth County. 
 Nevertheless, Mr. Baxter had charge of the Wallencamp 
 school. I had been informed that he drove over at the 
 beginning and close of each term, put the scholar? 
 through the most " dreadful examins," and gave an in- 
 discriminate " blowin' up" to persons and things in the 
 place. So I looked forward to his coming with a curi- 
 osity not unmingled with more doubtful emotions. 
 
 It was Friday, and so near the close of the afternoon 
 session that I had quite dismissed from my mind the 
 contemplation of any dread advent for that day. It was 
 just at that trying hour of Friday afternoon when only 
 the spelling-classes remained to be heard, and teacher 
 and scholars both were conscious, the one with a deep 
 inward sense of relief, the others with many restless 
 demonstrations of impatience, that the week was near 
 its close ; and that " to-morrow" would be Saturday and 
 a holiday. 
 
 Estella the raven-haired familiarly known as the 
 " Modoc," a long and ungainly creature, with arms and 
 legs so seemingly profuse and unmanageable, that they 
 reminded one of the tentacles of a cuttle-fish Estella 
 was "passing around the water." 
 
 She was performing this accustomed office with a 
 grin of such supreme delight and satisfaction as seemed 
 actually to illuminate the back of her head, when the 
 door of the school-room opened, and there, without any 
 previous warning, ap oeared a grim, fierce-looking little 
 man, whom I knew it once to be the " Turkey Mogul." 
 
 The extreme exigency of the case inspired me with
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. J 3 
 
 a certain calmness of despair. Having advanced to 
 meet this august personage, conducted him to the desk, 
 and placed for him the official chair, which he shortly 
 refused, I lifted my eyes, " prepared for any fate," to 
 observe what might be the condition of my turbulent 
 flock, and lo all the tops, and Jews-harps, and apples, 
 and whirligigs, and miniature buzz-saws had disap- 
 peared, and there was an array of pallid faces bent over 
 another array of books many of the latter were upside 
 down, but the effect was unbroken. Even Estella, 
 moved by some sudden divine sense of the fitness of 
 things, had ceased her desultory wanderings about the 
 room with the tin dipper, and, not having had time to 
 procure a book, was working out imaginary problems 
 on her fingers with the air of a Herschel, and I be- 
 came slowly conscious that there was such a stillness in 
 that room as had not been no, nor anything like unto 
 it, since the first time I entered there. 
 
 I think Mr. Baxter must have observed something of 
 the look of helpless astonishment which transfixed my 
 features. I certainly saw the shadow of a smile lurking 
 in his steel-gray eyes. 
 
 " Yes," he snarled, addressing the school ; " yes, if 
 I didn't know you, now, and if your books were not, 
 most of 'em, bottom side up, and if I shouldn't be com- 
 pelled in two minutes to prove the contrary, I might 
 possibly imagine that you were studying yes 
 humph ! " 
 
 I said to Mr. Baxter, as cheerfully as possible, that 
 "we were nearly through with our usual routine of 
 classes for the day, but I should be happy, of course, to 
 repeat any of the recitations which he might care to 
 hear."
 
 84 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 41 Would you ? " said he, looking at me not unpleas 
 antly. " Do you really ask me to believe that ? um-m-m," 
 he murmured, resuming his stern aspect. "Let me 
 see Geography yes, Miss Hungerford, you may call 
 the first class in Geography." 
 
 I did not accuse the Superintendent of Schools of 
 malevolent intentions, but I could honestly have af- 
 firmed that of all the divisions and subdivisions of my 
 empire the first class in Geography was the one least 
 calculated to shine on an occasion like the present. 
 
 I groaned inwardly, and called them forth. Their 
 forlorn and wilted appearance as they formed in line 
 went to my heart. I was resolved to defend them at 
 whatever cost. 
 
 "Now," said Mr. Baxter, planting himself firmly, 
 with his legs rather far apart, thrusting his hands in 
 his pockets, and staring steadily at the shivering group 
 from under his awful brows ; " what is Geography ? to 
 begin with. That's the first thing. What is Geog- 
 raphy ? " 
 
 For a moment there was no reply. I almost began 
 to hope that there would be none. I felt that here 
 " Silence was golden," and if maintained, all might be 
 comparatively well ; when, to my dismay, there was a 
 sort of flank movement in the ranks and the ill-starred 
 Estella raised her hand. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Baxter, pointing his finger stead- 
 fastly at her as if to impart a vein of concentration to 
 her palpably loose and floating appearance ; " You ! you 
 ought to know. What is Geography, eh ? " 
 
 Some fair wreck of an idea, formerly appropriated in 
 this connection, floated through the brain of the " Mo-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 85 
 
 doc" She opened her mouth and in those loud and 
 startling accents, for which she was ever distinguished, 
 gave utterance to these memorable words : 
 
 A round! like a ball ! " 
 
 Mr. Baxter glared fiercely at her for a moment, and 
 then permitted his scorn to escape in a long, sarcastic 
 hiss. 
 
 "Yes-s-s," said he; "yes-s-s! around like a ball! 
 Do you find it much in your way, eh ? Do you often 
 give it such a kick as that, eh ? Well, take your seats ! 
 take your seats ! " 
 
 The Superintendent of Schools seemed disinclined 
 to evoke any further catastrophes of this sort, but pro- 
 ceeded to discourse to me, aside, in a confidential 
 growl, on the peculiar and erratic natures of the be- 
 nighted Wallencampers. 
 
 " Their minds," he said, with a grim smile, " have no 
 receptivity. They must originate, or they are naught. 
 Parents and children they are all the same. I am 
 convinced that there is no scholarship to be established 
 here. It has been tried and the attempt has failed a 
 hundred times. It's .iot in the nature of things. Get 
 on the good side of them, that's all. That has failed 
 sometimes, but it is not among the impossible things. 
 Get on the good side of them." 
 
 Finally, he turned to address the children. The 
 "examins" had certainly not been severe, but the 
 " blowin' up " was faithfully and liberally performed. 
 
 Never before had I felt so drawn to my poor, wonder- 
 ing, wolf-besieged flock, and in proportion to my tender- 
 ness for them waxed my indignation toward the " Tur- 
 key Mogul."
 
 86 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 "You can't learn," said he. "That's a sufficiently 
 established fact, but if you don't behave, your teacher is 
 going to write to me, mind ! and I shall come down here 
 in my buggy, and take you right up and off to Farmouth 
 where we have a place to keep all such naughty boys 
 and girls." 
 
 This last was evoked as a benediction. Mr. Baxte* 
 looked at his watch, and remarked that it was a long 
 drive to Farmouth, and he must be going. " Dismiss 
 your school, Miss Hungerford," he said. 
 
 Now the children were accustomed it was a special 
 privilege they had requested to sing, before the school 
 closed at night, one of the hymns with which they were 
 all so familiar in Wallencamp. 
 
 I would have dismissed them, on this occasion, with- 
 out further ceremony, but before I had time to tap my 
 ruler on the desk as a signal for dismissal, they all 
 struck up as with one voice : 
 
 " What a friend we have in Jesus, 
 
 All our griefs and woes to share I 
 What a privilege to carry 
 Everything to God in prayer." 
 
 At first I was a little amused at the incongruity of the 
 thing. Then it began to seem to me inexpressibly 
 touching. 
 
 The Superintendent of Schools stood with a cold, 
 supercilious grin on his face, a stern, self-sufficient man, 
 not one likely to echo the spirit of these simple words. 
 
 I stood beside him, weary and perplexed enough, but 
 ever taking counsel of the pride of my own heart. And 
 those poor children, with their hard, toilsome, barren 
 lives before them, how they sang ! the;* ^lear, young
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 8/ 
 
 voices ringing out fearlessly, carelessly they knew the 
 words. I wondered if any one in the room appreciated 
 the song as having inner truth and meaning. 
 
 As I was locking my desk, before leaving the room, I 
 discovered this little note, which Rebecca had dropped 
 in it. 
 
 " dere teecher, 
 
 " I wanted to do sumthyng to help yu wen 1 
 seen him come in To Day fur I new jus howe yu felt 
 but thay wasent no wours than thay always was, and he 
 nose it ! and thaystuddid more furyu I think than thay 
 did for any but I think it mus be harrd for yu not bein' 
 use to us. I think yu was tired. When we was singin' 
 I thot howe tired yu was, but thar' was always won to 
 help. Excus writin' pleas but I wanted to let yu no for 
 yu was good to me and I luv yu. Becky Weir." 
 
 Somehow, the little note rested and comforted me, 
 more than I would have imagined, a week before, any 
 expression of this humble disciple of mine could have 
 done. 
 
 I held the letter crumpled in my hand going up the 
 lane. Going up the lane, too, I met Emily's fisherman 
 coming gayly home from the river. 
 
 Mr. Rollin stopped, and gallantly requested the pleas- 
 ure of carrying a small book which I held in my hand. 
 He walked back to the Ark with me, talking very 
 duently the while. 
 
 " Do you know," he began ; " I think I'm awfully 
 fortunate meeting you here in the lane. I've been 
 wishing for an opportunity to speak with you for two or 
 three days past, but the Ark is such a popular resort for
 
 88 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 the youth of Wallencamp, and the children seem to be 
 always following you. Well, they regard the school 
 teacher as their special property, and would consider 
 me worse than an intruder if I should go in to take even 
 the lowest seat in the synagogue. I've been wanting to 
 speak with you ever since that first night when I 
 stared at you so stupidly at Captain Keeler's when I 
 went up to borrow the oars, and you were engaged, you 
 remember," said Mr. Rollin, laughing gently, " in wrest- 
 ing particles of hulled corn from the ocean depths of 
 that kettle." 
 
 " I remember," I said, trying to smother what annoy- 
 ance I still felt at the recollection. " I admit that it 
 was a very striking scene. It was very good," I added, 
 religiously, referring to the corn. Mr. Rollin ought to 
 know, I thought, that I had come to Wallencamp on a 
 mission, and that if he wished to scoff at the ways of its 
 defenceless inhabitants, he shouldn't look to find a con- 
 fidante in me. 
 
 " The hulled corn ? Oh ! yes, indeed ! " he answered 
 with a sprightly air. " We have it served in the same 
 way at Emily's, and we think it's just a rich, you 
 know. But I wanted to tell you. If you could have 
 known how confoundedly struck up I was when I went 
 into the Ark that night, you wouldn't think it so strange 
 my standing staring there like a fool. You see we fel- 
 lows, picking up everything of interest down here to 
 amuse ourselves with, heard that there was a new school- 
 teacher coming, so -we gave our imaginations free rein. 
 We were laughing it over among ourselves, and Smith 
 said, ' she'd probably have hair like Rollin's,' and Jake 
 said * she'd wear spectacles, and have a nose like the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 89 
 
 Clipper in the Three Fates? and all that sort of thing. 
 So I went up that night to see, just for the deuce of it, 
 and not to get the oars at all, and I was deucedly well 
 paid for it, too. In fact, Miss Hungerford," said the 
 fisherman, darting a keen glance at me from his laughing 
 eyes, " I did go up to scoff, but I remained to pray." 
 
 My ears had never been conscientiously closed to the 
 voice of idle praise, but with this, for some reason, I was 
 not well pleased. 
 
 "Your attitude was certainly devotional," I answered, 
 without haste. "Your friend," I added, "must be 
 something of a seer. Here are the literal glasses ! " 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Mr. Rollin, coloring slightly; 
 " you know I didn't mean that just being a little near- 
 sighted. I said spectacles. Besides," and the fisher- 
 man looked me full and unblushingly in the face " if I 
 had such eyes as yours, by Jove, I wouldn't mind whether 
 I could see anything out of 'em or not ! " 
 
 "You will hardly expect me to thank you for that," 
 I murmured, with a sincere flash of indignation ; not 
 that I was unmindful of certain reckless moods of old, 
 when I had found it not impossible to listen, even with 
 calmness, to vain demonstrations of this sort, but I felt 
 that I was a different person now, in a different sphere 
 of action. 
 
 Mr. Rollin knew nothing of me except that I was the 
 teacher of the Wallencamp school a doubtful position 
 to his mind. 
 
 He fancied that he might " pick me up," to " amuse " 
 himself with, I thought, and at the reflection I felt ao 
 angry glow rising from heart to cheek. 
 
 Meanwhile the fisherman gnawed his moustache
 
 go CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 fully. This idle worldling could assume, occasionally, 
 a whimsical helplessness of expression, with an air of 
 aggrieved and childlike candor, somewhat baffling to the 
 stern designs of justice. 
 
 " Now I've offended you," he began, exchanging his 
 tone of easy nonchalance for one of slow and awkward 
 dejection. " And you think I've had the impudence 
 well, if either one of us two is going to be taken in, Miss 
 Hungerford, I can tell you it's a blamed sight more likely 
 to be me ; but you're prejudiced against me, I can see. 
 You were prejudiced against me that first night. I know 
 how those old women talk. They've got an idea, some- 
 how, that I'm a scapegrace, and a desperate character. 
 And, on my word, Miss Hungerford, I'm considered 
 a real model chap there at home, and make speeches to 
 the little boys and girls in Sunday School, and all that 
 sort of thing. On my word, I do." 
 
 Mr. Rollin spoke quite warmly. I could not help 
 laughing at his droll self-vindication. 
 
 " I should like to ask you to speak to my little boys 
 and girls ! " I said ; " but it's too harrowing to the feel- 
 ings. I listened to one address this afternoon." 
 
 " The ' Turkey Mogul ? ' Oh, that isn't my style ! " 
 said Mr. Rollin. " I don't sear their young vision with 
 the prospect of eternal flames. I entice them with the 
 blandishments of future reward. Let me go in some 
 day, and I promise you in one brief half hour to destroy 
 the cankering effect of all that the ' Turkey Mogul ' has 
 ever said. At least, I shall serve as an antidote a 
 cheerful and allaying antidote to the wormwood of cen- 
 sorious criticism." 
 
 Thus the voluble fisherman ran on, with an air of sim-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 91 
 
 pie and charming ingenuousness ; while I reflected that 
 here possibly was a light and aimless creature whom 
 I had mentally convicted of ungracious designs, that, 
 although his presence in Wallencamp, as a representative 
 of the great world I believed I had left behind me, was 
 rather mal d, propos, it might be that I ought to consider 
 him providentially included in my field of labor, and as 
 one of the objects of my regenerating care. 
 
 Whether Mr. Rollin detected anything of this philan- 
 thropic intention I do not know. When we got to the 
 gate he said : 
 
 " Will you go with me for a drive to-morrow, Miss 
 Hungerford ? You know what the Wallencamp equipages 
 are. They furnish entertainment, at all events. The 
 drive to West Wallen is really beautiful even at this 
 season of the year, with such uncommonly fine weather, 
 and you have a holiday, and the mail hasn't been brought 
 from West Wallen for nearly a week." 
 
 I thanked the fisherman almost eagerly, thinking, 
 at that instant, of the longed-for letters that I knew were 
 waiting for me in the West Wallen Post Office. 
 
 Then, suddenly, I felt Rebecca's little note grow heavy 
 in my hand. 
 
 To act voluntarily for others to consider as serious 
 any obstacles in the way of following out my personal 
 inclinations these were experiences too new to me, 
 and my resolve was not a natural one, but forced and 
 impatient. 
 
 " You are very kind," I said ; " but I can't go 
 to-morrow." 
 
 The two little Keelers came running out of the Ark to 
 meet me. I was secretly relieved. Mr. Rollin had been
 
 pe CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 watching me narrowly ; his lips curled, and his eye* 
 flashed with a half angry, half scornful light He cast 
 an unloving glance at the little Keelers. 
 
 " I can't, of course, question the justice of your 
 decision," he said shortly, and touched his hat and 
 walked away without another word. 
 
 I considered this as one of the least among my many 
 trials and perplexities. Oftentimes I sighed for the 
 light-hearted, " irresponsible " days of yore, when " mis- 
 sions " were, as yet, to me unknown. 
 
 School was the greatest perplexity. Grandma Keeler* 
 tenderness grew more impressive each day. 
 
 " It seems to me you're a growin' bleak and holleiv 
 eyed, teacher," she would say to me when I came home 
 at night. 
 
 So I indulged more and more in a deeply sentimental 
 self-pity, and felt a growing satisfaction in the conscious- 
 ness that I was enduring martyrdom. It was more by 
 reason of a stubborn and desperate pride, I think, than 
 from higher motives, that, in my letters home, I said 
 nothing of the discomforts and discouragements 
 which attended my course. I chose to dilate on tke 
 beautiful scenery of Wallencamp, and the quaint origi- 
 nality of its inhabitants.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 93 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GRANDMA KEELER GETS GRANDPA READY FOR SUNDAY 
 SCHOOL. 
 
 UNDAY morning nothing arose in Wallen- 
 camp save the sun. 
 
 At least, that celestial orb had long forgotten 
 all the roseate flaming of his youth, in an honest, straight- 
 forward march through the heavens, ere the first s ; gns 
 of smoke came curling lazily up from the Wallencamp 
 chimneys. 
 
 I had retired at night, very weary, with the delicious 
 consciousness that it wouldn't make any difference when 
 I woke up the next morning, or whether, indeed. I woke at 
 all. So I opened my eyes leisurely and lay half-dream- 
 ing, half-meditating on a variety of things. 
 
 I deciphered a few of the texts on the scriptural patch- 
 work quilt which covered my couch. There were 
 " Let not your heart be troubled," " Remember Lot's 
 wife," and " Philander Keeler," traced in inky hiero- 
 glyphics, all in close conjunction. 
 
 Finally, I reached out for my watch, and, having 
 ascertained the time of day, I got up and proceeded to 
 dress hastily enough, wondering to hear no signs of life 
 in the house. 
 
 I went noiselessly down the stairs. All was silent 
 below, except for the peaceful snoring of Mrs. Philander
 
 94 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 and the little Keelers, which was responded to from 
 some remote western corner of the Ark by the triumph- 
 ant snores of Grandma and Grandpa Keeler. 
 
 I attempted to kindle a fire in the stove, but it sizzled 
 a little while, spitefully, as much as to say, " What, Sun- 
 day morning ? Not I ! " and went out. So I concluded 
 to put on some wraps and go out and warm myself in 
 the sun. 
 
 I climbed the long hill back of the Ark, descended, 
 and walked along the bank of the river. It was a beau- 
 tiful morning. The air was everything that could be 
 desired in the way of air, but I felt a desperate need of 
 something more substantial. 
 
 Standing alone with nature, on the bank of the lovely 
 river, I thought, with tears in my eyes, of the delicious 
 breakfast already recuperating the exhausted energies 
 of my far-away home friends. 
 
 When I got back to the house, Mrs. Philander, in 
 simple and unaffected attire, was bustling busily about 
 the stove. 
 
 The snores from Grandma and Grandpa's quarter 
 had ceased, signifying that they, also, had advanced a 
 stage in the grand processes of Sunday morning. 
 
 The children came teasing me to dress them, so I 
 fastened for them a variety of small articles which I 
 flattered myself on having combined in a very ingenious 
 and artistic manner, though I believe those infant Keel- 
 ers went weeping to Grandma afterwards, and were re- 
 modelled by her all-comforting hand with much skill 
 and patience. 
 
 In the midst of her preparations for breakfast, Made- 
 line abruptly assumed her hat and shawl, and was seen
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 95 
 
 from the window, walking leisurely across the fields in 
 the direction of the woods. She returned in due time, 
 bearing an armful of fresh evergreens, which she twisted 
 around the family register. 
 
 When the ancient couple made their appearance, I 
 remarked silently, in regard to Grandma Keeler's hair, 
 what proved afterward to be its usual holiday morning 
 arrangement. It was confined in six infinitesimal 
 braids which appeared to be sprouting out, perpendic- 
 ularly, in all directions from her head. The effect of 
 redundancy and expansiveness thus heightened and 
 increased on Grandma's features was striking in the 
 extreme. 
 
 While we were eating breakfast, that good soul ob- 
 served to Grandpa Keeler: "Wall, pa, I suppose 
 you'll be all ready when the time comes to take teacher 
 and me over to West Wallen to Sunday school, won't 
 ye?" 
 
 Grandpa coughed, and coughed again, and raised hU 
 eyes helplessly to the window. 
 
 " Looks some like showers," said he. " A-hem I a- 
 hem ! Looks mightily to me like showers, over yonder." 
 
 " Thar', r'aly, husband ! I must say I feel mortified 
 for ye," said Grandma. " Seein' as you're a professor, 
 too, and thar' ain't been a single Sunday mornin' since 
 I've lived with ye, pa, summer or winter, but what you've 
 seen showers, and it r'aly seems to me it's dreadful in- 
 consistent when thar' ain't no cloud in the sky, and don't 
 look no more like rain than I do." And Grandma's 
 face, in spite of her reproachful tones, was, above all, 
 blandly sunlike and expressive of anything rather thar* 
 deluge and watery disaster.
 
 96 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Grandpa was silent a little while, then coughed agaro 
 I had never seen Grandpa in worse straits. 
 
 " A-hem ! a-hem ! ' Fanny ' seems to be a little lame, 
 this mornin'," said he. " I shouldn't wonder. She's 
 been goin' pretty stiddy this week." 
 
 " It does beat all, pa," continued Grandma Keeler, 
 "how 't all the horses you've ever had since I've known 
 ye have always been took lame Sunday mornin'. Thar* 
 was ' Happy Jack,' he could go anywhers through the 
 week, and never limp a step, as nobody could see, and 
 Sunday mornin' he was always took lame ! And thar' 
 was ' Tantrum' " 
 
 " Tantrum " was the horse that had run away with 
 Grandma when she was thrown from the wagon, and 
 generally smashed to pieces. And now, Grandma 
 branched off into the thrilling reminiscences connected 
 with this incident of her life, which was the third time 
 during the week that the horrible tale had been repeated 
 for my delectation. 
 
 When she had finished, Grandpa shook his head with 
 painful earnestness, reverting to the former subject of 
 discussion. 
 
 " It's a long jaunt ! " said he ; " a long jaunt ! " 
 
 " Thar's a long hill to climb before we reach Zion's 
 mount," said Grandma Keeler, impressively. 
 
 " Wall, there's a darned sight harder one on the road 
 to West Wallen ! " burst out the old sea-captain despe- 
 rately ; " say nothin' about the devilish stones ! " 
 
 " Thar' now," said Grandma, with calm though awful 
 reproof ; " I think we've gone fur enough for one day ; 
 we've broke the Sabbath, and took the name of the 
 Lord in vain, and that ought to be enough for per* 
 fessors."
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. gy 
 
 Grandpa replied at length in a greatly subdued tone : 
 * Wall, if you and the teacher want to go over to Sun- 
 day school to-day, I suppose we can go if we get ready," 
 a long submissive sigh "I suppose we can." 
 
 " They have preachin' service in the mornin', I sup- 
 pose," said Grandma. " But we don't generally git 
 along to that. It makes such an early start. We gen- 
 erally try to get around, when we go, in time for Sun- 
 day school. They have singin' and all. It's just about 
 as interesting I think, as preachin'. The old man 
 ra'ly likes it," she observed aside to me ; " when he 
 once gets started, but he kind o' dreads the gittin' 
 started." 
 
 When I beheld the ordeal through which Grandpa 
 Keeler was called to pass, at the hands of his faithful 
 consort, before he was considered in a fit condition of 
 mind and body to embark for the sanctuary, I marvelled 
 not at the old man's reluctance, nor that he had indeed 
 seen clouds and tempest fringing the horizon. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast, he set out for the barn, 
 ostensibly to " see to the chores ; " really, I believe, to 
 obtain a few moments' respite, before worse evil should 
 come upon him. 
 
 Pretty soon Grandma was at the back door calling in 
 firm though persuasive tones : 
 
 " Husband ! husband ! come in, now, and get ready." 
 
 No answer. Then it was in another key, weighty, 
 yet expressive of no weak irritation, that Grandma 
 called " Come, pa ! pa-a ! pa-a-a ! " Still no answer. 
 
 Then that voice of Grandma's sung out like a trumpet, 
 terrible with meaning " Bijonah Keeler ! " 
 
 But Grandpa appeared not. Next, I saw Grandma
 
 98 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 slowly but surely gravitating in the direction of the barn, 
 and soon she returned, bringing with her that ancient 
 delinquent, who looked like a lost sheep indeed and a 
 truly unreconciled one. 
 
 " Now the first thing," said Grandma, looking her 
 forlorn captive over ; " is boots, Go and get on yer 
 meetin' gaiters, pa." 
 
 The old gentleman, having invested himself with those 
 sacred relics, came pathetically limping into the room. 
 
 " I declare, ma," said he ; " somehow these things 
 phew! Somehow they pinch my feet dreadfully. I 
 don't know what it is, phew ! They're dreadful 
 oncomf'table things somehow." 
 
 " Since I've known ye, pa," solemnly ejaculated 
 Grandma Keeler, " you've never had a pair o' meetin' 
 boots that set easy on yer feet. You'd ought to get 
 boots big enough for ye, pa," she continued looking 
 down disapprovingly on the old gentleman's pedal 
 extremities, which resembled two small scows at anchor 
 in black cloth encasements : " and not be so proud as 
 to go to pinchin' yer feet into gaiters a number o' sizes 
 too small for ye." 
 
 " They're number tens, I tell ye ! " roared Grandpa 
 nettled outrageously by this cutting taunt. 
 
 " Wall, thar', now, pa," said Grandma, soothingly ; " if 
 I had sech feet as that, I wouldn't go to spreadin' it all 
 over town, if I was you but it's time we stopped 
 bickerin' now, husband, and got ready for meetin' ; so 
 set down and let me wash yer head." 
 
 " I've washed once this mornin'. It's clean enough," 
 Grandpa protested, but in vain. He was planted in a 
 chair, and Grandma Keeler, with rag and soap and a
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 99 
 
 basin of water, attacked the old gentleman vigorously, 
 much as I have seen cruel mothers wash the faces of 
 their earth-begrimed infants. He only gave expression 
 to such groans as : 
 
 "Thar', ma! don't tear my ears to pieces! Come, 
 ma ! you've got my eyes so full o' soap now, ma, that I 
 can't see nothin'. Phew ! Lordy 1 ain't ye most through 
 with this, ma ? " 
 
 Then came the dyeing process, which Grandma 
 Keeler assured me, aside, made Grandpa " look like a 
 man o' thirty : " but to me, after it he looked neither old 
 nor young, human nor inhuman, nor like anything that 
 I had ever seen before under the sun. 
 
 There's the lotion, the potion, the dye-er, and the 
 setter," said Grandma, pointing to four bottles on the 
 table. " Now whar's the directions, Madeline ? " 
 
 These having been produced from between the leaves 
 of the family Bible, Madeline read, while Grandma made 
 a vigorous practical application of the various mixtures. 
 
 " This admirable lotion " in soft ecstatic tones Mad- 
 eline rehearsed the flowery language of the recipe 
 " though not so instantaneously startling in its effect as 
 our inestimable dyer and setter, yet forms a most essen- 
 tial part of the whole process, opening, as it does, the 
 dry and lifeless pores of the scalp, imparting to them 
 new life and beauty, and rendering them more easily 
 susceptible to the applications which follow. But we 
 must go deeper than this ; a tone must be given to the 
 whole system by means of the cleansing and rejuvenat- 
 ing of the very centre of our beings, and, for this purpose, 
 we have prepared our wonderful potion." Here Grandpa, 
 with a wry face, was made to swallow a spoonful of the
 
 100 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 mixture. " Our unparalleled dyer," Madeline continued^ 
 " restores black hair to a more than original gloss and 
 brilliancy, and gives to the faded golden tress the sunny 
 flashes of youth." Grandpa was dyed. " Our world- 
 renowned setter completes and perfects the whole pro- 
 cess by adding tone and permanency to the efficacious 
 qualities of the lotion, potion, and dyer, etc. ; " while on 
 Grandpa's head the unutterable dye was set. 
 
 " Now, read teacher some of the testimonials, daugh- 
 ter," said Grandma Keeler, whose face was one broad, 
 generous illustration of that rare and peculiar virtue 
 called faith. 
 
 So Madeline continued : " Mrs. Hiram Briggs, or 
 North Dedham, writes : ' I was terribly afflicted with 
 baldness, so that, for months, I was little more than an 
 outcast from society, and an object of pity to my most 
 familiar friends. I tried every remedy in vain. At 
 length I heard of your wonderful restorative. After a 
 week's application, my hair had already begun to grow 
 in what seemed the most miraculous manner. At the 
 end of ten months, it had assumed such length and pro- 
 portions as to be a most luxurious burden, and where I 
 had before been regarded with pity and aversion, I 
 became the envied and admired of all beholders." 
 
 " Just think ! " said Grandma Keeler, with rapturous 
 Sympathy and gratitude, " how that poor creetur must 
 a.' felt ! " 
 
 " * Orion Spaulding of Weedsville, Vermont,' " Mad- 
 eline went on but, here, I had to beg to be excused, 
 and went to my room to get ready for the Sunday 
 school. 
 
 When I came down again, Grandpa Keeler was seated,
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. JQI 
 
 completely arrayed in his best clothes, opposite Grandma, 
 who held the big family Bible in her lap, and a Sunday- 
 school question book in one hand. 
 
 "Now, pa," said she; "what tribe was it in sacred 
 writ that wore bunnits ? " 
 
 I was compelled to infer from the tone of Grandpa 
 Keeler's answer that his temper had not undergone a 
 mollifying process during my absence. 
 
 " Come, ma," said he ; " how much longer ye gom* to 
 pester me in this way ? " 
 
 "Why, pa," Grandma rejoined calmly; "until you 
 git a proper understandin' of it. What tribe was it in 
 sacred writ that wore bunnits ? " 
 
 " Lordy ! " exclaimed the old man. " How d'ye sup- 
 pose I know ! They must 'a' been a tarnal old womanish 
 lookin' set any way." 
 
 "The tribe o' Judah, pa," said Grandma, gravely. 
 " Now, how good it is, husband, to have your under- 
 standin' all freshened up on the scripters ! " 
 
 " Come, come, ma ! " said Grandpa, rising nervously^ 
 " It's time we was startin'. When I make up my mind 
 to go anywhere I always want to git there in time. If 
 I was goin' to the Old Harry, I should want to git there 
 in time." 
 
 " It's my consarn that we shall git thar' before time, 
 some on us," said Grandma, with sad meaning, " unless 
 we larn to use more respec'ful language." 
 
 I shall never forget how we set off for church that 
 Sabbath morning, way out at one of the sunny back doors 
 of the Ark : for there was Madeline's little cottage that 
 fronted the highway, or lane, and then there was a long 
 backward extension of the Ark, only one story in
 
 102 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 height. This belonged peculiarly to Grandma and 
 Grandpa Keeler. It contained the " parlor " and three 
 ** keepin' " rooms opening one into the other, all of the 
 same size and general bare and gloomy appearance, all 
 possessing the same sacredly preserved atmosphere, 
 through which we passed with becoming silence and 
 solemnity into the " end " room, the sunny kitchen 
 where Grandma and Grandpa kept house by themselves 
 in the summer time, and there at the door, her very 
 yellow coat reflecting the rays of the sun, stood Fanny, 
 presenting about as much appearance of life and ani- 
 mation as a pensive summer squash. 
 
 The carriage, I thought, was a f ac-simile of the one in 
 which I had been brought from West Wallen on the 
 night of my arrival. One of the most striking peculiar- 
 ities of this sort of vehicle was the width at which the 
 wheels were set apart. The body seemed comparatively 
 narrow. It was very long, and covered with white can- 
 vas. It had neither windows nor doors, but just the 
 one guarded opening in front. There were no steps 
 leading to this, and, indeed, a variety of obstacles be- 
 fore it. And the way Grandma effected an entrance 
 was to put a chair on a mound of earth, and a cricket 
 on top of the chair, and thus, having climbed up to Fan- 
 ny's reposeful back, she slipped passively down, feet 
 foremost, to the whiffle-tree ; from thence she easily 
 gained the plane of the carriage floor. 
 
 Grandpa and I took a less circuitous, though, per- 
 haps, not less difficult route. 
 
 I sat with Grandpa on the "front" seat it may be 
 remarked that the " front " seat was very much front, 
 and the " back " seat very much back there was a
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 103 
 
 1 ind of wooden shelf built outside as a resting-place for 
 the feet, so that while our heads were under cover, our 
 feet were out, utterly exposed to the weather, and we 
 must either lay them on the shelf or let them hang off 
 into space. 
 
 Madeline and the children stood at the door to see 
 us off. 
 
 " All aboard ! ship ballasted ! wind fa'r ! go ahead, 
 thar', Fanny ! " shouted Grandpa, who seemed quite re- 
 stored in spirits, and held the reins and wielded the 
 whip with a masterful air. 
 
 He spun sea-yarns, too, all the way - marvellous ones, 
 and Grandma's reproving voice was mellowed by the 
 distance, and so confusedly mingled with the rumbling 
 of the wheels, that it seemed hardly to reach him at all. 
 Not that Grandma looked discomfited on this account, 
 or in bad humor. On the contrary, as she sat back 
 there in the ghostly shadows, with her hands folded, and 
 her hair combed out in resplendent waves on either side 
 of her head, she appeared conscious that every word 
 she uttered was taking root in some obdurate heart. 
 She was, in every respect, the picture of good-will and 
 contentment. 
 
 But the face under Grandpa's antiquated beaver began 
 to give me a fresh shock every time I looiced up at him, 
 for the light and air were rapidly turning his rejuvenated 
 locks and his poor, thin fringe of whiskers to an unnat- 
 ural greenish tint, while his bushy eyebrows, untouched 
 by the hand of art, shone as white as ever. 
 
 In spite of the old sea-captain's entertaining stories, 
 it seemed, indeed, " a long jaunt " to West Wallen. 
 
 To say that Fanny was a slow horse would be but a 
 feeble expression of the truth.
 
 104 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 A persevering " click ! click ! click ! n began to arise 
 from Grandma's quarter. This annoyed Grandpa ex- 
 ceedingly. 
 
 " Shet up, ma ! " he was moved to exclaim at last. 
 " I'm steerin' this craft." 
 
 "Click! click! click 1" came perseveringly from 
 behind. 
 
 " Dum it, ma ! thar', ma ! " cried Grandpa, exasperated 
 beyond measure. " How is this hoss goin' to hear any- 
 thing that I say ef you keep up such a tarnal cack- 
 lin' ? " 
 
 Just as we were coming out of the thickest part of 
 the woods, about a mile beyond Wallencamp, we discov- 
 ered a man walking in the distance. It was the only 
 human being we had seen since we started. 
 
 " Hullo, there's Lovell ! " exclaimed Grandpa. " I 
 was wonderin' why we hadn't overtook him before. 
 We gin'ally take him in on the road. "Yis, yis; 
 that's Lovell, ain't it, teacher?" 
 
 I put up my glasses, helplessly. 
 
 " I'm sure," I said, " I can't tell, positively. I have 
 seen Mr. Barlow but once, and at that distance I 
 shouldn't know my own father." 
 
 "Must be Lovell," said Grandpa. "Yis, I know 
 him ! Hullo, thar' ! Ship ahoy ! ship ahoy ! " 
 
 Grandpa's voice suggested something of the fire and 
 vigor it must have had when it rang out across the 
 foam of waves and pierced the tempest's roar. 
 
 The man turned and looked at us, and then went on 
 again. 
 
 " He don't seem to retegnize us," said Grandma. 
 
 " Ship a-hoy ! Ship a-hoy ! " shouted Grandpa.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 The man turned and looked at us again, and this 
 time he stopped and kept on looking. 
 
 When we got up to him we saw that it wasn't Lovell 
 Barlow at all, but a stranger of trampish appearance, 
 drunk and fiery, and fixed in an aggressive attitude. 
 
 I was naturally terrified. What if he should attack 
 us in that lonely spot ! Grandpa was so old ! And 
 moreover, Grandpa was so taken aback to find that it 
 wasn't Lovell that he began some blunt and stammering 
 expression of surprise, which only served to increase 
 the stranger's ire. Grandma, imperturbable soul ! who 
 never failed to come to the rescue even in the most 
 desperate emergencies Grandma climbed over to the 
 front, thrust out her benign head, and said in that deep, 
 calm voice of hers : 
 
 " We're a goin' to the house of God, brother ; won't 
 you git in and go too ? " 
 
 " No ! " our brother replied, doubling up his fists and 
 shaking them menacingly in our faces : " I won't go 
 to no house o' God. What d'ye mean by overhauling 
 
 me on the road, and askin' me to git into yer d d 
 
 old travelling lunatic asylum ? " 
 
 " Drive on, pa," said Grandma, coldly : " He ain't 
 in no condition to be labored with now. Drive on kind 
 o' quick!" 
 
 * Kind o' quick' we could not go, but Fanny was 
 made to do her best, and we did not pause to look 
 behind. 
 
 When we got to the church, Sunday-school had 
 already begun. There was Lovell Barlow looking pre- 
 ternaturally stiff in his best clothes, sitting with a class 
 of young men. He saw us when we came in, and gave
 
 106 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 me a look of deep meaning. It was the same exprea- 
 sion- as though there was some solemn, mutual under- 
 standing between us which he had worn on that night 
 when he gave me his picture. 
 
 " There's plenty of young folks' classes," said Grand- 
 ma ; " but seem' as we're late maybe you'd jest as soon 
 go right along in with us." 
 
 I said that I should like that best, so I went into the 
 " old folks' " class with Grandma and Grandpa Keeler. 
 
 There were three pews of old people in front of us, 
 and the teacher, who certainly seemed to me the oldest 
 person I had ever seen, sat in an otherwise vacant pew 
 in front of all, so that, his voice being very thin and 
 querulous, we could hear very little that he said, although 
 we were edified in some faint sense by his pious manner 
 of shaking his head and rolling his eyes toward the 
 ceiling. 
 
 The church was a square wooden edifice, of medium 
 size, and contained three stoves all burning brightly. 
 Against this, and the drowsy effect of their long drive in 
 the sun and wind, my two companions proved powerless 
 to struggle. 
 
 Grandpa looked furtively up at Grandma, then 
 endeavored to put on as a sort of apology for what he 
 felt was inevitably coming, a sanctimonious expression 
 which was most unnatural to him, and which soon faded 
 away as the sweet unconsciousness of slumber overspread 
 his features. His head fell back helplessly, his mouth 
 opened wide. He snored, but not very loudly. I looked 
 at Grandma, wondering why her vigilance had failed on 
 this occasion, and lo ! her head was falling peacefully 
 from side to side. She was fast asleep, too. She woke
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 lO/ 
 
 up first, however, and then Grandpa was speedily and 
 adroitly aroused by some means, I think it was a pin ; 
 and Grandma fed him with bits of unsweetened flag-root 
 which he munched penitently, though evidently without 
 relish, until he dropped off to sleep again, and she 
 dropped off to sleep again, and so they continued. 
 
 But it always happened that Grandma woke up first 
 And whereas Grandpa, when the avenging pin pierced 
 his shins, recovered himself with a start and an air of 
 guilty confusion, Grandma opened her eyes at regular 
 intervals, with the utmost calm and placidity, as though _ 
 she had merely been closing them to engage in a few 
 moments of silent prayer. 
 
 Our class occupied an humble place in the sanctuary, 
 near the door. Behind the pew in which Grandma, 
 Grandpa, and I were sitting there was one more vacant. 
 Presently the door opened, admitting a delightful waft 
 of fresh air, and some one entered that pew, and bowed 
 his head forward on the desk in a devotional attitude. 
 
 After the brief excitement caused by the advent of 
 this new and very late comer had subsided, the Sunday, 
 school resumed its former lethargic condition, and then 
 I heard my own name whispered very softly in my ear. 
 
 I had to turn my head but a little to meet the depre- 
 cating, though evidently irreverent eyes of Emily's 
 fisherman. 
 
 " How do you do, Miss Hungerford ? " he murmured 
 brightly. " Please don't consider me in the light of an 
 intruder. I know I'm rather young for the class, to 
 which you are admitted by reason of some extraordinary 
 acquaintance with biblical lore." 
 
 " But it's an excellent opportunity for you to address 
 the little boys and girls," I said.
 
 108 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Mr. Rollin, reddening. " I only 
 meant that for a joke, you know." 
 
 Without pausing to reflect at all on the moral conse- 
 quences of the act, I welcomed the appearance of this 
 voluble, fashionably-dressed young man among the 
 " ancient and fish-like " odors of the West Wallen meet- 
 ing-house with a positive sense of relief. 
 
 " If I might venture to suppose," Mr. Rollin continued, 
 whispering, " that I came here to-day clothed, in any 
 sense, as an angel of light and, indeed, I feel a good 
 deal like that sort of thing to-day so sweet are the 
 solaces of an approving conscience, and the conscious- 
 ness of having resisted temptation. You see I was 
 yes, I was going fishing this morning, but I saw Captain 
 Keeler go by to church observe, too, the beauty of 
 setting a good example and I persuaded myself that 
 it was wrong to go fishing on Sunday, and so I concluded 
 to come to church, too." 
 
 At the light mockery of the fisherman's tone, the 
 bolder flattery of his eyes, I felt the same quick flash of 
 resentment that his words had occasioned when he 
 walked with me up the lane. I turned my head away 
 with the noble resolve to keep it there persistently. 
 
 Then I heard the whisper, " Miss Hungerford, you 
 are driving me to the last extreme of idol worship. I 
 shall keep on addressing my petitions to that ostrich tip 
 in your hat until you give me, at least, the benefit of 
 your profile." 
 
 " I don't see why you should say such irreverent things 
 to me, Mr. Rollin," I said, quite seriously, turning, and 
 boking him full in the face, for an instant. 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " he replied, in an almost inaudibU
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 109 
 
 tone. " And if I could have conceived of such a thing, 
 I would beg your pardon. You have brothers, Miss 
 Hungerf ord ? " 
 
 " Yes," I answered, nodding my head slightly, with 
 my eyes fixed steadfastly on the ancient instructor of 
 our class. 
 
 " How would you feel if your brother was off, alone, 
 in some wild country, in need of good and gentle influ- 
 ences, and some young lady should treat him as you are 
 treating me ? Please turn your head a little this way. 
 But, on the whole, I'm very glad I'm not your brother. 
 Shall I tell you why ? Miss Hungerford," the fisherman 
 continued, after a pause, " do you know I've always 
 heard that auburn-haired people come, by right, into 
 possession of the worst tempers. Your hair is brown 
 dark brown, and mine is red, almost don't you think 
 so ? and yet my mind is all peace within, and hope, 
 and joy, and 
 
 4 What is the blooming tincture of the skin, 
 To peace of mind and purity, within ? ' 
 
 Miss Hungerford, it has been full two minutes, by my 
 watch, since I caught the last beam from your eye. Let 
 us forget the idle wranglings of the hour, and compose 
 our minds to the great subjects which agitate eternity. 
 One of those insects which infest ancient church edifices 
 has been hovering about Captain Keeler's mouth. It 
 has been drawn in. It has disappeared. Such are we, 
 hovering on the vortex of eternity. How calm and 
 undisturbed the old captain's face ! how utterly uncon- 
 scious of the tragedy just enacted ! So eternity swallows 
 us and leaves no trace behind, and no ripple marks its 
 surface. How infer how more than odd the old cap-
 
 310 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 tain looks, anyway ! I say, she ought to have touched 
 up his eyebrows a little, you know, while she was at the 
 nefarious business, Miss Hungerford." 
 
 " Yes," I answered, listening deliberately. 
 
 " Do you suppose that the time will ever come when 
 she to whom I once gave the love of my young heart, 
 and all that sort of thing, you know, will take me in 
 hand, and dye my hair, and rig me up, and make such 
 an infernal-looking old guy of me ? " 
 
 " I don't see how you can escape," I said. " But you 
 won't care so much, then." 
 
 " No, that's true." Mr. Rollin sighed deeply ; " I 
 shall be old, then ; 
 
 ' When I am old, I shall not care 
 To deck with flowers my faded hair.' * 
 
 The idea of Mr. Rollin decking his hair with flowers 
 was a specially entertaining one to me. 
 
 Presently, he continued : 
 
 "To descend for a moment to secular subjects I've 
 got my own horses here now, Miss Hungerford. I 
 had my man Bob bring them down fiom Providence. 
 They got here last night, and they're a pair of spankers, 
 too, if I do say it that shouldn't, as the phrase is. 
 That was one of the inducements which led me to 
 follow your to follow Captain Keeler's example in 
 coming to church this morning. And now I have 
 a calm, serious, and reasonable proposal to make. No 
 doubt we are both familiar with the small convention- 
 alities of life, but on such a day as this, and with such a 
 glorious air outside, and such a unique framework of 
 society everything delightfully pagan scruples
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 o 
 H 
 y 
 co
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. m 
 
 worthy only of small consideration at any time should 
 be thrown aside. I don't know what perils you encoun- 
 tered on your way to church this morning, in the 
 canvas-covered vehicle. But, if you will drive back to 
 Wallencamp with me, I promise to take you there 
 fleetly and safely, and you may have the consciousness, 
 besides, if you care for it, that you have made the day 
 one of spiritual reclamation to an erring fellow- 
 creature." 
 
 The Sunday-school had risen to its feet and was 
 slowly droning "Yield not to temptation," etc. The 
 situation was odd enough. Mr. Rollin's repressed 
 laughing voice was in my ear : " Will you yield ? " and I 
 yielded. 
 
 At the close of the Sunday-school, as we were going 
 out of the church, I told Grandma that I should drive 
 home with Emily's fisherman. 
 
 She drew me gravely to one side. " We shall be very 
 sorry to lose your company, teacher," she said ; " only 
 we hadn't ought to lose no precious opportunity, and I 
 do hope as you'll labor for that young man's soul." I 
 felt hopelessly conscience-stricken. 
 
 We drove home through " Lost Cedars " a good 
 many miles out of the ordinary course and I was 
 cheerfully consenting to the divergence. 
 
 Wild and tenantless, in the midst of a wild and 
 tenantless landscape, Lost Cedars wore that air of 
 lovely, though utter, desolation which might easily have 
 suggested its name. 
 
 There was a still unfrozen lake, which the setting sun, 
 more like the sun of an Italian winter than of rugged 
 New England, was painting in gorgeous colors, when we 
 reached the place.
 
 112 CAPE COD FOLKS, 
 
 "We come fishing here, sometimes," said Mr. Rollin; 
 " I keep a little boat down there under the bush, and I 
 happen to have the key of the boat here in my pocket. 
 It looks awfully tempting, doesn't it ? " 
 
 I had always been passionately fond of out-door life, 
 and prided myself in having acquired no little skill 
 at the oar. We were out on the painted lake, and I was 
 rowing the light boat, and taking much selfish enjoy- 
 ment out of the scene around me, when I became 
 conscious that the fisherman was leaning far forward 
 from his seat in the boat, addressing me in a low tone. 
 
 " To discuss a topic appropriate to the day, Miss 
 Hungerford : I suppose you've read about that fellow 
 who was looking for the pearl of great price, haven't 
 you? that is, as I take it, you know, it was something 
 that was going to be of more value to him than any- 
 thing else in the world, well, now, I believe that 
 every man thinks he's going to be lucky enough to fall 
 in with something of that sort some day, don't you ? " 
 
 Mr. Rollin's tone was unusually serious and even 
 slightly embarrassed. I looked up with curious surprise 
 from my dreamy observation of the water. Then I 
 thought of what Grandma Keeler had said to me about 
 laboring for this young man's spiritual good. 
 
 " I think we all ought to seek it," I observed tritely, 
 giving a long, studied artistic stroke to the oars. " I 
 don't see why you shouldn't find it, I'm sure if you 
 ask. I wish that I were good enough to talk to you real 
 helpfully on this subject" 
 
 I was startled at the inspiriting effect my brief exhor- 
 tation seemed already to have produced on the soul of 
 Emily's fisherman.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 113 
 
 " To ask ! is that all ! " he exclaimed in the same low 
 breath. And looking at the glowing, though rather un- 
 sanctified light on his features, my interest suddenly 
 expanded to take in the possible drift of his words. I 
 concluded that it was time for me to show myself 
 eminently discreet ; having departed so far from the 
 immediate object of my mission as to spend a consider- 
 able part of the Sabbath driving and rowing with a 
 strange young man, miles from every place of refuge. 
 
 " I'm tired," I said. " Please row back now, I 
 should like to go home." 
 
 I rose to give Mr. Rollin my place at the oar. He 
 held out his hand to assist me, and, whether by any 
 malicious design of his or not, at that moment the boat 
 gave a sudden lurch, and I was precipitated helplessly 
 forward into his arms. I felt his kiss burning on 
 my lips. 
 
 With anger at the fisherman's unfairness, and bitter- 
 ness at what I felt to be the mortifying result of my own 
 folly and indiscretion " Oh," I exclaimed ; " I hate 
 you ! I wish you would never speak to me again ! I 
 wish I had fallen into the water." 
 
 The fisherman sent the boat leaping on with long 
 
 strokes. " D n it ! " he muttered softly : " I wish 
 
 you had, and I after you ! " 
 
 We drove for several miles on the way homeward in 
 silence. Then Mr. Rollin spoke. I had been meditat- 
 ing upon Rebecca, upon my determination to make my 
 life in Wall encamp one of supreme self-sacrifice and 
 devotion to duty, and had concluded, in a deeply 
 repentant mind, that this unpleasant incident at the 
 close of the day was only the natural consequence of my
 
 114 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 error in departing from the prescribed limits of my 
 self-appointed task. 
 
 I felt that after this experience it would be unwise for 
 me further to extend my mission work in Mr. Rollin's 
 behalf. So I answered him but briefly, and in a tone of 
 martyr-like composure, which I could not help observ- 
 ing perplexed and irritated him more than anger or the 
 most frigid silence would have done. 
 
 I was strengthened in this frame of mind when we 
 parted at the little gate in front of the Ark, and Mr, 
 Rollin proposed another drive for the ensuing week. 
 
 Then I revealed to the fisherman the grave burden of 
 my soul. 
 
 " Mr. Rollin," I said ; " if I had come to Wallencamf 
 merely in search of my own pleasure and diversion, i 
 should doubtless find it very easy to do some thingf 
 which I do not consider harmful in themselves, bu f 
 which it is wrong for me to do under the circumstances, 
 I may tell you that I have been very reckless, very 
 thoughtless in my life, but I came here resolving to de- 
 vote myself to an earnest, serious work. I hoped to do 
 these people good. They do seem to believe in me. 
 They trust me. I cannot bear that they should think 
 me in any way unworthy of their trust. When you 
 asked me to drive this evening, it was just as it used 
 to be I did not think. You were very kind. It was 
 pleasant, and I thank you, but I ought not to have 
 gone don't you see ? I believe, now, that it would 
 have been so much better if I had not." 
 
 "I don't see," said Mr. Rollin; "why should you 
 leave me out altogether ? Don't I believe in you ? Don't 
 I need to be done some good to ? "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 115 
 
 At this last childishly whimsical appeal I was in sore 
 danger of being diverted from the serious channel of my 
 thoughts. Then the door of the Ark softly opened 
 a little way, and there, nightcapped in white, like a 
 full, benignant moon, appeared the head of Grandma 
 Keeler, as she peered blindly out into the night. 
 
 " Poor old soul ! " I said. " She has probably been 
 'waiting and watching.' Don't you see already one of 
 the results of my sinning ? Good night," I said, ex- 
 tending my hand to the fisherman, who had fixed on 
 that innocent and unconscious nightcap a darkly 
 withering gaze. 
 
 " Oh, never mind me," he muttered, turning abruptly. 
 " Only take care of this infernal old nest of Hoosiers, 
 and respectable people may go to the devil I"
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 BECKY AND THE CRADLEBOW. 
 
 EACHER'S got Beck's beau ! " 
 
 " Teacher's got Beck's beau ! " I heard it 
 whispered among the school children. Rebecca 
 heard, too, and paled a little, but looked up at me and 
 smiled as frankly as ever. 
 
 Seeing her alone afterwards, I took occasion to 
 remark, incidentally, "how kind it was of her friend, 
 Mr. Rollin, to bring me home from church. Fanny 
 was so slow 1 And I thought he was a very pleasant 
 young man, but even the most estimable people, you 
 know," I added, laughing, with an undertone of studied 
 significance ; " are not just fitted to enjoy each other's 
 society always." 
 
 Then I blushed under the girl's clear, trustful gaze. 
 
 "You don't think I mind what the children talkl" 
 she said. 
 
 Every day Rebecca appealed more and more, un- 
 consciously, to what was most generous and grave and 
 heedful in my nature. She seemed to be demanding o 
 me, with mute, gentle importunity, to make real my 
 ideal of life, to be what I knew she believed me to be. 
 Her faith in my superior wisdom and goodness, her 
 slow, timid way of confiding in me, with tears and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 blushes even ; it was all very flattering, very captivating 
 to one who had but so lately risen to occupy the pedes- 
 tal of a moral instructress, and " my child," " my dear 
 child," I said to her in many private discourses, with 
 more than the tranquil grace and dignity with which 
 such terms had been applied to me, only a year before, 
 by the august principal of Mt. B Seminary. 
 
 Rebecca read my books, and I drew her out to talk 
 with me about them. She prepared her lessons, with 
 me, out of school. She knew that she might come 
 whenever she chose tO y my little room at the Ark, 
 which the chimney kept comfortably warm, and often I 
 heard her footsteps on the stairs and her gentle knock 
 at the door. 
 
 If I was troubled or perplexed on any account, 
 Rebecca always seemed to understand in that quiet, 
 unobtrusive way of hers, and followed my movements 
 with a grave, restful sympathy in her eyes. On several 
 occasions I had asked her, playfully, to walk up the 
 lane with me after school. So it became a matter of 
 course that she should wait for me. Often we took 
 longer walks, for it was an " open winter," with only one 
 or two light falls of snow. 
 
 Then I believed the " Tempter " came to me, in the 
 form of another invitation to drive, from Mr. Rollin. 
 
 Occupied with my duties in the school-room, one 
 afternoon, I was startled to observe these characters as 
 suddenly and mysteriously raised as if by the unseen 
 hand of a modern sibyl on the blackboard : 
 
 " teecher's Bo is a setting On the Fens." 
 
 Involuntarily raising my eyes to the window, I was 
 enable to discover on the fence opposite anything of th
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 nature indicated in those words. I concluded that the 
 whole was to be taken as one of those deeply alle- 
 gorical expressions in which the Wallencamp tongue 
 abounded. 
 
 Shortly afterward, a boy who had been playing truant 
 and the Jews' harp at the same time, in a subdued and 
 melancholy way under the window, and who had, doubt- 
 less, been bribed to undertake his present commission 
 through some extraordinary means, entered the school 
 room, and laid on my desk a note from the auburn-haired 
 fisherman. It was hastily scrawled in lead pencil, on a 
 feaf torn from a memorandum. 
 
 The fisherman confessed to all the meekness and long 
 suffering, without the cheerful intrepidity of Mary's little 
 lamb ! He would do all his waiting outside. Mr. Levi 
 was down from West Wallen to-day, and said that he 
 had heard somebody say that there were four letters 
 came for the teacher in last night's mail. Would I like 
 to drive over to West Wallen and get them. The fisher- 
 man did not believe that I had been in earnest in the 
 prudish and unreasonable notions I had propounded 
 when he left me the other evening. 
 
 " Prudish ! " In my newly-acquired elevation of mind, 
 I hugged the term with a deep, intense, and mysterious 
 delight. Oh, if my mother could only know if my 
 elder sister could only know that I had actually been 
 accused of prudishness ! It was in the glow and 
 inspiration of this idea that I indited the answer to Mr. 
 Rollin's missive: "Why would he make it unpleasant 
 and disagreeable for me to do what seemed so plainly 
 my duty?" and dispatched the same by the pensive 
 and unpunished truant, who was soon heard again
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 119 
 
 revelling in the stolen sweets of his Jews' harp beneath 
 the window. 
 
 After this I had no further intercourse with the fisher- 
 man for some days. If I chanced to meet him in the 
 lane, Rebecca was always with me. He came one 
 evening to the Ark. The young people were there, 
 singing. 
 
 Then I heard, from time to time, of his taking Rebecca 
 to drive, and congratulated myself that, through my 
 composed wisdom and forethought, the little world of 
 Wallencamp was destined to move very smoothly, on the 
 whole. 
 
 " I wonder why Mr. Rollin don't go home," observed 
 Grandma Keeler, complacently, on one of those rare 
 occasions when the Keeler family circle held quiet pos- 
 session of the Ark before the songful company had 
 arrived. " He didn't use to stay but a week or two at 
 a time, and all the rest o' the fishermen have been gone 
 some time now ; and he keeps them horses down here, 
 and goes loungin' around with no more object than a 
 butterfly in December." 
 
 " I tell ye he's a makin' up to Beck," said Grandpa 
 Keeler, with the knowing air of an old man accus- 
 tomed to fathom mysteries of this peculiar nature. 
 
 A spark shot out of Madeline's great, black eyes. 
 Then she laughed unpleasantly. " There's something 
 in the wind besides Beck," said she. 
 
 "Why, I don't know," said Grandma; "he don't 
 hang around there very much, may be, but they say he 
 takes her to ride, and I'm sure he don't wait on nobody 
 else. But I should think, if he was a going to speak 
 out he'd ought to do it, and not waste his time a keepin'
 
 120 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 a puttin' it off. Why, my fust husband wasn't but a 
 week makin' up his mind, and pa," she continued, 
 referring openly to Grandpa Keeler, " he wan't quite so 
 outspoken, to be sure ; but he came around to it in the 
 course of a month or two, and kind o' beat around the 
 bush then, and wanted to know what I thought on't, and 
 wall, I told him ' yes,' I didn't see no use in bein' 
 squeamish so long as I'd once made up my mind to it." 
 
 " I asked ye as soon as I could ! " exclaimed Grandpa, 
 bristling on the defensive. " I wanted to be sure o' 
 gittin' a house fust." 
 
 " There ! " said Madeline briskly, putting down her 
 foot, and tossing her head as she addressed the old 
 couple. " Be good, children ! Be good ! and now, 
 do you mark my words, it isn't Becky Weir that Dave 
 Rollin is hanging around here for. There's some folks 
 to be made up to, and there's some folks, jest as good, 
 to be stepped on. And Dave Rollin what does he 
 think of Wallencamp folks, anyway ? He wouldn't take 
 the trouble to kick 'em out of his road ; he'd jest step 
 on 'em, and he's steppin' on Beck Weir. He don't care 
 enough about her to let her alone." 
 
 " Wall, I don't know 1 " said Grandma. " What's 
 he stayin' for, then ? " 
 
 " Staying ! Lord, ma ! " said Madeline sharply, with 
 a strange cold glitter in her eye. " How do I knovr 
 what he's stayin' for ? Oh," she added, in a tone of 
 lighter bitterness, " It's a mild winter and open roads. 
 He's sketching they say, and exploring the Cape. Let 
 him explore from one end to the other, he won't find 
 such another fool as himself." 
 
 " We can't help nothin' by talkin' that way ; " said
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. lai 
 
 Grandma Keeler, a little pale, though calmly cognizant 
 of Madeline's emotion. 
 
 " You know I had an experience of my own once, ma," 
 said Madeline, terribly white about the lips. 
 
 " I wouldn't rake up old wounds, daughter." There 
 was nothing unfeeling in Grandma Keeler's tone. 
 
 The daughter shut her lips together tightly, as though 
 more than she had intended to reveal had already 
 escaped them, and applied herself desperately to her 
 sewing. 
 
 I fancied that I had detected a personally aggressive 
 quality in Madeline's indignant tone. 
 
 "I don't see why we should feel that way about 
 Rebecca," I said. " The more one gets aquainted with 
 her, the more lovable and worthy of respect she seems. 
 I knew a great many girls, at school girls with every 
 advantage of wealth and culture, too, who had not half 
 of Rebecca's grace and refinement, nor a tenth part of 
 her beauty ! " 
 
 Madeline said nothing, bending to her work with the 
 same bitter compression of the lips. 
 
 " It's right you should stand up for her,teacher," said 
 Grandma Keeler, pleasantly. " Miss Waite, she begun 
 by makin' a kind o' pet o' her, but I don't think Rebecca 
 ever set her heart on her as she has on you, and it's easy 
 to see you've took lots o' pains with her. She's a gittin' 
 them same kind o' sorter interestin' high-flowed ways 
 why, she used to be just like the rest of 'em jest sich 
 a rompin', roarin' thing as Drussilly Weir is now." 
 
 "Goodness gracious, ma!" Madeline put in again, 
 sharply. " What good is it going to do Beck Weir to 
 put on airs? Better stick to her own ways, and her own
 
 122 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 folks she'll find they'll stand by her best in the end, 
 I guess than to be fillin' her head with notions to hurt 
 her feelin's over by and by. She's a fool, I think, foi 
 treatin' George Olver as she does. He's worth a dozen 
 Dave Rollins, if his coat don't set quite so fine, and 
 would work his fingers off to suit her if she'd only set- 
 tle down to him and be sensible." 
 
 " Wall," said Grandma Keeler, in a tone that was a 
 curious contrast to Madeline's, "our feelin's won't 
 always go as we'd ought to have em', daughter." 
 
 " No, they won't ! " Madeline snapped out excitedly, 
 "but, ma, you know I'm in the right of it just as well as 
 I do ; and there's Lute Cradlebow's got to dreamin' and 
 moonin' around in the same way. Took it into his head 
 he wanted to get an education well, what hasn't he 
 took into his head ! So he must begin recitin' to teach- 
 er. Well, he had in his mind to study, I don't doubt, 
 to begin with, and used to come two or three times a 
 week, and rattle off a string, and now he's here every 
 day of his life, and, if there's any reciting going on, I 
 don't hear it not that I want to meddle with other 
 folks' business, but I've known those boys a good many 
 years, and I hate to see anybody hurt and run over, 
 even if they be young and ignorant, and making fools 
 of themselves. Some folks are none too good, I think, 
 for all their airs, and had better look out to see where 
 they're going ! " 
 
 " Why, thar', Madeline ! " said Grandma, with a 
 decided touch of disapproval in her voice. "R'a'ly, 
 seems to me you're kind o' out. I'm sure Luther Lar- 
 kin seems to be a gittin' along finely with his Latin and 
 Algibbery I'm sure I've heard a lot of it, when I've
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS 123 
 
 been goin' through the room, if you ain't ; and if he's 
 took it into his head to git book larnin', and maybe 
 scratch enough together to go away somewheres to 
 school, why, I'm sure, there's older boys than him, and 
 not so bright, have ketched up if they set there minds 
 to it, and as for our teacher Madeline ! " 
 
 " Oh, I've no doubt but what Miss Hungerford meant 
 kindly," said Madeline, with the lightness she could so 
 suddenly assume. " It's a mighty queer world, that's 
 all ! " she added presently, rising and putting on her 
 bonnet ; " and managed very queerly, for I suppose it 
 is managed. I'm going out, ma. Those children have 
 split my head with their noise to-day, and I promised 
 Patty I'd come in and sit awhile. Now, if I've been 
 cross and crazy, don't you and teacher talk me over," 
 she said, looking back and trying hard to smile and 
 she did look very tired and white, as though she had 
 been suffering "and if those children wake up and 
 begin to squall" with a glance towards the little bed- 
 room " let 'em squall. If I've wished it once to-day, 
 I have a hundred times, that they was the other side 
 of sunset ! " 
 
 " I wish you'd step into Lihu's such a poor, suffer- 
 in* creetur as he is with these," said Grandma, 
 appearing from the pantry with some eggs in her apron. 
 " I wish you could take the consolations of religion with 
 you, Madeline," she continued gravely, as Mrs. Philan- 
 der was closing the door. 
 
 " Lord, ma ! my pocket's full now !" exclaimed Mad- 
 eline. " Besides, they might break the eggs ! " And the 
 latch fell down with a click. 
 
 " I wish Madeline was a believer," Grandma sighed,
 
 124 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 purposely rattling about the cover of the stove to wake 
 up Grandpa, who had fallen asleep in his chair. 
 
 Grandpa looked at me, and smiled feebly, then 
 roused himself to meet this supposed challenge like a 
 man. 
 
 " Believer, ma ? " said he ; " why ain't I a believer ? 
 As old Cap'n Gates said to me on his last voyage " 
 Grandpa yawned alarmingly (poor old man ! he was 
 but half awake), as this unlucky reminiscence of his 
 sea-faring life flitted through his brain " says he, ' I 
 read my almanick and my Bible, both, Bijonah;' says 
 he, ' I read 'em both, and I believe there's a great deal 
 o' truth in both on 'em.' " 
 
 " Thar', pa ! " said Grandma, solemnly, " you'd better 
 go to sleep ! you'd fatter close your eyes, Bijonah Keeler ! 
 What if you should never open 'em again on earthly 
 scenes, and them words on your lips, and you a per- 
 fessor ! " 
 
 Grandpa scratched his head in drowsy bewilderment, 
 passed his hand once or twice over the coarse stubble 
 on his face, and again committed himself helplessly to 
 the sweet obliviousness of slumber. 
 
 I drew my chair up confidentially close to Grandma 
 Keeler's, and rested my arms on the table as I looked 
 into her face. 
 
 " Grandma ! " I said, for I knew that she was better 
 pleased to have me call her that; "I begin to think 
 that I ought never to have come to Wallencamp on a 
 mission, that perhaps it would be just as well if I had 
 never come to Wallencamp at all, I mean. I didn't 
 think. At first, it seemed more than anything else, like 
 something very new to entertain myself with. I didn't
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 125 
 
 think enough of the responsibility. Then, perhaps, I 
 thought too much of it. I don't know. I wish I were 
 out of it all. Grandma, I never tried to do the right 
 thing so hard before in my life. I never worked so 
 hard before and I don't mind that ; but I meant it 
 all for the best, and it's no use, it's just like all the 
 rest. I'm tired. I wish I were out of it." 
 
 "Wall, thar' new, darlin'," said Grandma, employing 
 to the full her tone of infinite consolation. " You ain't 
 the first one as mistook a stump for a livin' creetur in 
 the night, and don't you talk about givin' up nor nothin' 
 like it, darlin', for we couldn't do without you noways 
 nor you without us, for yet a while, I'm thinkin', though 
 it does seem strange and never you mind one straw 
 for what Madeline said, for she was kind o' out to-night, 
 anyway, not having got no letter from Philander, I sup- 
 pose. But then she ought not to feel so. Why, there 
 was time and time agin that I didn't git no letter from 
 Bijonah Keeler when he was voyagin', and to be sure, 
 they wasn't much better than nothin' when they did 
 come; for pa" Grandma cast a calmly comprehen- 
 sive glance at her unconscious mate " pa was a man 
 that had a great many idees in general, but, when he set 
 down to write a letter, somehow he seemed to consider 
 that it wasn't no place for idees, a letter wasn't 
 seemed as though he managed a'most a purpose not to 
 get none in." 
 
 " Grandma," I said, leaning forward, laughing, and 
 folding my hands in her lap, " you're the best comforter 
 I know of." 
 
 " Wall, thar'," said she ; " it's a good deal in feelin's, 
 and Madeline ain't r'al well, so she kind o' allows 'em 
 to overcome her sometimes."
 
 126 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 "And what did she mean by saying that about 
 Rebecca ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh, she just meant girls will be girls, that's all 1 " 
 replied Grandma ; " why, mercy ! I know all about that. 
 I don't feel like nothin' much more than a girl myself, 
 half the time ; and we all have to have our experiences, 
 to be sure. They ain't nobody else can wear 'em for 
 us, but, dear me! the Lord ain't going to let our 
 experiences hurt us ; they're for our betterin'." 
 
 " And Lute Cradlebow, Grandma ? " I said ; " what 
 did she mean about him ? " 
 
 " Oh, she just meant boys will be boys, that's all 
 especially big ones but thar' ! I've known 'em to get 
 over it a hundred times and not hurt 'em none. If you're 
 always lookin' at human natur' on the dark side, it seems 
 kind o' desp'rit. My first husband, he wasn't a fretful 
 man, but he was always viewin' the dark side o' things. 
 I suppose one reason was he didn't have no father nor 
 mother, and so he kind o' begun life as a took-in boy, 
 but Polios Slocum, he done very well by him, for he 
 hadn't no children of his own, but his brother that 
 was Daniel Slocum he had six. There was two boys 
 and four girls. Mary, she came fust. She was born 
 February nineteenth " 
 
 I was sorry that Grandma's thoughts had drifted intc 
 this hopeless and interminable channel. 
 
 I had considered carefully what Madeline had said, 
 and determined on a little new advice for my friend, 
 Rebecca. So, the next time we were alone in my room 
 together, I directed the conversation with a view to this 
 end. 
 
 " And I wouldn't trust any one, my dear," I said with
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 127 
 
 cheerful earnestness ; " then if people prove true, why, 
 it's all the more delightful ; and if not, one isn't disap- 
 pointed ; so you can hold the scales quite indifferently 
 in your own hand, and are always master of the situation. 
 Oh, I wouldn't trust people ! It would be very nice if 
 this were the sort of world that you could do it in, but 
 it isn't. It's a very deceitful world." 
 
 " But I can trust you, can't I ? " Rebecca held me 
 with her gravely questioning eyes. 
 
 " Well, I don't know ; " I began with the determina- 
 tion to be severely true to my text, but the look in 
 Rebecca's eyes hurt me. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! little girl," I continued, falling into the 
 half-tender, half-playful tone that it was always easiest 
 to assume with her ; " of course, you must trust me ! 
 Haven't I been a good teacher to you, so far ? " And 
 I sought by smiling in the girl's face, to chase the 
 grieved expression away from it. " What I meant was 
 that I wouldn't trust people generally, because it's a 
 selfish world, and such is the depravity of the human 
 mind that if it appears at all convenient, we are apt, you 
 know, to sacrifice other people to our own interests ; so, 
 with all the little kindnesses and politenesses which are 
 current in society, it is still the common practice and 
 if is best that it should be so to keep, in the main, a 
 sharp look out for ' Number One ! ' " 
 
 Having proceeded so far, it occurred to me that the 
 occasion was favorable for the discharge of another duty 
 which I had been meditating in regard to Rebecca. 
 
 " You are what Grandma Keeler calls a believer, are 
 you not, dear ? " I said, with the same composedly dic- 
 tatorial manner : " in distinction from a professor, J 
 mean."
 
 128 CAPE COD FOLKS, 
 
 Rebecca gave a little gasp, and turned her head away, 
 for an instant. When she looked back, there were tears 
 of distress in her eyes. 
 
 I felt a vague wonder and regret. 
 
 "No," she said; "I thought, once I wanted I 
 hoped " 
 
 " Why, child ! " I hastened to exclaim. " I didn't 
 ask you because I had any reason to doubt that you 
 were one quite the contrary but simply for this. 
 It seems to me it would be such a desirable thing for 
 you, situated as you are, here, with so few surroundings 
 of a refining and elevating nature, if you could attach 
 yourself, if it were merely for a feeling of fellowship and 
 sympathy for of course, you could not attend, often 
 to some simple Orthodox body of believers like the 
 Methodist church at West Wallen, for instance. It 
 seems to me, that, in your case, believing simply and 
 unquestionably, as I have no doubt you do, it would be 
 a sort of assurance, a sort of continual rest and support 
 to you. It would be a gr'eat relief to me if I felt that 
 you were so guarded. Not that I consider it essential 
 at all ; to some people, indeed, of a deeply thoughtful 
 and inquisitive mind, such a course would appear 
 impossible. You have never troubled yourself, Becky," 
 I continued, in a tone of reassuring lightness ; " you 
 have never troubled yourself with doubts and specula- 
 tions on religious subjects ? " 
 
 "I don't know," Becky replied, the look of per- 
 plexity and distress deepening in her eyes. 
 
 " Why should you ? " I murmured, softly stroking her 
 hair ; " He carries the lambs in His bosom." I had 
 been little in the habit of quoting Scripture the words,
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 129 
 
 coming to my mind, struck me as particularly beautiful 
 and applicable on this occasion. " And so what I have 
 suggested, would be the easiest and most natural thing 
 in the world for you to do. I suppose it might be nec- 
 essary for you to have come to some conclusion in regard 
 to the first principles of Theology ; but probably you 
 have already satisfied yourself as to these in your own 
 mind." 
 
 Rebecca looked little like one who had arrived at the 
 calm plane of philosophical conclusion of any sort. 
 
 " I don't know," she gasped. 
 
 " Well, take the Trinity, for instance," I continued, in 
 a tone highly suggestive of calm and supreme forbearance 
 with helpless ignorance. " Probably you believe in the 
 Trinity ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," said Rebecca. " I don't know 
 what it means. Nobody ever told me ; nobody ever 
 talked to me about those things before." 
 
 " It's simply," I said ; " a term implying the existence 
 of three persons in the Godhead. So the Trinitarians 
 are distinguished from the Unitarians who believe that 
 it consists of one. I'm not particularly informed as to 
 the Methodist credentials of faith. You will always hear 
 that they believe that salvation is free to all who will 
 accept of it. Some people believe that man is a free 
 agent, and may accept or refuse the means of grace, 
 and if he refuses, is eternally lost. And then, again, 
 there are the Universalists, who believe that all will be 
 eventually saved. There is the Calvinistic element 
 those who believe in predestination that is " 
 
 Becky had laid her head down on the bed, and was 
 quietly sobbing.
 
 130 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 "My poor child," I exclaimed, with swift compassion j, 
 " don't think anything more about what I have said to 
 you. Let it go. It isn't vital." 
 
 " You don't hate me for not knowing anything ? " 
 sobbed Becky. " Nobody ever tried to have me under- 
 stand, before." 
 
 " You know enough ; quite enough, dear ! " I remarked 
 hastily, producing from my trunk a quantity of illus- 
 trated magazines. These we looked over together, and 
 when Becky went away, the tears were dried in her 
 eyes, and she was laughing as merrily as ever. 
 
 With the severely implied reproach of Madeline's 
 words still in my mind, I took pains to assume toward 
 Luther Larkin a more elder-sisterly air even than before. 
 
 It was true, I felt that I had been unjustly stung, 
 having, amid the press of other duties, undertaken the 
 advancement of that bright youth, from motives, I 
 believed, of an ideal and disinterested nature. It was 
 also true, that, after the first enthusiasm with respect to 
 his lessons had passed away, as well as the natural 
 diffidence he had at first felt in my presence, Luther 
 Larkin, though punctual to the hour of recitation, had 
 gradually fallen into a habit of more lively and discur- 
 sive inquiry than that furnished within the dull range of 
 his text-books. He had a singularly fearless manner 
 of challenging the inexplicable in thought and life, with 
 a light conversational flow of much brilliancy. More- 
 over, he was a delightful dreamer. 
 
 We had our recitation, for quiet, in one of Grandma's 
 gloomy and mysterious keepin'-rooms. The only object 
 inviting to sedentary posture in this room was Grand- 
 pa's huge " chist," which occupied a position " along-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 131 
 
 side " the East window. Those sacred window curtains, 
 of green paper, flowered with crimson roses, were never 
 rolled up ; but as the light strayed in at one side, and 
 fell on the Cradlebow's fine head, often I reflected that 
 under certain other conditions of life, meaning condi- 
 tions more favorable to Luther Larkin, I might have 
 regarded him very tenderly, and invested the strength 
 and beauty of his young manhood with heroic meaning. 
 
 As it was, I assumed that I was years beyond him in 
 the gravest respects. And if there was any truth in 
 what Madeline had intimated, possibly I had been at 
 fault for not impressing this fact more deeply on his 
 mind. 
 
 " So you are getting sadly behindhand with your les- 
 sons, Luther," I said. " I wish you would make a 
 brave effort to catch up. There is no true attainment to 
 be reached without a corresponding degree of effort of 
 perseverance." 
 
 I spoke with a serious and gracious air, as though 
 this sentiment, gleaned from a profound experience, 
 had occurred to me as an idea peculiarly my own. 
 
 " Never mind the lessons ! " replied my audacious 
 pupil, brightly. " Teacher," he added presently, having 
 fallen into a gently musing attitude ; " how shiny those 
 crimples in your hair look, with that streak of sun 
 lighting on 'em ! " 
 
 " Luther," said I, very gravely: "you ought, not to 
 talk to me about my hair. Suppose we give our atten- 
 tion to these books. Now you were getting along so 
 fast, I'm very sorry " 
 
 " Do you think I'm to blame, teacher ? " exclaimed 
 Luther, earnestly. " There wasn't a stick of wood to
 
 132 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 be had in our house this morning I And I've had to be 
 off, all day, chopping, with Scudder you ought to 
 have seen the black snake we killed this morning. It 
 was six feet long. If you don't believe it, Scudder's 
 got the carcass. It was lying all curled up in the bushes 
 with its head up so 'you watch him, Lute,' says 
 Scudder, ' and I'll run and get the axe ! ' I couldn't 
 help laughing. The axe was over the other side of the 
 bog, and the snake began to stretch himself out and 
 slide along. I brought my boot-heel down once or 
 twice on his head, about as quick and strong as I could 
 make it. I killed him. It's a good sign to kill a 
 snake, teacher. It's a good sign to dream of killing 
 one ; but you come across one so, accidentally, and 
 kill it, and it's sure to bring good luck, Granny 
 says." 
 
 " That's more significant than a great many of your 
 signs and symbols," I said. " That means that you will 
 slay the tempter in your path, and be successful in over- 
 coming difficulties. In short, it means that whatever 
 there has been to divert you, you are coming back to 
 the resolve to study and improve yourself ; to be all 
 the stronger for having a few chance obstacles to dis- 
 pose of." 
 
 Luther's head began to droop a little. I thought it 
 was time that the melancholy atmosphere of the room 
 should have begun to exercise its usual depressive effect 
 on his spirits. 
 
 "You think I don't like the books, teacher," he said. 
 " I do, but there's most always something else to be 
 doing. Father's lame. He can't do any work, and 
 there's the rest to take care of. First, I sat up nights
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 133 
 
 tt) study, then I got so sleepy I couldn't. But I'd got 
 so in the habit of coming in to talk a little while after 
 you got home from school, teacher, that I I forgot to 
 forget it Have I been a great bother to you ? You've 
 been real good. I don't want you to think I forget 
 that. And if I'd had a chance at the books early, or to 
 push right along with 'em now, I might make out some- 
 thing in that line." 
 
 Luther did not speak complainingly, nor even with 
 hopeless regret. He rose and stretched himself, with 
 solemn satisfaction, to the extent of his goodly propor- 
 tions. 
 
 " But I'm a man now, teacher," he said. " I shall 
 be twenty in June, and life is short. A man hasn't got 
 time for everything. He'd be a fool to waste it crying 
 for what he didn't happen to have. He'd better push 
 along and work for the best. I meant to tell you. I'm 
 going to sea, teacher ! I'm going trading. I was down 
 to New Bedford, to see Captain Sparhauk yesterday, for 
 I was out with him once before, and got a good deal 
 of the hang of the business then ; and he offered me a 
 place on his ship next time he sails." 
 
 Luther stood with flushed face, regarding me with a 
 bright restless look of inquiry in his eyes. 
 
 " Are you going away, really, Luther ? 1'iw very 
 sorry ! " I said. 
 
 " You don't care ! what do you care ? " he exclaimed 
 almost rudely, with an unnatural touch of hardness in 
 his laugh. " It's the way you talk to all the rest. A 
 fellow might get to thinking too much about it. A 
 fellow might get to caring if he believed it I don't." 
 
 " What makes you think I shouldn't care if you were
 
 134 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 going away?" I continued, with the dispassionately 
 gentle and reproving tone I considered it wisest to 
 assume on the occasion. " I should care, I should be 
 very sorry. Come and sit down here, please, and tell 
 me all about it, when you are going, and where, and 
 what you are going for ? " 
 
 Luther came slowly back to the light. He seemed 
 verily to have grown older and handsomer in a moment. 
 I experienced a deeper feeling of regret than ever before, 
 that the circumstances of his life could not have been 
 conducive to heroism. 
 
 " The captain couldn't tell me just when he should 
 sail," said he ; " and I'm going to get money. I know 
 a good deal of the Spanish and Portugal, I learned to 
 talk them before and I shall go to a great many 
 places, I may not come back when the ship does. Say, 
 what strange eyes you've got, teacher ; now they're 
 brown and now, they're black, and now, they're a sort 
 of a purplish gray." 
 
 " Oh, my dear boy," I exclaimed, with a sudden acces- 
 sion of wisdom, sighing deeply ; " you ought not to talk 
 to me about the color of my eyes." At the same time 
 to deepen the effect of this condescending tenderness, I 
 pushed back lightly from his forehead a stray lock of 
 hair > *at was hanging there. 
 
 " Don't do that ! " the boy cried with startling impet- 
 uosity. " Don't call me that again ! I mean, teacher," 
 he went on in a gentler tone, though none the less 
 excitedly ; "if you should know somebody, that had 
 set his heart on something, very much, and didn't want 
 anything else if he couldn't have that, and if he should 
 know that he hadn't any right to ask for it now, but go
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 135 
 
 tff and work for it real hard, and, maybe come back 
 lucky in a few years, with a right to ask for it then ; 
 do you think, teacher, that there'd be any chance of his 
 finding of his getting what he wanted most ? If you 
 were in anybody's place, now, teacher, would you give 
 him a word of encouragement to try ? " 
 
 " I think that the person you speak of would be much 
 more likely to succeed in a practical undertaking, with- 
 out any hallucination of that sort before his eyes and 
 if, as you say, it isn't right that he should ask for it 
 now, can we predict that it would be any more reasona- 
 ble and expedient in the future ? These idle fancies of 
 ours soon pass away, Luther, and will look laughable and 
 grotesque enough to us by and by. Life is so full of 
 changes, and people change, oh, so much ! " 
 
 In spite of the vanity of my soul, I comforted myself 
 with the reflection that Luther would not care long. 
 I did not really believe that he would go to sea. I stood 
 with him a moment in the door of Grandma's kitchen. 
 He looked over to the woods, behind which the water 
 lay, and the fire and impatience had all gone out of his 
 manner. His gentleness touched me deeply, yet I was 
 determined not to feel his hurt, nor " if only the cir- 
 cumstances of his life had been different " what might 
 have been mine also ! 
 
 " Hark ! It's high tide. It's making quite a fuss 
 over there," he said. " I think a man feels more quiet 
 somehow, when he's out there, teacher. Father says I'm 
 a wild chap and uneasy. I guess that's so. I can take 
 care of them just as well too if I go, and better. Only 
 if I should die " there was nothing affected or forlorn 
 in the Cradlebow's tone "I should like to be buried
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 on the hill, with father's folks. You've been across there. 
 You look one way and there's the river, oftenest still 
 and the other way, you hear the old Bay scooting along 
 the sand. I like it, being used to hearing it go always. 
 Granny says it makes a difference then, where you lie, 
 about the resting easy. I don't know. Sometimes it 
 seems as though I should rest easier there." 
 
 " A dissertation on the graveyard," I began in a tone 
 of affected lightness, and then paused, convicted of 
 untruth by the solemn light in the Cradlebow's strange^ 
 grand eyes.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LUTE CRADLEBOW KISSES THE TEACHER. 
 
 ALLENCAMP had its peculiar seasons. After 
 the season of hulled corn, came the reign of 
 baked beans. It was during this latter dispen- 
 sation that my courage failed considerably. 
 
 Madeline used to remark, throwing a rare musical halo 
 about her words : " These beans are better than they 
 look. Ain't they, teacher ? " 
 
 And I was wont to reply conscientiously enough, 
 though with a sweetly wearied glance at the familiar 
 dish ; " Certainly, they do taste better than they look." 
 
 Occasionally we had what Harvey Dole called, 
 "squash on the shell," an ingenious term for the last 
 of the winter pumpkins boiled in halves, and served au 
 nature!. 
 
 Grandpa, too, pined and put away his food. He used 
 to look across the table at me, with a feeble appeal for 
 sympathy in his expression. Oftentimes he sighed 
 deeply, and related anecdotes redolent of " red salmon " 
 and " deer flesh," " strawberries as big as teacups " 
 and " peaches as big as pint bowls," in places where he 
 had sailed. 
 
 Once, he ventured to remark, apologetically, referring 
 to the beans and pumpkins, that " bein' sich a mild win-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 ter, somehow he didn't hanker arter sech bracin* food, 
 and he guessed he'd go over to Ware'am, and git some 
 pork." 
 
 " Wall, thar' now, pa ! " said Grandma ; " seems to me 
 we'd ought ter consider all the fruits o' God's bounty 
 as good and relishin' in their season." 
 
 "I call that punkin out of season," said Grandpa, 
 recklessly. " Strikes me so." 
 
 "I was talkin' about fruits. I wasn't talkin* about 
 punkins," said Grandma, with derisive conclusiveness. 
 
 " Wall," said Grandpa, very much aroused, " if you 
 call them tarnal white beans the fruits of God, I don't ! " 
 
 " Don't you consider that God made beans, pa ? " 
 
 " No, I don't ! " 
 
 'Who, then " continued Grandma, in an awful 
 tone "do you consider made beans, pa? " 
 
 Grandpa's eyes, as he glared at the dish, were large 
 and round, and significant of unspeakable things. 
 
 " Bijonah Keeler ! " Grandma hastened to say ; " my 
 ears have heard enough ! " 
 
 As for Grandma, neither her appetite, nor her spirits, 
 flagged. In spite of her confirmed habit of tantalizing 
 Grandpa and this was from no malevolence of motive, 
 but simply as the conscientious fulfilment of a sacred 
 religious and domestic duty she was the most delight- 
 ful soul I ever knew. 
 
 At supper, it was a habit for her to sit at the table 
 long after we had finished our meal, and to continue 
 eating and talking in her slow, automatic, sublimely 
 philosophical manner, until not a vestige of anything 
 eatable remained, and then as she rose, she would 
 remark, simply, with a glance at the denuded board :
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " It beats all, how near you guessed the vittles to- 
 night, daughter ! " 
 
 Then Grandma resorted to an occasional pastime, 
 harmless and playful enough in itself, yet intended as a 
 special means of discipline for Grandpa, and certainly, 
 a source of great torment and anxiety to that poor old 
 man. 
 
 Between the hours of eight and nine P. M., Grandma 
 would deftly glide out of the family circle, and be seen 
 no more that night. At bedtime, Grandpa would begin 
 the search, while Madeline and I ungenerously retired. 
 
 In the privacy of my own chamber, I could hear the 
 old Captain tramping desolately about the Ark, calling, 
 " Ma ! ma ! " Could hear the outside door swung open, 
 and imagine Grandpa's wild face peering into the dark- 
 ness, while still he called ; " Ma ! ma ! where be ye ? 
 It's half after ten ! " 
 
 Then, from the foot of the stairs would arise his dis- 
 tressed, appealing cry ; " Come, ma, where be ye ? It's 
 half after ten ! " Silence everywhere. With a mighty 
 groan, Grandpa would come shuffling up the steep stairs, 
 and what was most remarkable, Grandma was invariably 
 found secluded amid the rubbish in the old garret. 
 Then the whisperings that arose between those two 
 would have pierced through denser substances by far 
 than the little red door which separated me from the 
 scene. 
 
 " How'd I know, ma, but what you'd gone out and 
 broke yer leg, or somethin' ? Come, ma " with exas- 
 perated persuasiveness " what do ye want to pester 
 me this way for ? " 
 
 "Why, pa," arose the calm, mellifluous accents of
 
 1 40 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Grandma Keeler, " so't you might know how you'd fed 
 if I should be took away ! " 
 
 Next, the little staircase would resound with loud 
 creaks and groans, as this reunited couple cautiously 
 and I have no doubt that they believed the whole 
 affair had been conducted with the utmost secrecy 
 made their way down in their stocking feet. 
 
 Grandma Heaven bless her, always devoted, though 
 original never saw a human ill that she did not long 
 to alleviate. So, as Grandpa and I daily refused our 
 food, she affirmed, as her opinion, that the one need of 
 our deranged systems was a clarifier ! And she forth- 
 with prepared a mixture of onions and molasses, with 
 various bitter roots, which latter she, upon her knees, 
 had wrested from the frosty bosom of the earth in an 
 arena immediately adjoining the Ark. Thus I beheld 
 her one wintry day, and wondered greatly what she was 
 at. When I came home from school at night, through 
 a strangely permeated atmosphere, I beheld the clarifier 
 simmering on the stove. 
 
 Grandpa already stood shivering over the fire. He 
 smiled when I came in, but it was a faint and deathly 
 smile the smile of one who has returned, per force, 
 to weak, defenceless infancy. 
 
 Grandma pressed me kindly to partake. I preferred 
 to keep what ills I had, rather than fly to others that 
 I knew not of. So I gently and firmly declined. But 
 for several days in succession, Grandpa was made the 
 victim of this ghastly remedy. 
 
 His sufferings went beyond the power of mad expos- 
 tulation to express, and came nigh to produce upon hfe 
 features the aspect of a saintly resignation.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 141 
 
 Never shall I forget his appearance during this clari- 
 fying period his occasional faint and fleeting attempts 
 at wit his usually hopeless and world-weary air. The 
 wonder to me was that he did not then enter upon a celes- 
 tial state of existence, being eminently fitted to go, as far 
 as the attenuation of his mortal frame was concerned. It 
 was at this time that I wrote home that I had never had 
 Such an appetite before in my life as now in Wallen- 
 Camp (which, in one sense, I felt to be perfectly true) ; 
 that the food was of a most remarkable variety 
 (which I also felt to be true) ; but that it was rather 
 difficult to procure oranges and the like. Whereupon, 
 I received from home a large box, containing all man- 
 ner of pleasant fruits, and thus poor old Grandpa Keeler 
 and I were enabled to take a new lease of life. 
 
 I found that it was considered indispensable to the 
 proper discharge of my duties in Wallencamp that I 
 should make frequent calls on the parents of my flock, 
 throughout the entire community. If I failed in any 
 measure in this respect, they reproached me with being 
 "unsociable," and said; "Seems to me you ain't very 
 neighborly, teacher." 
 
 I had called myself a student of human nature. It 
 seemed to me, now, that in those dingy Wallencamp 
 houses, I stood for the first time, awed and delighted 
 before the real article. Sometimes the men sent out 
 great volumes of smoke from their pipes, in the low 
 rooms, that were not delightful ; but as far as they 
 knew, they exerted themselves to the utmost, men and 
 women both, to make their homes pleasant and attract- 
 ive to me. 
 
 Godfrey Cradlebow's place was as small and ^oor as
 
 142 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 any. There was one room that served as kitchen, 
 dining-room, and parlor, with a corresponding medley 
 of furniture. A very finely chased gold watch hung 
 against the loose brown boards of the wall a reminder 
 of Godfrey Cradlebow's youth. But what distinguished 
 this house from all the others, was the profusion of 
 books it contained. There were books on the tables, 
 books under the tables, books piled up in the corner 
 of the room. 
 
 Godfrey Cradlebow himself was confined in-doors 
 much of the time with the rheumatism. He made nets 
 for the fishermen. I used to like to watch his fingers 
 moving deftly while he talked. 
 
 Things having gone wrong with him, and he having 
 suffered much acute physical pain, besides (that was 
 evident from the manner in which his stalwart frame had 
 been bent with his disease) he had " taken to drink," not 
 excessively, but he seemed to be, most of the time, in a 
 lightly inebriated condition. He was a strange and 
 fluent talker, often ecstatic. 
 
 " It is commonly believed, Miss Hungerford," he said 
 to me, once ; " that we start on the summit of life, that 
 we descend into the valley, that the sun is westering ; 
 but as for me, I seem to look far below there on the 
 mists and dew of earlier years. I walk among the hills. 
 The horizon widens. The air grows thin. I see the 
 solemn streaks of dawn appearing through the gloom. 
 Ah," he murmured, again ; " weak and erring though I 
 undoubtedly am, I have a kinship with the living Christ. 
 Yes, even such kinship as human worthlessness may 
 have with infinite perfection. People will say to you 
 about here, Miss Hungerford ; ' Oh, never mind Godfrey
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 143 
 
 Cradlebow. He's always being converted, why, he has 
 been converted twenty times already ! ' very true, ay, and 
 a hundred times, and I trust I shall taste the sweets of 
 conversion many times more before I die. I do not 
 believe the soul to be a barren tract, so far removed 
 from the ocean of God's love, that it may be washed by 
 the waves only once in a lifetime, and that, in case of 
 some terrible flood. But I rejoice daily in the sweet 
 and natural return of the tide. How the shores wait for 
 it ! Strewn with weeds and wreck, scorched by the sun, 
 chilled by the night, how it listens for the sound of its 
 coming! until it rushes in ah! roar after roar all- 
 covering, all-hiding, all-embracing ! " 
 
 Godfrey Cradlebow shook his head rapturously, tears 
 rolled down his cheeks, and all the while he went on 
 rapidly with his netting. 
 
 He had the natural tact and grace of a gentleman, 
 and was especially courteous to his wife. This brought 
 down upon him the derision of the Wallencampers, 
 whose conjugal relations were seldom more delicately 
 implied than by a reference " my woman thar' ! " or 
 " my man over thar' ! " with an accompanying jerk of 
 the thumb. 
 
 Lydia, Godfrey Cradlebow's wife, was tall and slight, 
 with dark hair and eyes a perfect face, though worn 
 and sad. She invariably wore over her cotton gown, on 
 occasions when she went out, a very fine, very thin old- 
 fashioned mantilla, bordered with a deep black fringe. 
 This pathetic remnant of gentility, borne rudely about 
 by the Wallencamp winds, with Lydia's refined face and 
 melancholy dark eyes, gave her a very interesting and 
 picturesque appearance ; though I never thought she
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 wore the mantilla during the winter for effect. She was 
 shy, though exceedingly gentle in her manners. At first, 
 I had thought that she avoided me. But one time, when 
 making the round of my parochial calls, I stopped at 
 the Cradlebows', and Mr. Cradlebow discoursing fluently 
 on the Phenomenon, recommended a severe method of 
 discipline as best adapted to his case, I replied, laugh- 
 ingly, that he had better be cautious about making any 
 suggestions of that sort, for Simeon and I were getting 
 to be great friends ; the mother, on whose heart I had 
 had no design, took my hajid at the door, when I went 
 away, in a clinging, almost an affectionate way. 
 
 " You are good to my boys, teacher," she said ; " and 
 I thank you for it. They make you a great deal of 
 trouble." 
 
 " Oh, no," I answered lightly, returning with a sense 
 of pleasure the pressure of her hand, and it was not 
 until afterwards, walking slowly down the lane that I 
 sighed gently, thinking of that troublesome boy who had 
 told me he was going to sea. 
 
 Removed from the world of newspapers, the ordinary 
 active interest in the affairs of church and state, there 
 was a great deal of the lively gadding about, neighborly 
 dropping in element in Wallencamp. This applied to 
 the men equally as well as to the women. I remember 
 that Abbie Ann once put out her washing, and this fact 
 kept the whole social element of Wallencamp on the 
 qui vive for a number of days. 
 
 The caller would appear at the door at any time during 
 the day with a good-natured matter-of-fact " I was a 
 passin' by, and thought I'd drop in a minit, jest to see 
 how ye was gittin' along."
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 145 
 
 " Won't you set ? " would be the cordial response. 
 '' Do set." 
 
 " Wall, I don't know how to spend the time anyway," 
 the visitor would reply ; " there's so many things a drivin' 
 on me." 
 
 But this care-belabored victim of fate usually con- 
 cluded by sitting quite complacently for any length of 
 time. 
 
 When such visitations occurred out of school hours, 
 and I remained up in my room, as I frequently did at 
 first, the droppers in felt very much aggrieved, as though 
 I had wittingly offended the instincts of good society. 
 
 Besides all which, seldom an evening passed that the 
 young people did not come to the Ark en masse to 
 sing. 
 
 Then Madeline or Rebecca, or (very rarely) I pro- 
 pelled a strain of doubtful melody from Madeline's little 
 melodeon, while the singers boys and girls together 
 chimed in, joyfully rendering with a perfect fearlessness 
 of utterance and deep intensity of expression such songs 
 as "Go, bury thy sorrow, the world hath its share/' and 
 " Jesus, keep me near the cross," and " Whiter than 
 snow, yes, whiter than snow ; now wash me, and I shall 
 be whiter than snow." 
 
 They knew no other songs. They would sing through 
 a large proportion of the Moody and Sankey Hymnal in 
 a single evening. 
 
 At first I listened half amused or thoroughly wearied. 
 But, as the strains grew more familiar and I sang occa- 
 sionally with the others, I felt each day more tired and 
 more conscious of my own incompetency. And still the 
 Words rang in my ears ; " I hear the Saviour say, thy
 
 I<4 5 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 strength indeed is small ; " with much about trusting in 
 Him, and his willingness to bear it all. As the wind 
 beat against the Ark on wild nights, so that we could 
 hardly tell which was the wind and which was the roar 
 of the maddened sea, and still those voices chanted 
 hopefully of the " stormless home beyond the river," etc., 
 the words began to strike on something deeper than my 
 physical or intellectual sense, and that not rudely. 
 
 I smiled to catch myself humming them over often, 
 and in the school-room, when I felt that my patience was 
 fast oozing, and I experienced a wild desire to loose the 
 reins and let all go, unconsciously I took refuge in 
 repeating those same simple words, going over with them, 
 again and again, beneath my breath, holding on to them 
 as though they possessed some unknown charm to keep 
 me still and strong. 
 
 I went to the evening meetings. They were held in 
 the school-house, and were very popular in Wallen- 
 camp. 
 
 By some provision of the government on behalf of 
 the Indians, a small meeting-house had been built for 
 those in the vicinity of Wallencamp, and they were also 
 provided with a minister for several months during the 
 year. On this account the Indians rather set themselves 
 up above the benighted Wallencampers, whom govern- 
 ment had not endowed with the privileges of the sanctu- 
 ary, while they, in turn, made derisive allusions to the 
 " Nigger-camp " minister, and regarded with contempt its 
 prescribed means of grace. 
 
 The Indians enjoyed, for part of the time that I was 
 In Wallencamp, the ministrations of a Baptist clergyman, 
 a truly earnest and intelligent man, gifted with a most
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 147 
 
 forceful manner of utterance, but so lean as to present a 
 phenomenal appearance. This good man feared nothing 
 but that he should fail in some part of the performance 
 of his duty. He believed that it was his duty to come 
 over and preach to the Wallencampers also, in their 
 school-house, and he did so. 
 
 I think that the Wallencampers regarded this, on the 
 whole, as a doubtful though entertaining move. 
 
 I do not think that they took any particular pains to 
 harass or annoy the Rev. Mr. Rivers. But they certainly 
 did not restrict themselves in that natural freedom which 
 they always enjoyed on the occasions of their spiritual 
 feasts. 
 
 They attended, as usual the old and the young, the 
 good, the bad, the indifferent, with a lively sprinkling of 
 babies. 
 
 Though not a cold night, they kept the stove gorged 
 with fuel. It roared furiously. They were restless. 
 They made signs audibly expressive of the fact that the 
 air of the room was insufferably close, and very audibly 
 slammed up the windows. They whispered and giggled ; 
 they went out and came in, as they pleased. They 
 drank a great deal of water. I remember particularly, 
 how at the most earnest and affecting part of the Rev. 
 Mr. Rivers' discourse, the immortal Estella, alias the 
 " Modoc," arose in gawky innocence and all good faith 
 from her seat immediately in front of the speaker, and 
 walked to the back part of the room to regale hersell 
 with a draught. 
 
 The Baptist minister discharged a withering and coa 
 scientious reproof at them through his nose. 
 
 Now, for the Wallencampers to be reproved, howerver
 
 148 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 scathingly, by some zealous and inspired individual of 
 their own number, was considered, on the whole, as an 
 apt and appropriate thing, but to be reproved by the 
 " Nigger-camp " minister ! When, after the meeting he 
 walked with the Keeler family back to the Ark, where he 
 had been hospitably entertained, the Wallencamp boys 
 saw us depart in silent wrath, and I feared that treachery 
 lay in wait for the Rev. Mr. Rivers. 
 
 He sat and talked with us at the Ark for an hour or 
 more, perhaps, before bidding us good-night, and during 
 that time I caught glimpses of faces that appeared at 
 the window, and then vanished again instantly 
 familiar faces, expressive of much scornful merriment. 
 Now and then I heard a smothered giggle outside, and 
 a scrambling among the bushes. It was a dark night. 
 When the Rev. Mr. Rivers finally rose to depart, and had 
 got as far as the gate, he became helplessly entangled 
 in a perfect network of small ropes. He could neither 
 advance nor recede. In a pitiable and ignominious con- 
 dition, he called to us for help. 
 
 " Those devilish boys ! " said Grandpa, with religious 
 fervor of tone, at the same time glancing at me with a 
 delighted twinkle in his eye. " I knew they was up to 
 something. I heered 'em out there ; " and he patiently 
 lit his lantern, and went out to cut the minister free ; 
 but the Rev. Mr. Rivers did not come to the Wallen- 
 camp school-house to preach again. 
 
 Among those who looked on with quiet approval at 
 this childish and barbarous performance of the Wallen- 
 camp youth, I learned afterwards, were staid Lovell 
 Barlow and little Bachelor Lot. 
 
 Left to their own spiritual devices, the Wallencampers
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 149 
 
 carried on their evening meetings after methods formerly 
 approved. They rose and talked or prayed or 
 diverted themselves socially or sang. Everything 
 they were moved to do, they did. 
 
 The lame giant, Godfrey Cradlebow, at seasons when 
 the tide came in, would pour forth the utterances of his 
 soul with the most earnest eloquence. At other times, 
 he was morbid and silent, or made skeptical and sneering 
 remarks aside. 
 
 Lovell Barlow, though generally regarded as a believer, 
 had never so far overcome his natural modesty and 
 reserve as to address the Wallencamp meeting. But 
 one night, spurred to make the attempt by some of his 
 malicious and fun-loving compatriots, he surprised us all 
 by rising with a violent motion from his seat, and mak- 
 ing a sudden plunge forward as though his audience 
 were a cold bath, and he had determined to wade in. 
 
 " Boys ! " he began, with a most unnatural ferocious- 
 ness. Then I felt Lovell's eyes fixed on my face. " And 
 girls, too," he added, more gently ; " and girls, too, 
 certainly, / think so ; " he continued ; " / think so." 
 His tone became very feeble. He glanced about with a 
 wild eye for his hat, grasped it, and went out, and I saw 
 him afterwards, through the window, standing like a 
 statue, in the moonlight, with his arms folded, and with 
 a perfectly cold and emotionless cast of countenance. 
 
 Among the professors, Godfrey Cradlebow's mother, 
 Aunt Sibylla, with quite as much fire and less delicacy 
 of expression than characterized the speech of the 
 strange lame man, was always ready to warn, threaten, 
 and exhort. 
 
 Grandpa Keeler, too, though not subjected to the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 renovating and rejuvenating processes of the Sabbath, 
 but just touched up a little here and there, enough to 
 give him a slight " odor of sanctity," and a saving sense 
 of personal discomfort, was always led to the meeting, 
 and kept close by Grandma Keeler's side on the most 
 prominent bench. 
 
 When there was one of those frightful pauses which 
 sometimes occurred even in the cheerful concourse of 
 the Wallencampers, casting a depressing influence 
 over all hearts, Grandma Keeler by a series of covert 
 pokes and nudges, would signify to Grandpa that now 
 was the appointed moment for him to arise and let his 
 light shine. 
 
 And Grandpa Keeler was not a timid man, but sin- 
 the event of his clarification, he had shown a strongei 
 dislike than ever to being pestered, and was abnormally 
 quick to detect and resist any advances of that kind. 
 So his movements on these occasions were marked by 
 an angry deliberation, though the old sea-captain never 
 failed in the end, to arise and " hand in his testimony." 
 
 His remarks were (originally) clear cut and terse. 
 
 "There's no need o' my gittin' up. You all know 
 how I stand " (an admonitory nudge from Grandma) 
 "What's the matter now, ma?" I could hear the old 
 man swear, mentally, but he went on with the amend- 
 ment " or try to. I'm afeered that even the best on 
 us, at some time or nuther, have been up to some 
 devil " (sly, but awfully emphatic nudge from Grandma) 
 " ahem ! we're all born under a cuss ! " persisted Grand- 
 pa, with irate satisfaction. " I've steered through a 
 good many oceans," he continued, more softly, "but 
 thar* ain't none so misty as this a " (porten-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 tous nudge from Grandma,) " as this pesky ocean of 
 Life ! We've got to keep a sharp look-out " (another 
 nudge from Grandma), " ahem, steer clear of the rocks,' 1 
 (persistent nudges from Grandma), "ahem! ahem I 
 trust in God Almighty ! " admitted Grandpa with telling 
 force, and sat down. 
 
 As for Grandma, she was herself always prompt and 
 faithful in the discharge of duty, however trying the 
 circumstances. She was no hypocrite, this dear old 
 soul ! She could not have feigned sentiments which 
 she did not feel, yet it was invariably the case that, as 
 she rose in meeting, her usually cheerful face became in 
 the highest degree tearful and lugubrious. The thought 
 of so many precious souls drifting toward destruction 
 filled her tender heart with woe. She besought them 
 in the gentlest and most persuasive terms to " turn to 
 Jesus." She dwelt long upon His love, standing always 
 with hands reverently clasped before her, and eyes down- 
 cast with awe. 
 
 I used to long to hear her speak. The sound of that 
 low, tender monotone was in itself inexpressibly sooth- 
 ing. But Grandma's tongue had its mild edge, as 
 well. 
 
 Once, when she was speaking, a number of the young 
 people it was a common occurrence rose to go 
 out. 
 
 Grandma went on talking without raising either her 
 voice or her eyes ; but when they had reached the 
 door, " What " said she, in that tone which, though 
 so mild, somehow unaccountably arrested their prog- 
 ress ; " what poor, wanderin' creeturs if your under- 
 standing should give out 1 " meaning, what if you
 
 152 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 should suddenly be deprived of the use of your legs ! 
 ** Have you never heered," she continued; "the story 
 of Antynias and Sapf/ry ? " 
 
 But she did not recount the tale. If possible, she 
 would rather use words of love than of maledic- 
 tion. 
 
 I shall never forget the faithful manner in which she 
 narrated Abraham's intercession with the Lord for So- 
 dom and Gomorrah. 
 
 " And Abraham said to the Lord, ' Periodventure 
 there be fifty righteous found,' he said; 'wiliest thou 
 destroy the city, and them in it? Oh, no! that ain't 
 like the Lord,' he says; 'for to slay the righteous and 
 the wicked together fur be it/ And the Lord says; 
 ' No. If I find fifty righteous I'll spare all the rest,' he 
 says, ' on account o' them fifty,' he says : and Abraham 
 says, ' O Lord, now I've begun,' he says, * and you 
 don't seem so very much put out with me as I expected, 
 I've a good mind to keep on askin' ye a little more, 
 jest to see what ye'll say,' he says; 'O Lord, period- 
 venture what if there shouldn't be but forty-five ? ' he 
 says." 
 
 Grandma went through the list of " periodventures," 
 depicting Abraham's growing fear and obsequiousness 
 in the most tragic manner until she got to the hypothet- 
 ical ten. 
 
 " And Abraham said ; ' O Lord, I know you won't 
 like it this time, but I've gone so fur now, that I'm going 
 to out with't ; and don't don't git put out, O Lord ! 
 and I won't put it one mite lower. Periodventure, O 
 Lord, what if there shouldn't be but ten ? ' and the Lord 
 said, ' If there wasn't but ten, he wouldn't destroy them
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 153 
 
 wicked cities.' Now," continued Grandma, with tearful 
 impressiveness, "if Abraham had even a ventured to 
 put it down one five more, what more chance do you 
 think there'd be for us here in Wallencamp ? " 
 
 After the meeting, Captain Sartell and Bachelor Lot 
 held their usual theological levee, outside the school- 
 house. 
 
 "Wall, Bachelder," said the captain, who always 
 took the initiative with extreme recklessness ; " if it was 
 a goin' to take ten to clear Sodom and Germorrer, how 
 many righteous men do you calkalate it 'ud take ter 
 lift the mortgage off'n this ere peninsheler, eh ? " 
 
 Bachelor Lot was unusually thoughtful. 
 
 " Heh ! " said he, in his thin drawl. " The Lord knevr 
 he was seafe enough knew he'd a been seafe enough if 
 he'd a said tew ; knew he'd a been seafe enough if he'd 
 a said eone, for there's his own statement to the 
 effect heh! that there wasn't a righteous man 
 eanywhere, no, not eone." 
 
 "Not much leeway, that's a fact, Bachelder," said 
 Captain Sartell, who had an embarrassed way, partic- 
 ularly when discussing subjects of a religious nature, of 
 twisting his powerful blonde head about, and swallowing 
 
 very hard. "D d little leeway, I must confess, 
 
 wall all the same for you and me, Bachelder." 
 
 Bachelor Lot smiled a little. 
 
 "Heh! What was it about that couple, Almiry 
 (Grandma Keeler) was tellin' about Antynias and 
 Sapfzry heh, Captain ? What streuck 'em eany way ? 
 It wasn't because they went out o' meetin', was it ? I 
 think it would be a satisfaction to the company, Cap 
 tain, if you would relate the circumstance."
 
 154 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 The brave and honest captain craned his neck about 
 fcrith several hard gulps. 
 
 " Wall, to tell the truth, Bachelder, I ain't quite so 
 well posted with the Old Testament as I be with the 
 New, but," he continued, resolutely, " if it would be any 
 . favor to the company as near as I calkalate, this ere 
 Antynias heered that the Lord was a goin' by, and, as 
 near as I calkalate, he clim' up in a tree to see him 
 pass." The captain writhed fearfully, but did not flinch. 
 " And, as near as I calkalate, he got on to a rotten 
 limb, and it let him down. That is," he remarked, with 
 concluding agony, " as near as I calkalate." 
 
 " Heh ! yees, much obleeged, I'm sure," said Bache- 
 lor Lot. " I, heh ! I recall the anecdote now, perfectly, 
 but wheere wheere was Sapf/ry ?" 
 
 " Wall," the captain gave a gulp that actually brought 
 the tears to his eyes ; " as near as I calkalate, Sapf/ry 
 was under the limb." 
 
 " Certainly," said Bachelor Lot ; " certainly ! and a 
 veery unfortunate poseetion for Sapf/ry it was, too. 
 I weesh you would be so kind as to eenf orm the company 
 in what part of the Sacred Writ this little anecdote is 
 recorded, Captain, as I for one should very much leike 
 to look it up." 
 
 Captain Sartell took a determined step forward. 
 " Look y' here, Bachelder," said he ; "I don't want no 
 hard words betwixt you and me, for there never has 
 been. But a man's word is a man's word, and a man's 
 friends had ought to stick by it, and I want you to 
 understand that, on this ere point, I ain't agoin' to have 
 no lookin' up." 
 
 ** Heh I " Bachelor Lot smiled and nodded his head,
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 155 
 
 cheerfully. " I'd be willing to waeger my life, Captain, 
 that if anybody's made a mistake on this point heh 
 it ain't you." And with this amicable conclusion, the 
 two stars withdrew. 
 
 George Olver sometimes rose in meeting and made 
 a few remarks indicative of a manly spirit and much 
 sound common sense. He was very fond of Rebecca, 
 that was plain. Her continued indifference to him made 
 him sore at heart, and the people in Wallencamp sug- 
 gested that on this account he was more serious than he 
 would otherwise have been. 
 
 As for Rebecca, they said she had given up " seekin* 
 religion," and had returned to the world. She did not 
 rise for prayers any more, and she did not " lead the 
 singin' " any more. And it was true that she seemed 
 to me to have changed, somehow. I knew that she was 
 as girlishly devoted to me as ever, as thoughtful as ever 
 to please me. One Saturday morning, knowing that I 
 had letters in the West Wallen Post Office, which I was 
 anxious to get before Sunday, she walked the whole 
 distance alone to get them, and sent them up to me by 
 one of the school children, so that I should not know 
 who went after them. She was careful lest I should 
 notice any change in her. But I caught a reckless, 
 mocking gleam in her eyes, at times, that had never 
 shone there when I knew her first. She associated more 
 with the "other girls," now. I heard her talking and 
 laughing with them in as loud and careless a tone as 
 their own. She even whispered and laughed in the 
 evening meetings. And this, after all the earnest, seri- 
 ous discourse I had had with her, the "refining," 
 "elevating " influences I had tried to throw around
 
 156 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 having first taken her so graciously under my wing I 
 She knew what belonged to agreeable manners, and the 
 advantage of paying a graceful obedience to the dic- 
 tates of one's moral sense ! Something must be very 
 innately wrong in Rebecca, I thought, something I had 
 not hitherto suspected, else why should she fail in any 
 degree under so admirable a method ! 
 
 " My dear," I said to her : " I am often tempted to 
 do wrong especially because my life has been hitherto 
 so vain and thoughtless but, having resolved to 
 struggle with temptation, and to repel my own selfish 
 inclinations, I will not be content until I come off con- 
 queror ; I will not fall out or loiter by the way ; I have 
 trials and perplexities, but I will not submit to them, nor 
 be driven from my purpose. Now, are you struggling 
 to resist the little temptations that come to you day by 
 day ? Are you striving to make the very best of yourself, 
 Becky?" 
 
 I knew hQw easily I could move Rebecca, either to 
 laughter or tears, so I was not surprised to see her lip 
 tremble, and her eyes fill ; but I was surprised at the 
 look of intense anguish, almost of horror, that came 
 into her face. I had not supposed that she was capable 
 of such strong emotion, and I marvelled greatly, what 
 could be the cause. 
 
 " Oh," she said ; " you don't know, teacher, you don't 
 know ! It never seemed so bad before I knew you. I 
 was different brought up from you, and I loved you, and 
 when I knew, oh, then I could die, but I couldn't tell 
 you ! Oh, you wouldn't kiss me again, ever, if you knew ; 
 and I wish you wouldn't, for it hurts, it hurts worse than 
 if you didn't I "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 157 
 
 Rebecca had turned very pale, and drew her breath in 
 long gasping sobs. 
 
 "Baby!" I said reassuringly, stroking her hair; "I 
 don't believe you have done anything very wrong." But 
 Rebecca drew away from me. 
 
 "You don't know," she said. "I was brought up 
 different and it was before you came, and I never 
 knew that, what you told me about not trusting people. 
 I thought it was all true, and oh ! there ain't anybody 
 to help ! Oh, I wish I was dead ! I wish I was 
 dead ! " 
 
 " Rebecca," I said, a little frightened, and convinced 
 that the girl had some serious trouble at heart. " Tell 
 me what the trouble is? Has any one deceived you? 
 And why should any one wish to deceive you, 
 child?" 
 
 Rebecca only moaned and shook her head. 
 " But you must tell me," I said ; " I can't help you 
 unless you do." 
 
 She drew herself farther away from me, with only these 
 convulsive sobs for a reply. I did not attempt to get 
 nearer to her, to comfort her as it had been my first 
 impulse to do. She had repulsed me once. " You are 
 nervous and excited, my dear," I decided to say ; " and 
 something of little consequence, probably, looks like a 
 mountain of difficulty to you. At any rate, when you get 
 ready to confide in me, you must come to me. I shall 
 not question you again." 
 
 So I left her, less with a feeling of commiseration for 
 her than with a deep sense of my own pressing burdens 
 and responsibilities. 
 
 I had another ex-pupil (Rebecca had been out of school
 
 158 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 for several weeks), who was a source of considerable 
 anxiety to me Luther Larkin. He had ceased coming 
 to the Ark to sing with the others. He had not played 
 on his violin since that first night when the string 
 broke. 
 
 I heard that he had gone to New Bedford ; and it was 
 a day or two afterwards that, coming out of the school- 
 house after the meeting, I saw him standing on the steps 
 alone. I knew that an escort from among the Wallen- 
 camp youths was close behind me. I hastened to put 
 my hand on Luther's arm. 
 
 " Will you walk home with me?" I said, looking up 
 in his face and smiling. I knew that the face lifted to 
 his then was a beautiful one, that the hand resting on 
 his arm was small and daintily gloved, unlike the bare 
 coarse hands of the Wallencampers. I knew that my 
 dress had an air and a grace also foreign to Wallencamp, 
 that a delicate perfume went up from my garments, that 
 my voice was more than usually winning. I experienced 
 a dangerous sense of satisfaction in the conquest of this 
 unsophisticated youth a conquest not wholly without 
 its retributive pain and intoxication. 
 
 I felt the Cradlebow's arm tremble as we walked up 
 the lane. 
 
 " I have a little private lecture to give you, Luther," 
 I said. " Of course you have been very much absorbed 
 in your own affairs lately, but is that an excuse for for- 
 saking your old friends entirely ? Especially if you are 
 going away. Are you going away ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Luther. 
 
 "When?" I asked. 
 
 " In April," he answered briefly.
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 g 
 
 w 
 
 a 
 
 9 
 
 w 
 H
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 159 
 
 u And weren't you ever coming to see me, again ? " I 
 murmured with designing soft reproach. 
 
 " I was coming up by and by, to say good-bye," said 
 Luther, brokenly. 
 
 " Only for that ? " I questioned, and sighed with a 
 perfect abandonment of rectitude and good faith to the 
 selfish gratification of that moment 
 
 " What else should I come up for ? " he exclaimed, 
 breaking out into sudden passion. " Except to tell you 
 what you don't want to hear ; that I love you, teacher, 
 I love you." 
 
 " Oh, hush ! " I cried with a little accent of unaffected 
 pain. " It isn't right for me to let you talk to me in 
 that way, Luther. Oh, don't you see? you're nothing 
 but a boy to me ! " 
 
 " That's a lie ! " the boy replied, with face and eyes 
 aflame. " And because I am poor, and because I am 
 more ignorant than you, you make it an excuse to trifle 
 with me and you look only to the outside, but you 
 know I have lived as long as you a boy's head, you 
 mean," he went on with choking, fiery bitterness. " And 
 it may be, and you are very kind, God knows ! But I 
 can tell you one thing, teacher, it isn't a boy's heart for 
 you to put your foot on ! " 
 
 It was not a boy's strength in the quivering frame 
 and tense, drawn muscles. In his rare passions I ad- 
 mired Lute Cradlebow. 
 
 The greater meekness and patience which always 
 followed, I attributed to a lack of perseverance or a too 
 easy abandonment of purpose. 
 
 " I hope you will be very happy all your life through,
 
 l6o CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 teacher ; " he said, as we stood at the door of the Ark ; 
 and he spoke very gently, and as though he was going 
 away then forever. Madeline had the key; she and 
 her companions had lingered at the school-house, as 
 usual, after the meeting. I murmured something about 
 being very happy to have such a kind, true friend ; that 
 I should probably leave Wallencamp before he went to 
 sea, but I hoped he would write me about his wander- 
 ings over the world, and I should always be happy to 
 answer and give him my sisterly advice. 
 
 Luther continued, thoughtfully, almost smiling: 
 
 " You remember that night, teacher, ever so long ago 
 it seems, before I knew you, when the boys dragged me 
 into the Ark and I kissed you ? I've always kissed the 
 girls when they come home from anywhere, and I never 
 thought, you know. I didn't mean anything by it." 
 
 " Yes," I said. I think I must have looked amused. 
 Luther answered the laugh in my eyes with quiet appre- 
 ciation. 
 
 " Well, teacher," he said ; " I should like to kiss you 
 just once to-night, and mean it." 
 
 " That's a remarkable request," I said ; " to come from 
 my oldest pupil ; but it is my privilege to bestow, just 
 once. If you will bend down from your commanding 
 height, and put yourself in an humble and submissive 
 attitude before me." 
 
 The Cradlebow knelt on the doorstep. I would have 
 stooped to his forehead, but he put up his arm with an 
 extremely boyish, inoffensive gesture, almost with a sob, 
 I thought, to draw me closer. 
 
 I would have had that kiss as passionless as though
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. l6t 
 
 it had been given to a child. The Cradlebow's breath 
 was pure upon my cheek but I was compelled to feel 
 the answering flame creep slowly in my own blood. 
 
 " Never ask me to do that again ! " I exclaimed, in 
 righteous exculpation of the acL " Never i '
 
 162 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 FESTIVITIES AT THE ARK. 
 
 from the beach, lightly tripping, capacious 
 reticule in hand, came Mrs. Barlow to spend 
 the day at the Ark, unexpectedly! The in- 
 spired and felicitous customs of the Wallencampers 
 admitted of no rude surprises ; rational joy, alone, per- 
 vaded the Ark at this matutinal advent. 
 
 Mrs. Barlow, Lovell's mother, presented a charmingly 
 antique appearance antique not in the sense of ad- 
 vanced years, but the young antique the gay, the 
 lively, the never-fading antique. She had even a girlish 
 way of simpering and uttering absurdly rapturous ex- 
 clamations. Her face might have struck one at first as 
 being of a strangely elongated cast, but for its extreme 
 prettiness and simplicity of expression. Her nose was 
 marked by a becoming scallop or two. Her eyes were 
 of the ocean blue. Her dark hair was arranged, be- 
 hind, in the simplest and most compact manner possible 
 but, in front, art held delightful play. There, it was 
 parted, slightly to the left, over a broad, high forehead, 
 and disposed in braids of eight strands each, gracefully 
 and lovingly looped over Mrs. Barlow's ears. 
 
 The tide of cheerful converse was at its full when I 
 came from school to lunch. Amid this preponderance
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 163 
 
 of female society, my friend, Grandpa, shone with an 
 ardent though faintly tolerated light, giving to the 
 lively flow of the discourse, an occasional salty and com- 
 prehensive flavor, which dear Grandma Keeler held her- 
 self ever in calm and religious readiness to restrain. 
 
 I listened, intensely interested, to the conversation, 
 quite content, for my own part, to keep silence ; but I 
 caught Mrs. Barlow's eye fixed on me as if in abstracted, 
 beatific thought. Soon was made known the result of 
 her meditation. She had concluded that I was incapable 
 of descending to subjects of an ordinary nature. Lean- 
 ing far forward on the table, with a smile more ecstatic 
 than any that had gone before, she directed these words 
 at me in a clear, swift-flowing treble : 
 
 " Oh, ain't it dreadful about them poor delewded 
 Mormons ? " 
 
 " Why ? " I exclaimed, involuntarily, blinded by the 
 absolute unexpectedness of the question, and not know- 
 ing, in a dearth of daily papers, but that the infatuated 
 people alluded to had been swallowed up of an earth- 
 quake, or fallen in a body into the Great Salt Lake. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! " said Mrs. Barlow ; " only I think it's 
 dreadful, don't yew, settin' such an example to Christian 
 nations ? " 
 
 " Dreadful ! certainly ! " I murmured, with intense 
 relief, and allowed my glasses to drop into my lap 
 again. 
 
 Thus the conversation turned to subjects of a religious 
 nature. 
 
 "Oh, I think it's so nice to have direct dealin's with 
 the Almighty ; don't yew ? " said Mrs. Barlow. " Oh, I 
 think it is 1 Brother Mark Barlow says he can hear the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Lord speakin* to him jest as plain as they could in Old 
 Testament times ; oh, yes, jest as plain exactly ; Abra- 
 ham and all them, yew know ! And Brother Mark Bar- 
 low generally means to go to Sunday school. He says 
 he thinks it's so interestin' ; but it's sich an awful ways. 
 Don't yew think it is ? Oh, yes, it's a dreadful ways ! He 
 don't always. But yew remember that Saturday we had 
 sich a dreadful storm ? oh, wasn't it dreadful ! Oh, yes ! 
 Well, the next day, that was Sunday, Brother Mark Bar- 
 low said he heard the Lord sayin' to him, jest as plain 
 as day ; ' Mark Barlow, don't you go to Sunday school 
 to-day ! You stay home and pick up laths ! ' and he did, 
 and oh, he got a dreadful pile ! most ten dollars worth ; 
 but I think it's so nice, don't yew, to have direct dealin's 
 with the Almighty ! " 
 
 The Barlows, by the way, were regarded with a sort or 
 contemptuous toleration by the Wallencampers in gene- 
 ral, on account of their thrift and penuriousness, the 
 branded qualities of sordid and unpoetic natures. 
 
 I was sorry when the brief hour of the noon inter- 
 mission was over, and I had to go back to school. 
 
 But at night the Ark became alive. Soon after supper, 
 Mr. Barlow arrived and " Brother Mark Barlow " and 
 Lovell. Then the little room began to fill rapidly. We 
 adjourned to the " parlor " and the melodeon. 
 
 "Oh, I do think them plaster Paris picters are so 
 beautiful, don't yew ? " said Mrs. Barlow, enraptured 
 over a statuette or two of that truly vague description, 
 which adorned the mantelpiece. But she became per- 
 fectly lost in delight when Lovell began to sing. 
 
 Lovell's was the one execrable voice among the Wal- 
 lencampers if anything so weak could be designated
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 165 
 
 by so strong a term and his manner of keeping time 
 \rith his head was clock-like in its regularity and painfully 
 arduous ; yet, out of that pristine naughtiness which found 
 a hiding-place in the hearts of the Wallencamp youth, 
 Lovell was frequently encouraged to come to the front 
 during their musicals, and if not actually beguiled into 
 executing a solo, was generously applauded in the per- 
 formance of minor parts. There was comfort, however, 
 in the reflection that if Lovell had indeed possessed 
 the tuneful gift of a Heaven-elected artist, he could not 
 have been so supremely confident of the merit of his own 
 performances, nor could his mother have been more 
 delighted at their brilliancy. She sat with hands clasped 
 in her lap and gazed at her manly offspring. 
 
 " Oh, I do think it's so beautiful ! " she murmured 
 occasionally to me, aside. " Oh, yes, ain't it beauti- 
 ful?" 
 
 Once, she remarked hi greater confidence ; " Oh, he's 
 dreadful wild ! " 
 
 " Lovell ? " I inquired, with impulsive incredulity. 
 
 " Oh, dreadful ! " she continued, " I don't know what 
 he'd ben if we hadn't always restrained him. But 
 somehow, I think there's something dreadful bewitchin* 
 about such folks. Don't yew ? " 
 
 " Very," I answered with vague, though ardent sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 " Oh, dreadful ! " she responded. 
 
 Meanwhile the perspiration stood out on Lovell's grave 
 countenance, and his head, like a laborious sledge-ham- 
 mer, was swaying mechanically backward and forward. 
 
 " Sing bass, now, Lovell," said Mrs. Barlow ; and the 
 expression of awed delight and expectancy on her face,
 
 156 CAPE COD FOLK'S. 
 
 as she uttered these words, was a rebuke to all cynic* 
 and unbelievers of any sort whatever. 
 
 " Yes'm, so I will, certainly," said Lovell ; " so I will, 
 and if I hadn't got such a cold, I'd come down heavy 
 on it too." 
 
 " What do you think ? " Mrs. Barlow went on in the 
 same confidential aside to me ; " he's took it into his 
 head that he wants to get married ! Oh, yes, he has 
 really ! and I think it's a wonder he never got set on it 
 before. But he never has so but what we could restrain 
 him. But William and I, we're beginning to think he 
 might as well if he wants to. Oh, yes, I think it will 
 be so nice. Don't yew ? I think it will be just splendid ! 
 And I tell William, Lovell's wife shan't do nothing but 
 set in the parlor and fold her hands, if she don't want to ; 
 and she shall have a music, and everything. When we 
 built our new house, you know we used to live in that 
 little house that Brother Mark Barlow lives in now, oh, 
 yes, and I think it's so nice to have a new house, don't 
 yew ? I had 'em make the window seats low on purpose, 
 so that Lovell's children could sit on them ! Oh, I 
 think it will be so pleasant, don't yew ? " 
 
 Mrs. Barlow turned her enraptured gaze on me. 
 
 " Lovell's wife," I hastened to reply, toying with my 
 glasses ; "whoever she maybe, is certainly to be envied 
 and Lovell's children, too " I added, induced by 
 that transcendently beaming smile ; " who will have such 
 a broad window seat to sit on." 
 
 Never an evening began in heartier fashion at the 
 Ark. 
 
 George Olver, standing next to Rebecca, rolled out a 
 grand and powerful bass.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 167 
 
 Lars Thorjon, the Norwegian, maintained a smiling 
 silence, except when he was giving utterance in song to 
 his inspiring tenor. 
 
 Madeline played the " music." 
 
 I saw her wince sometimes, when the fine though un- 
 tutored voices around her took on a too wild and 
 exuberant strain. The little woman's own voice was 
 exceedingly gentle and refined ; more than that, it had 
 a passionately sweet, sad tone, a rare pathos. I used to 
 wonder what there was in Madeline's heart what 
 there had been in her life to make her sing so. Then 
 I remembered how easy it was for her to get out of 
 temper, and how often she slapped the children, and 
 I concluded that it was only a voice after all, and 
 not necessarily indicative of any inward sentiment or 
 emotion. 
 
 And the mischievous Harvey Dole could it be the 
 same youth who stood there now with tearful eyes, 
 chanting his longings to be pure and sanctified and 
 heavenly. This merry youth had a predilection for 
 those religious songs which contained the deepest and 
 saddest sentiment. 
 
 "Now, what's the matter with you, Harvey?" said 
 Emily Gaskell, who had but just dropped in. "You 
 know you'll go along hum to-night stunin' my catsl 
 You know what a precious nice time you're calculatin* 
 to have, about two months from now, up in my trees 
 stealin' my peaches, you young devil. ' Wash you from 
 your sins ! ' Humph ! Yes, you need it bad enough, 
 Lord knows! A good poundin', and boilin', and 
 sudzin', you need and a good soakin'in the bluein' 
 water over night, too."
 
 168 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Emily's eyes sparkled with keen though good-natured 
 satire. There was a flood of crimson color in hei 
 cheeks, not entirely the effect of her brisk walk in the 
 open air. She had a spasm of coughing, which she 
 endured as though such discomforts had become quite 
 a matter of course, merely remarking when she had 
 recovered herself sufficiently to speak : 
 
 " Thar', that'll last me for one spell, I guess." 
 
 " Won't you set, Emily ? " said Grandma, 
 
 " No," said Emily. " I can't. I jest come up to tell 
 my man, there, to go home ! Levi is over from West 
 Wallen, and wants to see him. Lord, I didn't knovr 
 you'd got a party, Miss Keeler ! " she continued, glanc- 
 ing with an irresistibly comical expression about the 
 room. 
 
 "Oh, no! we ain't got no party," said Grandma 
 Keeler, pleasantly. "They jest happened to drop in 
 along." 
 
 " Wall now, I should think there'd ben a shower and 
 rained 'em all down at once :" again surveying the 
 occupants of the room with a comprehensively critical 
 air that was hardly flattering. 
 
 " I don't see what on 'arth ! " she went on. " Half 
 the time you might ransack Wallencamp from top to 
 bottom, and you'd find everybody a'most somewhere, 
 and nobody to hum ! It ain't much like the cake Silvy 
 made last week she's crazier than ever 'Where's 
 the raisins, Silvy ? ' says I I always make it chock full 
 of 'em, and there wasn't one, ' Oh,' says Silvy, 
 ' I mixed 'em up so thorough you can't a hardly find 
 'em/ * I guess that's jest about the way the Lord put 
 Ihe idees into your head, Silvy,' says I. 'Bless the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 169 
 
 Lord!' says that poor fool, as slow and solemn as a 
 minister." 
 
 "We've been a singin'," interposed Grandma Keeler 
 in a voice that contrasted with Emily's, like the flow of 
 a great calm river with the impatient fall of a cataract. 
 "It seems a' most as though I'd been in Heaven. 
 They was jest a singin' ' The Light of the World is 
 Jesus.' I shall never forgit, when I was down to camp- 
 meetin' to Marthy's Vin'yard a good while ago there 
 was a little blind boy stood up on a bench and sung it 
 all alone ; and it made me cry to see him standin' there 
 with his poor little white face, and eyes that couldn't 
 see a' one of all the faces lookin' up to him, a singin' 
 that out as bold and free, and he did pronounce the 
 words so beautiful so as everybody could hear I can 
 hear him a singin' of it out, now ' The Light of the 
 World is Jesus.' And I suppose we git to thinkin' that 
 the light's in our eyes, maybe, or the light's in the 
 sun, or the light's in the lamp, maybe. But you might 
 put out my eyes," said Grandma Keeler, closing 
 her eyes as she spoke, and looking very peaceful and 
 happy "and you might put out the sun, and you 
 might put out the lamp, and say 'Thar', Almiry's 
 all in the dark room, she can't see nothin' now' 
 but the Light of the World 'ud be thar jest the same, 
 you couldn't put out the light 'The Light of the 
 World is Jesus.' " 
 
 " Oh, I didn't know ye was havin' a meetin'," said 
 Emily Gaskell, mockingly. 
 
 "No more we ain't, Emily," said Grandma Keeler, 
 "We was jest cheerin' ourselves up a little, singin 1 
 about home. Come you, now, and sing with us " :
 
 170 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 11 We're goin' home, 
 No more to roam." 
 
 With eyes still closed, with head thrown back, and a 
 heavenly serene expression on her face, Grandma began 
 the refrain, while Madeline struck the chords on the 
 melodeon, and the singers took up the words with a 
 hearty cheer: 
 
 " We're goin' home, 
 
 No more to roam, 
 No more to sin and sorrow; 
 
 No more to wear 
 
 The brow of care, 
 We're go<n' home to-morrow." 
 
 Then the chorus, "We're going home," joyfully re- 
 peated, died away at last, more plaintively, "We're 
 going home to-morrow." 
 
 " Wall, I'm goin' home to-night," said Emily, and, as 
 I looked up at her, I caught the same mischievous 
 gleam in her unsoftened eyes. " So strike up something 
 lively now, and I'll waltz down the lane to it. 'Are 
 your windows open towards Jerusalem ?' Lord, can't 
 you think o' something warmer than that for this 
 weather ? " 
 
 But the singers were going on gloriously : 
 
 " Are your windows open towards Jerusalem ? 
 
 Though as captives here a little while we stay 
 For the coming of the King in His glory, 
 Are you watching, day by day ? " 
 
 Emily tightened the shawl around her neck with a 
 quick motion. In going out, she took an indirect course 
 through the room, purposely to pass by where I was 
 sitting.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 171 
 
 " Are your windows open towards Jerusalem ? " said 
 she, stooping and whispering in my ear : " Dave 
 Rollin's out there hangin' onto the fence one side the 
 bushes, and Lute Cradlebow the other, and they don't 
 see each other no more than two bats." 
 
 " Are your windows open towards Jerusalem " was a 
 favorite with the Wallencampers. On this occasion- 
 they repeated it several times. Captain Sartell and 
 Bachelor Lot, who had been engaging in a game of 
 checkers in the little kitchen, left the board as the well- 
 loved strains greeted their ears, and came in to join the 
 group. 
 
 Grandpa had been consigned to the kitchen stove, 
 with a corn-popper. I do not think that he regretted 
 being removed, somewhat, from the more inspiring 
 scenes which animated the Ark. I was amused to 
 follow, with my ear, the old gentleman's progress in the 
 successive stages of his corn-shelling and corn-popping 
 operations with certain contingent misfortunes, as when 
 he went into the pantry to look for a pan, and brought 
 down a large quantity of tin-ware clanging about his 
 ears, and rolling in all directions over the floor, while I 
 immediately inferred from the tones of his voice that he 
 was enjoying a little unembarrassed colloquy with the 
 powers of darkness. Once, in his shuffling peregri- 
 nations, he tipped over the little bench which sustained 
 the water-pail. A deep sigh of horror and despair 
 escaped his lips, and was followed by a "What the 
 Devil ! " borne in upon the song-laden air with unmis- 
 takable force and distinctness. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, ma," said Madeline, looking up 
 sharply ; " what can pa be a' doin' ? "
 
 172 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 "Oh," calmly said Grandma Keeler, "I guess he's 
 only settlin' down." 
 
 And with Grandma, indeed, the turmoils of this sub- 
 lunary sphere implied only a vast ultimate settling 
 down. 
 
 But if such deep rest came to Grandpa, it was only as 
 a dream from which he was soon to be rudely awakened. 
 
 The sound of his footsteps had ceased. I knew that 
 he was seated in his chair by the fire, and I heard the 
 long-handled popper shaken back and forth upon the 
 stove, at first as if moved by the power of a steadfast 
 purpose. But the sound grew fainter, the motions less 
 regular. They were several times desperately renewed, 
 and then ceased altogether, so quickly had Grandpa 
 soared beyond the low vicissitudes of a corn-popping 
 world. Soon a burning smell arose. Then the door 
 of the kitchen opened. Grandpa was startled. I knew 
 the catastrophe. The corn-popper with its contents had 
 been precipitated to the floor. Then I heard a 
 courteous male voice, with just a touch of suppressed 
 merriment in it : 
 
 ** Never mind, Captain ! small business for you, steer- 
 ing such a slim craft as that, eh ? On a red-hot, stove, 
 too!" 
 
 "Humph! Topmast heavier than the hull," replied 
 Grandpa, accepting with gratitude, in this extremity, the 
 sympathy of the new-comer. 
 
 The other gave a low laugh. 
 
 " Never mind, Captain ! he repeated, " we'll have it 
 slick here in a minute. Let me take the broom. You've 
 got it wrong side up. By Harry, we've got the deluge 
 inside the Ark this time, Captain ! "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 173 
 
 "Tarnal water-pail slipped moorin's," confessed 
 Grandpa. 
 
 Then followed a vigorous sound of corn rattling, and 
 water swashing against the sides of the room, and I 
 knew that Mr. Rollin, the elegant, was sweeping out 
 the kitchen of the Ark. 
 
 "I guess they's somebody else come," exclaimed 
 Grandma, with hospitable glee. " Wall, I declare for't. 
 I guess I'll go out into my kitchen and git that little 
 no-back cheer. Seems to me as though we'd got all the 
 rest on 'em in use, pretty much." 
 
 "I'll go, ma," said Madeline. "Teacher'll be 
 wanted to play now, and may be she will, though she 
 can't be got to do it for common folks." 
 
 I did not enjoy playing on Madeline's melodeon. 
 Any performances of that kind which I had undertaken 
 had been confined exclusively to an audience of the 
 Wallencampers. I had certainly never made an ex- 
 ception for the amusement of the fisherman. But 
 I flattered myself that there was no trace of resentment 
 in my tone when I said, " Sit still, Madeline, please, I 
 know where the chair is. Don't I, Grandma ? " and 
 was groping my way out through the green curtained 
 " keepin' " rooms, towards Grandma's culinary apart- 
 ment, thankful for a momentary escape from the heated 
 atmosphere of the " parlor," when I heard just behind 
 me a voice of the most exquisite smoothness : 
 
 " Miss Hungerford, allow me." 
 
 " Mr. Rollin ! " I exclaimed, with an overwhelming 
 sense of the ludicrousness of the situation : " How dared 
 you come through the room where they were all sitting 
 and follow me out here! Did Grandma tell you that
 
 174 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 I had gone after a little no-back chair for you to sit 
 on?" 
 
 "She did," replied Mr. Rollin, with impressive 
 gravity : " and I took it as most divinely kind of you, 
 too ; though, if I might be allowed any choice in the 
 matter, I think I should be likely to assume a much 
 more graceful and more easeful and natural position in 
 a chair constructed after the ordinary pattern, Miss 
 Hungerford, especially as after my exertions in the 
 kitchen I feel the need of entire repose." 
 
 " But this is the only one left," I answered, with sup- 
 pressed laughter. " Do you think you can find it, Mr. 
 Rollin ? " 
 
 " If you should leave me now," replied the fisherman ; 
 " I should have positively no idea whither to direct my 
 steps." 
 
 "Then I shall be very happy to get it for you," I 
 said. 
 
 " But I could not think," he continued, " of allowing 
 you to pursue your way through this utter darkness to 
 the extreme rear of the Ark alone. I beg you to show 
 me the way." 
 
 I was not disposed to commit so gross an impropriety 
 as to linger with Mr. Rollin in " Grandma's kitchen," 
 which we had reached, and through whose broad, 
 uncurtained windows the moonlight was pouring in 
 with a clear, fantastic radiance. 
 
 " Isn't this glorious ! " exclaimed the fisherman, in a 
 tone nearly as rapturous as Mrs. Barlow's own. " Oh, 
 you don't think of going back now, Miss Hungerford ! 
 After I've mopped the kitchen floor, and braved all 
 Wallencamp in its lair, and groped my way out through
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 175 
 
 those infernally black rooms, for the chance of having a 
 few quiet words with you." 
 
 Mr. Rollin's eyes were not snaky, nor his manner 
 suggestive of dark duplicity ; yet I always felt a certain 
 unaccountable discomfort while in his presence, as 
 though there was need of keeping my own conscience 
 particularly on the alert. 
 
 I knew that the group in the parlor would be counting 
 the moments of our absence. 
 
 "How can you ask me " I began, in a tone of 
 cheerful remonstrance, at the same time readjusting my 
 glasses to glance about for the little " no-back " chair 
 " How can you ask me to stay out here talking with 
 you, when you know " 
 
 " Oh, I know," Mr. Rollin interrupted quickly. " I 
 know how very thoughtful and considerate you are for 
 those people, Miss Hungerford. I know what lofty 
 ideas you have just now of consecrating yourself to 
 the work of refining and elevating the Wallencampers. 
 I know how coolly you can fix your eyes on a certain 
 goal, and stumble indiscriminately over everything that 
 comes in your way. I know what a deucedly superior 
 state of mind you've gotten into. I know too about 
 Miss B's school, and Miss L's school, and the Seminary 
 at Mount Blank, and the winters in New York." 
 
 There was triumph at last, in Mr. Rollin's tone. 
 
 " You have taken pains to collect a great deal of 
 information about me ; " I replied, virtuously conclud- 
 ing that I should disappoint the fisherman more by not 
 appearing vexed. 
 
 " Is it strange ? " he continued earnestly, with an 
 unconscious parody on his usually suave and insinuat-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 ing manner. " You will allow, Miss Hungerford, tl*it 
 you might strike one, at first, as not being exactly in 
 the ordinary line of home missionaries, that is, as not 
 having been trained for the work, exactly; a sort of 
 novitiate, I mean confound it 1 You will allow that 
 you might strike one at first, as being deucedly new in 
 that rble" 
 
 After this, I smiled with a faintly malicious sense of 
 satisfaction at Mr. Rollin's confusion, though I felt that 
 I had been cut to the heart. 
 
 " And when I spoke about having found out about 
 your past life," he went on, struggling desperately with 
 his lost cause ; " I did not mean that there was anything 
 bad, you know ; only that you sought pleasant diver- 
 sions in common with the rest of humanity, and enjoyed 
 the Heaven-born instinct of knowing how to have a 
 good time, and weren't always the ambitious recluse 
 and religious devotee that you choose to be just at 
 present ; though I've sometimes wished that I could 
 turn saint so all of a sudden, but I couldn't," added 
 the fisherman, despondently ; " if I should go to the 
 ends of the earth in that capacity, nobody 'd take any 
 stock in me, whatever ; and, after all, what does it 
 amount to ? 
 
 " This isn't what I meant to say, any of it ; " he 
 sighed angrily. " It's just what I meant not to say 
 confound it ! You've done gloriously ; you've played 
 the thing through to perfection ; you've made an inimi- 
 table success of it ; but Wallencamp doesn't offer 
 scope wide enough for your powers. I offer you a 
 field hitherto untilled, left to the wandering winds and 
 the birds of the air, extensive enough in its forlon?
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 177 
 
 iniquity, I assure you, to engage your patient and conr 
 tinued efforts. It may prove productive of good results 
 yet, who knows ? Is it my fault that I didn't know you 
 sooner ? " 
 
 I did not mistake the change in Mr. Rollin's tone, 
 nor the meaning in his eyes, but as we stood there by 
 the window, in the full moonlight, I caught a glimpse 
 of another face outside, vanishing up the lane almost 
 like a ghostly apparition it seemed to me the hand- 
 some pale young face. I guessed instinctively whose 
 it was, and suffered a pang of sharp, unconfessed pain, 
 while the fisherman was murmuring in my ear. 
 
 " Don't speak to me again of missions ! " I cried 
 with the strong and tragic air of consciously blighted 
 aspirations. " I shall go on no more missions, great 
 or small. It is very true what you have tried so deli- 
 cately to intimate. I was not fit for the work I under- 
 took to do. I have only made mistakes all the way 
 along. Possibly I have been only 'playing a part.' 
 What does it amount to, indeed ! What does it amount 
 to!" 
 
 " Heavens ! " said Mr. Rollin ; " play a part, by all 
 means ; never be sincere in anything you do. I never 
 tried it but once, and I've made a desperate mess of it 
 Can't you understand that what I said was only in the 
 purest sort of self-defence ? You weigh my words so 
 nicely. Well, you are considerate enough, God knows, 
 of those dirty brats and ignorant louts coddling that 
 girl, Rebecca, who is a good-hearted creature enough, 
 but not fit for respctable people to touch their hands 
 to ; and associating with such conceited boors as thai 
 George Olver, and that grinning clown, Harvey, and
 
 1 7 8 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS, 
 
 that poor fool, Lovell Barlow, and that what-d'ye-ca!V 
 him that fiddling young devil with the bird-like 
 name " 
 
 Mr. Rollin stopped suddenly. 
 
 "You might make allowances for a man in a pas- 
 sion," he said ; " instead of dissecting his words in 
 that cold-blooded way." 
 
 " I had no notion of dissecting your words," I said, 
 provoked into a desperate honesty ; " I believe them, as 
 a whole, to be utterly false." 
 
 " From the very beginning," said Mr. Rollin ; " thank 
 you ; so I can begin all over again ; meanwhile, you 
 will forgive me ? Imagine that I'm one of those dirty 
 little beggars that go to school to you. If one of them 
 should come to you and say that he was sorry ? " 
 
 " I should only be intensely surprised," I said ; " they 
 never do such things." 
 
 " Then I have a superior claim on your clemency," 
 said the fisherman ; " for I am sorry and humiliate my 
 soul to the lowest depths of the confessional." 
 
 It was the voice of the plausible, easy-going fisher- 
 man again. 
 
 My hand was on the latch. " I am not angry ; I 
 would rather be friends," I said with averted face, as 
 we were returning through the dark " keepin'-rooms." 
 
 " When you get out of this realm of myths and mis- 
 sions, and general dread and discomfort," said Mr. 
 Rollin, "on to comprehensible soil again, where ordi- 
 nary sinners are sure of some sort of a footing, and 
 bad as a fellow is he knows there are plenty more like 
 him, then I shan't appear to you in such a deucedly 
 poor light as I do now, a doubtful sort of pearl in a
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 179 
 
 setting of isolated cedars, with my beauty and my 
 genius and my heavenly aspirations all unappreciated, 
 or made to descend as a greater measure of condem- 
 nation on my devoted auburn head. Truly, I believe 
 that an evil star attends my course in Wallencamp. 
 My own ideas seem strange to me. I cannot grasp 
 them. My language is wild and disconnected, I fancy, 
 like that of the early Norse poets. When I meet you 
 in the world, I shall hope to recover some of the old- 
 time coherence and felicity of speech which I remem- 
 ber to have heard practised among the world's people ; 
 and it isn't long now, thank Heaven, before you'll leave 
 Wallencamp behind you. When you go home " 
 
 When I should go home, indeed ! I had hardly dared 
 to cherish the thought. I stifled the rising flood of ex- 
 ultation in my breast but how pale and interesting I 
 should look ! And, then, I would describe Wallencamp 
 to my own loving friends as it really was, and what a 
 lion they would make of me ! Had they not always 
 lionized my virtuous efforts to the fullest extent ! 
 
 My face must have been very happy in the dark. I 
 felt even almost kindly towards Mr. Rollin. We were 
 at the last door. As we entered the lighted room, 
 Grandma's broad face began to beam with slow sur- 
 prise. "Why," said she; "where's the little no-back 
 cheer?" 
 
 Mr. Rollin's resources in such extremities usually 
 bespoke a lifetime of patient and adroit application, 
 but now he hesitated. The accumulated glory of years 
 seemed likely to be wrecked on the phantom of a little 
 no-back chair. 
 
 " Moonstruck ? Eh, Mr. Rollin ? " inquired Harvey 
 Dole.
 
 l8o CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 The fisherman regarded Harvey with a smile of quiet 
 and amused sufferance. 
 
 " Ah ! Mrs. Keeler," said he, with a graceful bow in 
 Grandma's direction ; " Mrs. Philander did me the 
 honor when I came in, to ask me to stand up with the 
 singers at the melodeon ; a position which I shall be 
 most happy to take, although I fear that my vocal pow- 
 ers are of an exceptionally poor order." 
 
 The fisherman turned over the leaves of the despised 
 Moody and Sankey hymnal for Madeline, was pro- 
 foundly attentive while the singing was going on, and 
 made suave and affable remarks here and there during 
 the intervals ; then glanced at his watch with an ex- 
 pression of highly-affected concern, bade an elaborate 
 adieu to the company, and retired from the scene. 
 
 " Oh, I think that Mr. Rollin is so elegant, don't 
 yew ? " said Mrs. Barlow. " Oh, yes ; I think he's so 
 genteel ! " 
 
 "/don't think so at all," said Lovell. "/don't, 
 certainly, /don't think so." 
 
 " He ain't got much voice ; " said Mrs. Barlow, clasp- 
 ing her hands in raptured appreciation of her match- 
 less Lovell. 
 
 Finally, Grandpa, with a haggard smile on his fea- 
 tures, stumbled across the little landing of the stairway, 
 between the parlor and the kitchen, bearing with him a 
 pan of much scorched and battered pop-corn. 
 
 " Oh, ain't them beautiful ! " arose Mrs. Barlow's re- 
 assuring cry. 
 
 Grandma had already set an example to her guests 
 by making a convenient receptacle of her capacious 
 lap, and pouring some of the corn into it, an example
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 181 
 
 which the fortunate scions of the skirted tribe, now ar- 
 ranged in rows on one side of the room, followed, each 
 in turn. Of the male species on the other side of the 
 room, Lovell happened to be first in line. As the corn 
 came nearer and nearer to him, he began to look about 
 wildly, and to cough. His legs trembled violently with 
 the effort he was making to keep them close together. 
 He accepted the pan of pop-corn with a gesture of 
 feverish haste, and proceeded to pour the contents into 
 his lap, but, as he poured they disappeared, and the 
 faster he poured the faster they disappeared, and the 
 more strenuous exertions he made to keep his legs close 
 together, the wider seemed to grow the chasm through 
 which the corn went rattling down on to the floor, until 
 Lovell's eyes began to whirl in their orbits and drops of 
 sweat stood out upon his forehead. 
 
 Harvey, who appreciated the situation and was burst- 
 ing with a desire to roar out his mirthful emotions, 
 showed a. kind heart above all, and turned the tables 
 nicely in poor Lovell's behalf. 
 
 " Look here, Lovell ! " he cried ; " that's a pretty trick 
 to play on us fellows, you rascal ! you'd better let up on 
 that, now ! " 
 
 Lovell grasped at the idea as a drowning man might 
 grasp at a good substantial raft that should come float- 
 ing down his way. 
 
 " T-that's so," he stammered. " It is too bad, Har- 
 vey. It-t-t is, certainly, but anything for a j-joke, you 
 know. Here, take it yourself, Harvey, t-take it ; take 
 k, quick ! " 
 
 And Lovell got down on his knees as though he 
 would have rendered dumb thanks to Heaven for his
 
 l8 2 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 unexpected deliverance, and proceeded to gather up the 
 corn with glad alacrity. 
 
 After this, the water was passed, and, at such times, 
 it was always comforting to consider how bountiful 
 nature had been in this respect to Wallencamp, and 
 that the demand could never be quite equal to the 
 supply. 
 
 Then the company began to disperse with many 
 hand-shakings and " Why don't ye all drop into my 
 house ? " etc., etc. 
 
 Lovell Barlow came back twice to shake hands with 
 me; and returning the third time, got lost, somehow, 
 in the general confusion, and shook hands very fervently 
 with his mother, who was standing in the door. 
 
 I heard one of the departing visitors exclaim : " Why, 
 where's Lute ? I should a thought he'd a dropped in, 
 sure ! " 
 
 And another answered : " Oh, he's got some new 
 notion into his head, I reckon ! goin' on L. cruise, 
 may be ! " 
 
 Rebecca was going out with a girl companion, talking 
 rather loudly. I was moved to take her hand a moment^ 
 gently detaining her. She looked exceedingly bright 
 and pretty. Her physical beauty was perfect, yet I 
 believed that the soul was only half awakened in the 
 girl. 
 
 So as I held her hand a moment, with the others 
 taking noisy leave about us, I looked into her face with 
 what she might have read as : " Weren't you laughing 
 rather loudly, my dear ? I can see now that you are 
 not so happy as you would have people believe. Why
 
 N CAPE COD FOLKS. 183 
 
 not confide in me, and let me straighten your difficulty 
 out for you ? " 
 
 But Rebecca's eyes were downcast, and her cheeks 
 crimson. She let her hand slip passively out of mine, 
 and passed on, without a word.
 
 I&9 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LOVELL "POPS THE QUESTION." 
 
 NE morning, ere we had breakfasted at the Ark, 
 Lovell Barlow, like some new-fangled orb of 
 day, was seen to surmount the ruddy verge of 
 the horizon. He bore a gun upon his shoulders, and 
 advanced with a singularly martial and self-confident 
 tread. As he entered the Ark, he placed the gun against 
 the wall, and sat down and folded his arms, and looked 
 as though he could be brave without it. 
 
 " Well, Madeline," said he, with a determined gaze 
 fixed straight before him on vacuity, and with a desperate 
 affectation of spontaneity in his tone " Well, Madeline, 
 mother and father have gone to Aunt Marcia's, /suppose 
 to spend a week, / suppose ahem 1 ahem I / sup- 
 pose so." 
 
 " You don't say so, Lovell ! " exclaimed Madeline. 
 " And what'll poor Robin do now, Lovell ? Oh, what'll 
 poor Robin do now ? " 
 
 " Yes," said he gravely ; " that's what they thought, 
 ahem ! They thought they should stay a week, they 
 thought so, certainly." 
 
 "Wall, I declar' for't, Lovell," said Grandma; 
 "now's the time you'd ought to have a wife. Jest to
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 185 
 
 think how comf 'table 'twould be fu ye, no- ?, instead of 
 stayin' there all alone, if ye only had a nice little wife to 
 home, to cook for ye, and watch for ye, and keep ye 
 company, and " 
 
 "/think so," exclaimed Lovell, giving a quick glance 
 backward in the direction of his gun. " Certainly, ahem i 
 /think so. /do." 
 
 " Lookin' for game ? Eh, Lovell ? " inquired Grand- 
 pa, 
 
 " Pa," said Grandma, solemnly : " I wish you'd put 
 another stick of wood in the stove." 
 
 Grandpa was awake now, and a youthful and satanic 
 gleam shone from under his shaggy eyebrows ; he glanced 
 at me, too, as was his habit on such occasions, as though 
 I had a sort of sympathy for and fellowship with him in 
 his bold iniquities of speech. 
 
 But the guileless Lovell interpreted not the deeper 
 meaning of Grandpa's words. 
 
 " I think some of it, Cap'n," he answered unsmilingly, 
 and then continued : " It's been ahem ! it's been a 
 very mild winter on the ahem ! I should say on the 
 Cape. It's been a very mild winter on the Cape, Miss 
 Hungerford." 
 
 Lovell's nervous glance falling again on his gun, took 
 me in wildly on the way. 
 
 I had been directing some letters that I expected to 
 have an opportunity to send that morning. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," I said, looking up. " Yes, you 
 don't often have such mild winters on the Cape, Mr. 
 Barlow ! " 
 
 "No'm, we don't," said Lovell, "not very often, 
 ahem I " He moved his chair a peg nearer the gun.
 
 186 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 * Quite a ahem ! quite a little fall of snow we had 
 last night, Miss Hungerford." 
 
 " Any deer tracks ? Eh, Lovell ? " inquired Grandpa. 
 
 " Pa," said Grandma ; " I wish you'd fill Abigail 
 seems to me she smells sorter dry." 
 
 " She ain't, for sartin', ma," replied Grandpa, giving 
 the tea-kettle a shake to verify his assertions ; " and 
 Rachel's chock full ! " 
 
 Grandma then gave Grandpa a meaning look, and put 
 her fingers on her lips. 
 
 " Well, Cap'n, I saw more rabbit tracks," replied 
 Lovell, innocently amused at the ludicrousness of the 
 old Captain's speech. "I did, rather ahem! yes, 
 I saw more rabbit tracks ahem ! ahem 1 " He gave 
 his chair a desperate hitch gunward. ' I don't suppose 
 they ever do such a thing, where you live, Miss Hunger- 
 ford, as to go ahem ! to go sleigh-riding, now, do 
 they, Miss Hungerford ? " 
 
 " Why, yes," I said ; " they always do in the winter. 
 I haven't been home through the winter for a year or 
 two past, but I remember what splendid times we used 
 to have." 
 
 I was thinking particularly of a certain snow-fall, that 
 came when I was seventeen years old, and John Cable 
 had just returned from College, with a moustache and 
 patriarchal airs. 
 
 Some grinning recollections of the past were also 
 floating through Grandpa's mind. The look of repre- 
 hensible mirth was still in his eyes, and he showed his 
 teeth, which gleamed oddly white and strong in contrast 
 with his grizzled countenance. 
 
 **I remember" he began.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 187 
 
 " Pa," said Grandma, with an expressive wink of one 
 eye, and only part of her face visible around the corner 
 of the doorway, through which Madeline had already 
 disappeared ; "pa I wish you'd come out here a 
 minute, now I want to see ye." 
 
 " Wall, wall, can't ye see me here, ma ? What makes 
 ye so dreadful anxious to see me all of a sudden ? " 
 inquired Grandpa. But his face did not lose its thought- 
 ful illumination. " Wall, as I was a tellin' ye, teacher," 
 he went on ; "I was only a little shaver then a little 
 shaver and my father had one of those 'ere pungs, as 
 we used to call 'em, that he used to ride around in 
 and he was a dreadful man to swear, my father was, 
 teacher Lordy, how he would swear ! " 
 
 " Pa ! " said the great calm voice at the door ; " I'm a 
 waitin' for you to come out, so't I can shet the door." 
 
 " Wall, wall, ma, shet the door if ye want to, I've no 
 
 objections to havin' the door shet and we had an 
 
 old hoss, teacher. Lordy, how lean he was, lean as a 
 skate, and " 
 
 " Bijonah Keeler ! " 
 
 "Yis, yis, I'm a comin', ma, I'm a cominV And 
 wonderful indeed, I thought must have been the tale, 
 which, even under these exasperating circumstances, 
 kept Grandpa's face a-grin as he ran and shuffled 
 towards the door. 
 
 The door was quickly closed behind him by other 
 hands than his own, and then I observed that Lovell's 
 chair had been drawn into frightfully close proximity to 
 his gun. 
 
 "I I think it's pleasanter, that is I I some' 
 times think it's warmer for t-t-two in a sleigh, than
 
 1 88 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 a 'tis for one, don't you, Miss Hungerford ?" 
 said Lovell, and gasped for breath and continued-, 
 ** Now, I think of it, you you wouldn't think of such a 
 thing as going to ride with me to-night, would you, Miss 
 Hungerford? You you wouldn't think of such a 
 thing, would you now ? " 
 
 " Why if you are kind enough to invite me to go 
 sleigh-riding with you, Mr. Barlow ? " 
 
 " / think so ; " said Lovell, grasping his gun, and 
 becoming immediately pale, though composed. " Yes'm, 
 /think so, certainly, /do." 
 
 " Thank you, I will go with pleasure," I said. 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Hungerford," said Lovell, rising 
 hurriedly. "I wish you a pleasant day /do, with 
 pleasure, and I hope that nothing will happen to 
 prevent ! " 
 
 And Lovell marched back across the fields as val- 
 iantly as a man may, who, on occasions of doubt and 
 peril, takes the precaution to go suitably armed. 
 
 During the day the Wallencampers indulged in a 
 mode of recreation, suggestive of that unique sort of 
 inspiration to which they not unfrequently fell vic 
 tims. 
 
 They attached a horse to a boat, a demoralized old 
 boat, which had hitherto occupied a modest place amid 
 the dbbris surrounding the Ark, and thus equipped, they 
 rode or sailed up and down the lane. It proved a 
 stormy sea, and often, as the boat capsized, the air was 
 rent with screams of mock terror and yells of unaffected 
 delight. 
 
 Thus the youth of Wallencamp, yes, and those who 
 heeded not the swift decline of years, by reason of the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 189 
 
 Immortal freshness of their spirits, disported themselves. 
 And I was not amazed, catching a glimpse through the 
 school-house windows of this joyous boat on one of her 
 return voyages up the lane, to see Grandma Keeler 
 swaying wildly in the stern. 
 
 Meanwhile, I -managed to keep my flock indoors. But 
 when, at four o'clock, I took my ruler in hand to give 
 the usual signal of dismissal, the Phenomenon's heels 
 had already vanished through the window, and the 
 repressed animal spirits of a whole barbaric epoch 
 sounded in the whoop with which the Modoc shot 
 through the door. 
 
 Finally, I, myself, rode up the lane in the boat. The 
 path was well worn by this time, and there was no dan- 
 ger of a catastrophe. It seemed to me a novel perform- 
 ance enough, but I had not yet been to ride in Lovell's 
 sleigh. 
 
 Lovell came very early, and preferred to wait outside 
 until I had finished eating my supper. Then, with that 
 deep self-satisfaction which predominated in my soul, 
 even over its appreciation of the novel and amusing, I 
 donned my seal-brown cloak, and stepping out of the 
 door, gathered up my skirts, and smiled at Mr. Lovell 
 with a pair of seal-brown eyes, and was not surprised to 
 hear him ejaculate, coughing slightly; "Ahem! I think 
 so, certainly, yes'm, / think so ; / do." 
 
 Lovell's was the only sleigh in Wallencamp, and, as 
 he informed me, it was one that he had himself con- 
 structed. It had, indeed, already suggested to my mind 
 the workings of no ordinary intellect. Perhaps its most 
 impressive features were its lowness and its height the 
 general lowness and length of its body, into which one
 
 190 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Could step easily, the floor being covered with a carpet o4 
 straw, suggesting field-mice ; and the unusual height to 
 which it rose in the back, being surmounted by two glitter- 
 ing knobs, like those on the head-board of an old-fash- 
 ioned bedstead. Half-way down the back of this impos- 
 ing structure the arms or wings sprouted out, giving to the 
 whole the appearance of an immense Pterodactyl, or some 
 other fossil bird of fabulous proportions, and effectually 
 shutting in the occupants of the sleigh from any contem- 
 plation of the possible charms of the scenery. The seat 
 was made very low, and it was, perhaps, on this account 
 that the horse seemed so abnormally high. It was a white 
 horse, and from our lowly position, there seemed to be 
 something awful and shadowy in the motions of its legs. 
 The red of sunset had not gone out of the sky when we 
 started, and a pale young moon was already getting up 
 in the heavens, but we could see neither fading sky nor 
 rising moon, nor rock, nor tree, nor snowy expanse, 
 r.aught but the gigantic hoof-falls of our phantom 
 steed. 
 
 Being thus hopelessly debarred from any communica- 
 tion with external nature, and fearing to give myself up 
 to my own thoughts, which were of a somewhat danger- 
 ous character, I endeavored to engage my companion 
 in lively and cheerful converse by the way ; but he was 
 in a position of actual physical suffering, for the reins 
 were short too short, that is, to form a happy connect- 
 ing link between him and the horse, and poor Lovell was 
 obliged to lean forward at an acute angle in order to 
 grasp them at all. Whenever the ghostly quadruped 
 made a plunge forward, as he not unfrequently did, 
 Lovell was thrust violently down into the straw, and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 191 
 
 throughout all this he comported himself with such firm 
 and hopeless dignity that, with the respect due to suffer- 
 ing, I was moved to witness the struggle, at length, with 
 silent commiseration. Once, having kept his seat for a 
 longer time than usual, Lovell said : 
 
 " I'll give you a riddle, Miss Hungerford, I will. 
 Ahem ! ' Why why does a hen go around the road,' 
 Miss Hungerford ? " 
 
 I posed my head in an attitude of deep thought. 
 
 "Because," Lovell hastened to say; "because she 
 can't go across no, that wasn't right why ahem I 
 why does a hen go across the road, Miss Hungerford ? " 
 and the next instant he was wallowing in the straw at 
 my feet. 
 
 My soul was filled with unutterable compassion for 
 him. 
 
 " Because," I ventured, when Lovell reappeared again, 
 affecting a tone of lively inspiration: "because she 
 can't go around it ? " 
 
 " You you've heard of it before ! " gravely protested 
 Lovell. 
 
 " I confess," said I, " that I have. It used to be my 
 favorite riddle." 
 
 " It it used to be mine, too," said Lovell. " It used 
 to be, Miss Hungerford ahem 1 It used to be You 
 you couldn't tell what I was thinking of when I 
 ahem when I started from home to-night, now, could 
 you, Miss Hungerford ? " said Lovell, at length. 
 
 " I'm sure I couldn't, Mr. Barlow," said I : " but I 
 hope it was something very agreeable." 
 
 " But it wasn't," said Lovell ; " that is, not very, Miss 
 Hungerford ; ahem ! not very. I was I was ahem I
 
 193 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 I was thinking of it, you know, of of such a thing as 
 getting married, you know." 
 
 " I hope," said I, cheerfully, after a pause ; " that as 
 you consider the subject longer, it will be a less painful 
 one to you." 
 
 "I hope so, Miss Hungerford," said Lovell. "Ahem ! 
 I hope so, certainly ;" but there was little of that san- 
 guine quality expressed in his tones. 
 
 The great white horse made another plunge forward, 
 and Lovell recovered himself with a desperate effort. 
 
 " What should you think now, Miss Hungerford," he 
 continued, moistening his parched lips ; " if I should do 
 such a thing as to ahem ! as to speak of such a 
 thing as ahem! as something of that sort to you, 
 now, Miss Hungerford? Now, what should you think 
 of such a thing? now, really?" 
 
 " I should think you were very inconsiderate," I said, 
 " and would probably regret your rashness afterwards." 
 
 " / think so," said Lovell ; " ahem ! / think so, Miss 
 Hungerford; /do, certainly." 
 
 After this it seemed as though a weight had been 
 lifted from LovelFs mind. He kept his seat better. 
 His was not a buoyant spirit, but there was, on this 
 occasion, an air of repressed cheerfulness about him 
 such as I had never before seen him exhibit. I tried to 
 think that it was a joyous mental rebound from the con- 
 templation of those dark riddles which trouble human- 
 ity, "Why does the hen go across the road," etc. 
 
 After a brief pause, Lovell said; "You you wouldn't 
 mind if I should sing a little now, now would you, 
 Miss Hungerford ? " 
 
 I assmcd him that I should be very glad to have him
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 193 
 
 do so, and he sang, I remember, all the rest of the way 
 home. At the gate, I thanked him for the ride and its 
 cheerful vocal accompaniment, and Lovell said ; " Do 
 you like to hear me sing, now? Do you do you, 
 really, now, Miss Hungerford ? " and turned away with 
 a smile on his face to seek his home by the sea. 
 
 But Lovell was not long lonely, for, in less than a 
 week, his father and mother returned from their visit 
 at Aunt Marcia's and brought to Lovell a wife. 
 
 Mrs. Barlow herself informed me that "it was an 
 awful shock to him, at first, oh, dreadful ! but he'd 
 made up his mind to get married, and he'd never a' 
 done it in the world, if we hadn't took it into our own 
 hands. She was a good girl, and we knew it, and Lov- 
 ell wasn't no more fit to pick out a wife, anyway, than a 
 chicken, not a bit more fit than a chicken ! " 
 
 This girl lived in the same town with Aunt Marcia, 
 and was confidently recommended by her to Lovell's 
 parents as one who would be likely to make him a wise 
 and suitable helpmeet, and was, indeed, an uncommonly 
 fair and wholesome looking individual. She had a 
 mind, too, whose clear, practical common sense had 
 never been obscured by the idle theories of romance. 
 She was pure and hearty and substantial. She was 
 neither diffident, nor slow of speech, nor vacillating. 
 She came, at the invitation of Lovell's parents, to many 
 Lovell, and if he had refused, she would have boxed 
 his ears as a wholesome means of correction, and mar- 
 ried him on the spot. 
 
 So Lovell's destined wife was brought home to him 
 in the morning, and in the afternoon of that same day 
 the connubial knot was tied.
 
 194 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Half an hour after the arrival of the bride, it was 
 known throughout the length and breadth of Wallen- 
 camp, to every one, I believe, save Lovell himself, who 
 was gathering driftwood a mile or two down the beach, 
 that Lovell was going to be married ! 
 
 At three o'clock P. M., Brother Mark Barlow was 
 despatched to West Wallen for a minister. 
 
 Small scouts had been sent out to watch, where the 
 road from the beach winds into the main road, and 
 when word was brought back that " Mark had gone by," 
 the Wallencampers proceeded to make all due prepara- 
 tions; and soon might have been seen winding in a 
 body towards the scene of interest. 
 
 The small paraphernalia of invitations and wedding 
 cards were unknown in Wallencamp. The Wallen- 
 campers would have considered that there was little 
 virtue in a ceremony of any sort, performed without the 
 sanction and approval of their united presence. 
 
 In regard to the particular nature of this entertain- 
 ment, there was some snickering in the corners of the 
 room, but the general aspect was funereal. 
 
 The season during which, with Lovell at one end of 
 the room, and the bride at the other, we sat waiting the 
 arrival of the minister, was as solemn as anything I 
 had ever known. 
 
 I made a congratulatory remark, in a low tone, to 
 Mrs. Barlow, who sat at my side with her hands clasped^ 
 gazing first at Lovell and then at the bride ; but I was 
 forced to experience the uncomfortable sensation of one 
 who has inadvertently spoken out loud in meeting. No 
 one said anything. 
 
 The helpless snicker which started occasionally from
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 195 
 
 Harvey Dole's corner, and was echoed faintly from 
 other quarters of the room, only heightened, by contrast, 
 the effect of the succeeding gloom. 
 
 The bride was perfectly composed, with a high, nat- 
 ural color in her cheeks, and an air of being duly 
 impressed with the importance of the occasion. 
 
 She had assumed a large white bonnet, though I do 
 not think that she and Lovell took so much as a stroll 
 to the beach after the ceremony and her plump and 
 shapely hands were encased in a pair of green kid 
 gloves. She gazed thoughtfully, at each occupant of 
 the room in turn, not omitting Lovell, who never once 
 stirred or lifted his eyes. 
 
 Mr. William Barlow was silently passing the water, 
 when Brother Mark arrived with the minister. 
 
 That grave dignitary advanced with measured tread 
 to a small stand, draped with a long white sheet, that 
 had been prepared for him in the centre of the room. 
 
 He took off his gloves, and folded them ; he took off 
 his overcoat, and laid it on the back of a chair ; and if 
 he had then reached down into his pockets and taken 
 out a rope, and proceeded to adjust a hanging-noose, his 
 audience could not have shown a more ghastly and 
 breathless interest in his performance. 
 
 " Will the parties " his sonorous voice resounded 
 through the awful stillness "Will the parties 
 about to be joined in holy wedlock now come 
 forward ? " 
 
 As Lovell then arose and walked, with an automatic 
 hitch in his legs, across the room to his bride, there was 
 about him all the stiffness and pallor of the grave with- 
 out its smile of peace.
 
 196 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " Lovell and Nancy " arose the deep intonation 
 " will you now join hands ? " 
 
 It was a warm strong hand in the green kid glove. 
 Its grasp might have sent a thrill of life through Lov- 
 ell's rigid frame, for when the minister inquired : 
 
 " And do you, Lovell, take this woman ? " etc., etc. 
 
 Lovell bent his body, moved his lips, and replied in a 
 strange, far-away tone, " Yes'm, / think so. / do, cer- 
 tainly." 
 
 But when the question was put to the bride, she, 
 Nancy, promised to take Lovell to be her wedded hus- 
 band, to love and cherish, yes, and to cleave to, with 
 a round, full " I do," that left no possible room foi 
 doubt in the mind of any one present, and seemed 
 to send back the flood of frozen terror to Lovell's 
 veins. 
 
 Lovell and Nancy were pronounced man and wife, 
 and Nancy then divested herself of her bonnet and 
 gloves, and joined in the festivities which followed 
 with a hearty good-will, that proved her to be quite at 
 home among the Wallencampers, and won at once their 
 affection and esteem. The manner, particularly, in 
 which she carried beans from her plate to her mouth, 
 gracefully balanced on the extreme verge of her knife, 
 as an adroit and finished work of art, provoked the won- 
 der and admiration of all those whose beans sometimes 
 wandered and fell off by the way. 
 
 And all the while, Mrs. Barlow's adjectives flowed in 
 a full and copious stream. 
 
 " Oh, Lovell had been so wild," she said to me. 
 u Oh, dreadful ! But didn't I think he looked like a 
 husband now? So quick, too ! Oh, yes, wasn't it beau-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 197 
 
 tiful ! Abbie Ann said he looked as though he'd been 
 a husband fifteen years ! " 
 
 After the ceremony, Lovell had taken his pipe and 
 retired a little from the active scenes which were being 
 enacted around him. 
 
 I saw him, as I was going away, standing in the door 
 and looking out upon the bay. I held out my hand to 
 him, in passing. " I congratulate you, Mr. Barlow," I 
 said. Lovell put his hand to his mouth and coughed 
 slightly several times, as though he were striving to 
 think of the polite thing to say. Then he replied : " I 
 I ahem ! I wish you the same, Miss Hungerford, 
 /do, certainly." 
 
 Lovell was not so pale as he had been, but looked 
 very serious and pensive with his eyes fixed on the mys- 
 terious depths of the ocean. Lovell had propounded 
 riddles to me, but never before had I caught such 
 a glimpse of the deeply philosophical workings of his 
 mind. 
 
 " When you come to think of it, life ahem life is 
 very uncertain, Miss Hungerford." 
 
 I replied that it was very uncertain. 
 
 " And short, too, when you come to think of it. It's 
 very short, too, Miss Hungerford." 
 
 " Oh, yes," I answered, " very." 
 
 " Ahem ! It was it was dreadful sudden, some- 
 how," said Lovell. 
 
 " I suppose so, Mr. Barlow," I replied gravely ; 
 " great and unexpected joys are sometimes said to be 
 as benumbing in their first effects as griefs coming in 
 the same way."
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 "/think so," said Lovell. " Ahem ! /think so, Miss 
 Hungerford, /do, certainly." 
 
 Madeline joined me at the door, and I bade Lovell 
 good-night. 
 
 We clambered down the cliffs, walking 3. little while 
 along on the beach on our way homeward. 
 
 It was growing dark, and the voice of the ocean was 
 infinitely mournful and sublime. No wonder, I thought, 
 that life had seemed very short and uncertain to Lovell 
 as he stood in the door listening to the waves. 
 
 What a little thing it seemed indeed, comparatively 
 this life with its fears and hopes, its poor idle jests and 
 fleeting shows. 
 
 " And there shall be no more sea " but this poor 
 human soul that looks out so blindly, and utters itself 
 so feebly through the senses, shall live for ever and 
 ever. 
 
 " Lovell's folks have picked out a good wife for him, 
 anyhow," said Madeline, briskly. " She's got a sight 
 more sense than anybody he'd ever a' picked out." 
 
 I crept back into my shell again. " I think so, cer- 
 tainly, Madeline," said I, smiling at having uncon- 
 sciously repeated Lovell's favorite phrase. 
 
 " She'll make Lovell all over, and get some new ideas 
 into him, I can tell you," said Madeline. 
 
 And though I did not stay in Wallencamp long 
 enough to witness with my own eyes the fulfilment of 
 this prophecy, I know that it was abundantly fulfilled 
 that Lovell soon recovered from the shock incident to 
 his wedding ; that under the influence of his wholesome, 
 active wife, and with the weight of greater responsibili*
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 199 
 
 ties, he grew more manly and admirable in charac- 
 ter, as well as happier, with each succeeding year ; and 
 that Lovell's children a joyful and robust group, 
 adored of Mrs. Barlow, senior play on the "broad 
 window seat " that looks off towards the sea.
 
 200 CAPE COD FOLKS 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A LETTER FROM THE FISHERMAN. 
 
 HE fisherman had gone back to Providence. 
 Rebecca, herself, returning from the Post Of- 
 fice at West Wallen, brought me a letter distin- 
 guished by its peculiar dashing chirography. As she 
 handed it to me, the girl, whose glance had been down- 
 cast of late, gave me a clear, straightforward, unem- 
 barrassed look. 
 
 " Do you like him, teacher ? " she said. 
 
 "Oh, I tolerate him, my dear," I answered. "We're 
 not expected to entertain a particular liking or dislike for 
 everybody we know. There are a great many people 
 we must just simply tolerate." 
 
 Rebecca's eyes fell again. " He won't harm you, 
 teacher, she said ; " for you was used to folks. Some- 
 time you might remember I wasn't used to folks." 
 
 Occupied with my own thoughts, I passed lightly over 
 the girl's slow, trembling speech. She turned away, 
 and I bent to the complacent perusal of my letter. In 
 my then composed and exalted frame of mind its con- 
 tents were not calculated to create in me either great 
 emotion or surprise. And not because the mere fact of 
 the fisherman's absence had suddenly rendered him 
 more desirable in my eyes, but as the result of a recent
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 2 OI 
 
 determination on my part to take an utterly worldly and 
 practical view of life, I resolved to give this letter the 
 most careful and serious consideration. 
 
 The fisherman was of good family, and he was rich ; 
 these statements, artistically interwoven by him with the 
 lighter fabric of his letter, were confirmed by an acquaint- 
 ance of mine in Providence, of whom, in writing, I had 
 incidentally inquired concerning the gentleman. 
 
 Respectability and wealth items not supposed to 
 weigh too heavily with the romantic mind of youth 
 but I believed that I was no longer either young or 
 romantic. Moreover, I was slowly realizing the fact that 
 school-teaching in Wallencamp was not likely to furnish 
 me the means for making an excessively brilliant per- 
 sonal display, nor for carrying out to any extent my 
 subordinate plans for a world-wide philanthropy. 
 
 "Perhaps, after all then," I argued; "it is only left 
 for me to give up my ideas about being unique and inde- 
 pendent and sublime, * take up with a good offer,' and 
 step resolutely, without any sentimental awe, into the 
 great orderly ranks of the married sisterhood." 
 
 My life had been but a varied list of surprises to my 
 family and acquaintances, why not effect the crowning 
 surprise of all, by doing something they might have 
 expected of me ? 
 
 Well, I had dreamed of higher things but this was 
 a strange, restless, disappointing world. If one saw a 
 plain path open before one's feet, one might as well walk 
 quietly along that way. There were thorns in every path, 
 and it would be nice to be rich, very rich. 
 
 My thoughts wandered through a wide field of imagin- 
 ary delight, encountering only one serious obstacle in the
 
 202 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 way of their elysium, and that was the fisherman himself 
 considered as a life-long escort and companion. 
 
 In my youthful dreams, I had cherished, to be sure, a 
 score of mild Arthur Greys and stern Stephen Mont- 
 gomerys. My Arthurs had all died of inherited con- 
 sumption. I had taken leave of their departing spirits 
 under the most thrilling circumstances, having frequently 
 been married to them at their deathbeds, and had lived 
 but to plant flowers on their graves and wear crape for 
 them ever afterwards; and my dark-browed Stephen 
 Montgomerys had all gone to swell the avenging tide of 
 righteous war, and had been fatally shot, while I 
 remained to shed tears of unavailing grief over the locks 
 of raven hair they left with me on the morning of 
 their departure. But to marry a real, live, omnipresent 
 man a man, with red hair, sound lungs, and no wars 
 to go to ! My aspiring soul shrank from the realistic 
 vision. 
 
 And all the while a tenderer vision would rise before 
 my eyes, clothed with its pitiful romance the Cradle- 
 bow, like some sadly out-of-fashion guest, arising unso- 
 licited out of a half-forgotten dreamland, passing indeed 
 both the ideal strength of the warlike Stephen and the 
 gentleness of the saintly Arthur, but, alas ! so crude, so 
 unworldly, so ridiculously poor ! And the vision extended 
 and then narrowed helplessly to a home in one of the 
 forlorn houses in Wallencamp by the sea, with its dingy 
 walls and bare floors, its general confusion of objects 
 and misery, and my lord's grand eyes obscured, per- 
 chance, behind clouds of tobacco smoke, while I set thd 
 scanty table and fried the briny herrings. 
 
 With a shudder for romance, I returned to the COD-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 203 
 
 templation of wealth and respectability ; and took up 
 graciously, once more, the briefly abandoned idea of 
 duty. 
 
 I had often been told that it was my duty to accommo- 
 date myself to other people's views. Perhaps I should 
 accomplish my designs for self-immolation, and thus, in 
 one sense, effect my highest spiritual good, by marrying 
 the fisherman and accommodating myself to his views 
 ah ! but how could that be, I reflected, unsmilingly, when 
 my views were so infinitely superior to his ! 
 
 I wondered, for one thing, why he should have enter- 
 tained, of late, such an excessive dislike for Wallencamp 
 and its inhabitants. The natural beauty of Wallencamp 
 had impressed me daily more and more, and the people 
 were harmless, to say the least. I thought he should 
 have enjoyed them ; he had a humorous vein ; he was 
 not too snobbish ; and he seemed of a nature to wish to 
 make himself generally agreeable to people ; but for 
 these special objects of my care he had expressed only 
 derision and contempt, with often a touch of positive 
 malice ; and had not been able to abstain from giving 
 me a hard cut or two on my mission, barely avoiding it 
 in his letter, and rejoicing with what seemed to me an 
 unwarrantable warmth in the hope that I should soon 
 quit forever the abominable place. 
 
 Then, in my miserable short-sightedness, my thoughts 
 wandered indirectly to Rebecca. I wondered if she had 
 taken to heart anything in the acquaintance she was said 
 to have had with Mr. Rollin, before I came to Wallen- 
 camp, which had caused the change in her. I did not 
 believe she had. The girl was too artless and simple to 
 have concealed so completely the resentment she would
 
 2O4 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 naturally have cherished too childish to have borne it 
 so silently. As far as the fisherman was implicated in 
 the affair, even if he had trifled a little for his own 
 amusement with the vague impulses, possibly the affec- 
 tions, of this unsophisticated girl, the act was by no 
 means unprecedented among people of wealth and 
 respectability. It was a diversion in which Arthur 
 Grey and Stephen Montgomery would not have indulged, 
 perhaps, " but this," I mused, " is a sadly commonplace 
 sort of world, viewed in the broad daylight of wisdom 
 and experience (and with such penetrating rays I felt 
 my own optics to be only too wearily oppressed) ; we 
 must give up our high ideals, take people as we find 
 then, and submit gracefully to the inevitable." 
 
 Still I was in as much of a quandary as ever as to 
 what I should choose to consider the inevitable in my 
 < -wn pat?:. It never occurred to me in this dilemma to 
 seek advice from the elder members of my own family. 
 They knew nothing really of my situation in Wallencamp, 
 and even if they had been informed more truthfully in 
 regard to it, I thought they could hardly be expected to 
 appreciate the peculiarly trying circumstances in which I 
 was placed just at present. 
 
 Mothers were excellent for mending gloves, taking 
 ink stains out of white dresses with lemon juice, etc., 
 etc. ; but there were certain exigencies in the remote 
 and exalted life of those who go on " missions " which 
 their humble though loving skill must ever fail to 
 reach. 
 
 I did write home, by the way, for more spending- 
 money. I had been obliged to send to Boston for a few 
 of the latest novels, fresh ribbons, cologne water, and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 205 
 
 various other articles indispensable to the career of a 
 truly devoted propagandist. I preferred my request no 
 longer as the dependent offspring seeking gifts from a 
 fond and indulgent parent, but as the solicitor of a mere 
 temporary loan, until I should be able to draw on my 
 salary at the close of the term. 
 
 One morning, having inured myself to extreme world- 
 liness of soul and begun a deliberately reckless response 
 to the fisherman's letter, I looked out through my win- 
 dow to see the Cradlebow trudging manfully down the 
 lane, with a grotesquely antiquated portmanteau in his 
 hand, and the general air of one who has started a-foot 
 on a journey. 
 
 With a singular readiness to be diverted, I found that 
 the picture was, somehow, not conducive to further 
 worldliness of meditation ; and when in the evening, 
 Mrs. Cradlebow came in to call, in her mantilla, the 
 impression thus made on my mind was inexpressibly 
 deepened. 
 
 Mrs. Cradlebow was not a frequent caller. She had 
 almost earned among the Wallencampers the direful 
 anathema of " not being neighborly." 
 
 She informed me, while the singers were gathered, as 
 usual, at the Ark, that Luther had gone to make fare- 
 well visits to his friends. He had three married sisters 
 living in different parts of the State. They had chil- 
 dren. The children were very fond of him, and he was 
 going on such a long voyage. Mrs. Cradlebow was 
 looking beyond the singers, her eyes shining clear and 
 sad above the pathetic smile on her lips 
 
 " And he says he shan't come back again until he 
 comes to give me such pleasure as I never dreamed of."
 
 206 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Those words come to me now, either as part of the 
 endless mockery of life, or as strains of hidden music, 
 deep and true, running ever beneath the world's dull 
 misinterpretation. 
 
 Afterwards, the choir of voices in the room formed 
 an effectual shield for confidential conversation. 
 
 " You don't know what a good boy he's always been 
 to me, teacher," Mrs- Cradlebow continued, with a man- 
 ner unusual to her, I thought, as of one seeking for 
 sympathy ; " so that I've learned to depend so much on 
 him, more, I think, than on anybody else. Some boys 
 when they're growing up so, they feel independent and 
 they answer you back short, but the older he grew, the 
 gentler he was to me, always, and if he had any trouble, 
 it never made him cross to me ; and I think it's harder 
 to see anybody so than if they was cross, for he's 
 quick in ways, I know, but when things go real hard 
 against him, he's patient." 
 
 " He ought not to know much about trouble yet," I 
 answered hopefully, with the consciousness of one who 
 has fathomed all the mysteries of grief and can yet 
 speak gayly of the forlorn background. 
 
 " He doesn't know enough about the world, I'm 
 afraid," said Mrs. Cradlebow, and her eyes, fixed on 
 my face, seemed to me to be looking gently into my 
 inmost heart. " He expects so much, and he never 
 looks out for himself. I wish he'd be content to go 
 fishing with the other boys they always come back in 
 the autumn and not want to sail so far." 
 
 I was almost angry because of the embarrassment I 
 felt under that clear glance. 
 
 ** Don't you think, Mrs. Cradlebow," I said nervously;
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. vtf 
 
 "that young people are never content until they find 
 out the world for themselves?" It was an interroga- 
 tion, but it was sagely uttered. 
 
 " I know, I know," she said. " Perhaps it's best he 
 should go." She spoke very quietly and with uncom- 
 mon composure of demeanor. She withdrew her eyes 
 from my face, but the smile trembled on her lips, and I 
 knew that her heart was breaking over the words, for 
 Luther was her darling. 
 
 I wished, almost impatiently, for my own part, that it 
 might all have happened differently ; that I might leave 
 everything in Wallencamp just as I had found it, so 
 delightfully happy and peaceful it had seemed to me. 
 I could not bear, in looking back, to think of one face 
 as wearing upon it any unaccustomed grief. At all 
 events, I felt that my thoughts had been helplessly 
 turned from their prescribed channel, and the fisher- 
 man's letter remained from day to day still unanswered. 
 
 Meanwhile, winter was vanishing at the Cape. As 
 salient points in its quaint and cherished memory, I 
 recall the frequent clamming excursions, when we rat- 
 tled down to the beach, at low-tide, in a cart whose 
 groaning members lacked every element of elasticity. 
 Often there were as many as sixteen persons in one 
 cart, and the same number of hoes and baskets the 
 baskets being filled with small children as a means of 
 keeping both them and the children stationary. 
 
 Grandma was always present on these occasions, and 
 the hilarity of the Wallencampers, as they were jounced 
 and joggled over the stones, in a manner which to some 
 might have been productive of great bodily agony, con- 
 cealed, with them, no undercurrent of nervous dread or
 
 208 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 pain. They were kind enough to regard the presence of 
 the " teacher " as indispensable to their complete 
 enjoyment, while I was ready to congratulate myself 
 that my society alone was the object desired, for though 
 I brought my near-sighted vision to bear faithfully upon 
 the sands, I never succeeded in capturing a clam. 
 
 I heard that Bachelor Lot had confided aside to Cap- 
 tain Sartell that " Teacher'd ought to bring a hook and 
 line. The clams 'ud go for it in a minute if she'd only 
 bring a hook and line ; " and, stung by the unsheathed 
 sarcasm of this remark, I was accustomed afterwards to 
 wander off towards " Steeple Rock." The rock was 
 accessible at low-tide, and from thence I could watch 
 the ocean on one side, and the clam-diggers on the 
 other ; could see Grandma on her hands and knees, a 
 dot of broad good nature in the distance, always remain- 
 ing apparently in the one place, and always, somehow, 
 getting her basket full of clams as she gradually sank 
 deeper and deeper into the briny soil ; but no true 
 Wailencamper ever caught cold by soaking in the 
 brine. 
 
 I could distinguish Madeline wandering lightly about 
 among the rocks, scraping off mussels with her hoe ; 
 and the Modoc, the champion clam-digger of all, spread- 
 ing her tentacles here and there, and never failing to 
 come up with a bivalve. It was a picturesque scene, 
 viewed from the great rock ; and when the tide began 
 to sweep in again, George Olver sent a piercing whistle 
 along shore, to call the stragglers together; clams, 
 children, and all were loaded into the cart, and jostled 
 gayly homeward chased by the fresh sea breezes. 
 
 For the chowder, which in due course of events arose
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 309 
 
 to take its place among the viands on the Ark board, I 
 would leave it to that sacred and tenfold mystery with 
 which, to my mind, it was ever enshrouded. 
 
 I recall the exhibitions held at the school-house, conr 
 fined exclusively to the native talent of Wallericamp, at 
 which the old and young were assembled to speak 
 pieces. 
 
 It was then that Aunt Rhoda and Aunt Cinthia, 
 matrons of portly frame and perilous foothold, engaged 
 in a metrical dialogue concerning the robbing of a bird's 
 nest, in which lively diversion they assumed to have par- 
 ticipated. And Bachelor Lot rendered " My beautiful 
 Annabel Lee " with unique effect ; and Grandma Keeler 
 spoke mysteriously though hopefully of 
 
 " Hope and Harnah 
 Double-decked schooner 
 Cap'n John Homer 
 Marster and owner 
 Bound for Bermudy." 
 
 The strange effect produced upon me by the first of 
 tfcese rhetorical entertainments is still as fresh in my 
 mind as though it had been yesterday, so luminous was 
 the night with stars ; so loud and prolonged the prelim- 
 inary blowing of the horn ; so festive the appearance of 
 the school-house, loaded as it was with evergreens ; so 
 abnormal the proportions of the stage, which had been 
 extended to comprise nearly two-thirds of the school- 
 room. 
 
 It comes to me again, the first shock of surprise at 
 finding all Wallencamp on the stage, Grandpa and I, 
 alone, being left like ostracized owls among the shrubbeiy
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 of the auditorium. Our sense of isolation was only 
 intensified by hearing the sounds of mirth which pro- 
 ceeded from the other side of the curtain, and seeing a 
 foot or an elbow occasionally thrust out into our own 
 green though silent realm. 
 
 Thrice Aunt Rhoda appeared before the curtain to 
 proclaim in pregnant tones, " We are now awaiting for 
 Josiah and Annie." 
 
 Josiah, by the way, had married a Wallencamp girl 
 and taken her to West Wallen to live, yet the two were 
 ever faithful attendants at the Wallencamp festivities. 
 
 " Declaration " after " declaration " was announced by 
 Aunt Rhoda, and as the declaimers finished their parts, 
 they descended to sit with us, until at last the curtain 
 was drawn aside, revealing Madeline, alone upon the 
 stage, seated at her " music." 
 
 She opened the Hymnal, and struck the leading chord, 
 and straightway, from the Wallencampers, all gathered 
 now below, there arose a burst of melody as it had been 
 one mighty voice.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A WALLENCAMP FUNERAL. 
 
 R. 'LIHU DOLE Harvey's father lay 
 dying, and all the Wallencampers were assem- 
 bled in and about the house. 
 
 It was night, and one was going out from among 
 them to launch his lonely bark on a deeper, more mys- 
 terious ocean than that whose moan came up to them 
 from behind the cedars. There was awe on their faces, 
 and a touch of terror, too, but above all there was a 
 strange, childlike wonder. 
 
 They had seen death before. It might come to them 
 at any time, they knew. Its spirit sounded in the dirges 
 of the waves along the shore, yet, none the less, for 
 time or fate, or moan of solemn wave, grew this exceed- 
 ing mystery. 
 
 Was it like a cold black flood, to die at night, and no 
 stars shining a cold flood creeping more and more 
 above the heart ? Oh, the wonder on those poor faces, 
 if there might be, indeed, some fairer harbor lights 
 beyond death's tide, and gentler music lulling the dread 
 surge, so that the voyager, with untold joy at last, felt 
 the worn boat-keel loosen on the strand and drift off 
 from this shore ! 
 
 Emily and Aunt Cinthia were alone in the room vitfa
 
 112 CAPE COD FOLKS, 
 
 the dying man. They were his sisters. His wife had 
 been dead for years. 
 
 In the adjoining room sat a group of females, a single 
 candle burning dimly on a table in their midst. Grandma 
 Bartlett was there, and Grandma Keeler, and Aunt 
 Sibylla Cradlebow. 
 
 Occasionally, a whisper from one of these three 
 pierced the gloom, a whisper appropriately sepulchral in 
 tone, but more penetrating than any voice of buoyant 
 life and hope. 
 
 I sat in the door with Madeline, Rebecca on the step 
 below, very still and thoughtful. 
 
 The men and the young people, for the most part, 
 were waiting about outside. 
 
 I caught the low murmur of a discussion between 
 Captain Sartell and Bachelor Lot, who were sitting on 
 the fence, and knew by the attitude of the listeners gath- 
 ered around them, that the subject was one of no ordi- 
 nary interest. I could not help wondering what those 
 two argued concerning death and the immortality of the 
 soul. 
 
 The tick ! tick ! tick ! of the clock sounded with per- 
 sistent distinctness in the room where the women sat, 
 and Grandma Bartlett sighed, and then came the awful 
 whisper : 
 
 " Ah, death's vary sahd vary sahd." 
 
 Grandma Bartlett, superannuated as she was, was the 
 most trite of the Wallencampers. 
 
 Aunt Sibylla Cradlebow accepted the lifeless phrase 
 with something almost like a smile of disdain in hei 
 magnificent eyes. 
 
 u Oh, it's like everything else," she whispered. " It's 
 4 mixter 1 It's a mixter 1 "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Once the door of the little bedroom opened softly, 
 and Emily appeared on the scene. 
 
 " He's got most to the end of his rope," she said, 
 dryly, in answer to the inquiring faces lifted to her own. 
 There was an unnatural brightness in Emily's tearless 
 eyes, and her tone was as sprightly as ever. 
 
 " He don't see nothin', and he don't feel nothin', and 
 he don't hear nothin'," she continued ; " and it's sech 
 poor work a breathin', he's most give that up, too. It 
 might stop any minute and he not know it. Cinthy's 
 cryin' ; I don't see nothin' to cry about. It'll storm before 
 to-morrow, likely it's dark enough, Lord knows and 
 them east winds always hurt him so. ' I don't know 
 whether he's worse off, or better off, Cinthy,' says I, 
 *or whether he's off entirely. But I don't believe a 
 righteous God '11 make poor 'Lihu suffer any worse than 
 he has in the last ten weeks.' But it's strange, all the 
 time I was a' sittin* there by him, when he was worst, it 
 kept comin* up before me, jest as he was when Tie was 
 a little boy. I hadn't thought on him so for years, but it 
 seemed jest as though 'twas back in New Hampshire, 
 where we was born, a' playin' around the old mill again. 
 Him and me was the youngest, we was always together, 
 and I couldn't 'a' called him up so before me, to save 
 me ; but there he was, as plain as life, with his little 
 blue checked apron on, a skippin' along towards me 
 over the logs, and his eyes a dancin', and the wind a 
 blowin' his hair out ; and all the while I couldn't help 
 a knowin' that 'Lihu was a man grown, a dyin' there 
 before me on the bed. 
 
 *' ' Seems as though a man that's been a wearin* out 
 as long as he has had ought to die easier, Cinthy/ says
 
 ti4 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 L ' It's pretty hard to have forty years' consumption, 
 and then go off with a fever.' ' We can't question the 
 Lord's doin's,' says Cinthy. But for all that, she would- 
 n't stay in the room to see him. He couldn't ketch his 
 breath and he was as crazy as a loon. Lord, how he 
 worried ! All day, yesterday, he was a loadin' ship 
 down to the shore. It would a' made your bones ache 
 to hear him workin' so ; and all night long he was a 
 loadin', and a loadin.' Thinks I, won't there never be 
 no end to this, for I felt hard, and him a loadin' and a 
 loadin' all through them long hours, jest as faithful as 
 life, with his eyes like blood, and the sweat a rollin' 
 off'n him. He couldn't stand that forever. This morn- 
 in' the pain sorter left him, but there was that one 
 idee on his mind. The ship was all loaded, and he'd 
 got to wait for high tide to git it off, and he wanted to 
 go to sleep, but he couldn't, because he'd got to watch 
 the tide. 
 
 " ' Oh, if I could only rest, now,' he kep' a sayin', 
 weak and slow. ' If I could only go to sleep now ; ' and 
 so he moaned and moaned. 
 
 " So I got close to his ear and I says, ' You go to 
 sleep, now, 'Lihu, and I'll watch,' I says ; * I'll wake 
 you up when it's high tide,' I says ; but he only shook 
 his head. So then, t says, 'Aint there none o' the 
 folks you can trust to watch ? ' And he shook his 
 head, and so he moaned and moaned. 
 
 " By and by, all of a sudden, 'Lihu looked up at me 
 different, with his eyes wide open, so that for a minute, 
 I was most fool enough to think 'Lihu was gittin' well, 
 and he smiled as though he wanted to say something. 
 So I leant over. ' I know somebody,' he says, as
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 215 
 
 slow as that, for he was all worn out. 'Who then, 
 'Lihu?' says I. 'Jesus,' says he, with that queer, 
 smilin' look, as though it was the naturalest thing on 
 earth. 'He'll wake me up when ,' and he 
 couldn't wait no longer, his head fell over as heavy as a 
 log, and that's the way he's been ever since, sleepin* 
 like death. 
 
 "Wall, Cinthy thinks somebody'd ought to come in 
 and make a prayer. ' He wasn't a perfessor,' says she. 
 ' Lord knows, if he had a been,' says I, ' there'd be 
 more need on't!' 'Anyway,' says I, 'he can't hear 
 nothin', it won't do him no harm.' So I thought I'd 
 come out and see. It'll make Cinthy feel easier." 
 
 There was a whispered consultation among the 
 women, but Emily came over to where I sat. 
 
 "Come, teacher," said she. "Your voice ain't as 
 raspin' as some, and you've got a knack o" stringin' 
 words together, that sound likely, and don't hit nobody 
 you come in." 
 
 " Hush ! " I cried, grasping the woman's hand, think- 
 ing only, then, that it would seem like sacrilege for any 
 one to speak aloud in the room where one was waiting 
 for Christ to wake him. I had forgotten at that mo- 
 ment that I was out of the habit of praying, even for 
 myself. Emily's tale had moved me so, it seemed only 
 its sweet and fitting consummation, and nothing incred- 
 ible to my mind then, that Christ should come down 
 out of the starless sky to touch that heavy sleeper's 
 brow. 
 
 It was finally decided that there should be a quiet 
 little prayer-meeting in the room where the women sat, 
 in behalf of Mr. 'Lihu's soul ; but before all the prelim-
 
 2l6 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 inary steps had been taken, and the men and youth 
 noiselessly ingathered, Mr. 'Lihu's breathing had ceased, 
 without a parting pang or gasp, and the tide was at its 
 full. 
 
 Harvey had been standing with a group near the door. 
 Once at some irrelevancy in the proceedings, while the 
 women were organizing the prayer-meeting, I heard his 
 irrepressible little giggle creeping in ; but when the words 
 so mysteriously uttered were passed out to him 
 " 'Lihu's gone ! " the poor boy, realizing only at that 
 instant their terrible meaning, that his father had indeed 
 gone, gone away from him forever, ran forward a pace or 
 two, and then fell, with his face to the ground. 
 
 So he lay, shaking and sobbing helplessly. 
 
 Grandma Bartlett, standing in the door, studied him 
 for some moments with her fossilized eyes : 
 
 " Fatherless and motherless, now," said she. " Poor 
 creetur, humph ! vary sahd." 
 
 Then she blinked, and, simultaneously, the subject 
 seemed to have slipped from her mind, and she to have 
 become vaguely contemplative concerning worlds and 
 ages remote. 
 
 The boy was still lying prone on the ground, when I 
 left the place of mourning with Grandma and Madeline. 
 I spoke to him, and shrank instinctively from his face 
 as he turned it towards me. It was swollen and disfig- 
 ured with weeping. He had bruised it, too, in falling. 
 He rose, trembling, and walked with me. For my own 
 part, the emotional had given place to feelings of a 
 more sustained and ordinary nature. 
 
 I strove to impress upon Harvey's mind the beautiful 
 and poetic manner in which his father had been released 
 from his sufferings.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 217 
 
 I reminded him of the shortness of life, " even from 
 your point of view, Harvey ; " and the necessity there was 
 always, for not allowing ourselves to be overcome by our 
 griefs or passions, or diverted from the supreme satis- 
 faction of performing our appointed tasks, etc. 
 
 And Harvey listened patiently throughout, and said 
 "good night," with a brave attempt at a smile, and a sob 
 Still choking in his throat. 
 
 I turned an instant, to look at him as he walked away. 
 He wore, generally, a coat of ministerial form and com- 
 plexion ; this, taken in connection with his round, laugh- 
 ing face, his boyish figure, and propensity for playing 
 tricks, had often made me smile, hitherto. But, now, 
 there was something in the attitude of those long, black 
 tails that brought the tears to my eyes. 
 
 It occurred to me, indirectly, what Emily had said 
 about my stringing words together, and I marvelled if 
 possibly my exhortation had soared over poor Harvey's 
 head and left his heart aching for an ordinary word of 
 sympathy, or a simple reference to One who as a man of 
 sorrows, was best fitted to understand and console his 
 grief. To any sentiments of the latter nature, Harvey 
 was particularly susceptible. 
 
 " Children, all of them ! " Thus gently apostrophizing 
 the Wallencampers, I dismissed the cause of my brief 
 mental discomfiture, with a half-pitying smile. 
 
 The day after Mr. 'Lihu's death, I looked down from 
 my desk in school to see the infant Sophronia weeping 
 bitterly. 
 
 " What is the matter, Sophronia ? " I said. 
 
 " Carietta's been to see the cops twice," she sobbed; 
 u and I ain't been any."
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 I only gathered from this that Carietta was somehow 
 implicated as being the cause of the infant Sophronia's 
 sufferings. 
 
 " Now," said I gravely ; " tell me what you mean ? " 
 
 " She means the cops ! " cried Carietta, her small face 
 distorted with a leer of the most horrid satisfaction. 
 ** 'Lihu's cops. 'Phrony means the " 
 
 " That will do," I said. " I understand you perfectly. 
 I understand you only too well. This is about as bad," 
 I reflected ; " as anything in my experience." 
 
 After admonishing my pupils with that sincere emotion 
 to which the occasion had given rise, that they should 
 speak always respectfully of their elders, but especially 
 in the most tender and solemn tones of the dead ; after 
 pointing out to them the perniciousness of a low and 
 vulgar curiosity, and expatiating on the vastness and 
 superiority of the spiritual life, compared with the earthly 
 and carnal, I paused, only to give, further on, a fuller 
 illustration to my words, and said : 
 
 " Now, Sophronia, you have an immortal soul ? " 
 
 There was evidence of some faint hankering in 
 Sophronia's face as she mentally ran over the list of her 
 possessions. 
 
 " No'm," said she; " I hain't but I've got a corny- 
 copia ! " 
 
 I think it was then and there that my hopes for the 
 elevation of juvenile Wallencamp received their death- 
 blow, and my labors, which had before been cheered by 
 a dream of partially satisfying success, at least, took on 
 an utterly goal-less and prosaical form. 
 
 These children, I was forced to admit, regarded the 
 day of Mr. 'Lihu's funeral as a holiday of rare and 
 special interest, mysteriously bestowed by Heaven.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 219 
 
 Aunt Rhoda had previously informed me that it was 
 expected I would have no school that afternoon. 
 
 The West Wallen minister officiated on the occasion 
 with an aspect neither more nor less funereal than he 
 had worn at Lovell's wedding. He spoke in such a 
 labored, trumpet-like tone of voice that the Wallen- 
 campers seemed, at first, inspired with a lively hope, 
 expecting momentarily that his breath would give out, 
 but in this they were doomed to ever-increasing disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 At length, Captain Sarteil drew a bucketful of fresh 
 water from the well, and passed it around the room, 
 winking expansively at each individual in turn, by way 
 of silent encouragement and support. 
 
 Grandma Bartlett, observing the generally tearless 
 aspect of the community, conscientiously attempted to 
 weep, but being entirely out of tears, at her time of life, 
 she only succeeded in screwing her face up into what, 
 in earlier years, might have appeared as a lachrymose 
 expression, but now took the shape of a fixed and ogreish 
 grin. 
 
 The infant Sophronia was seated on a bench of an 
 exceedingly temporary nature, between Grandma 
 Keeler and Aunt Lobelia, both persons of weight, and 
 it so chanced, or, rather, it followed as a matter of 
 course, an equal pressure being applied to both sides, 
 that the board sustaining the three, broke directly under 
 that diminutive victim of fate, awaking her thereby from 
 feverish slumber ; and whether the infant Sophronia had 
 an immortal soul or not, no one there present could 
 doubt that she possessed an uncommon pair of lungs, 
 
 The little room where we sat was hot and overcrowded
 
 20 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 and the thought was running in my mind continually t 
 " Poor, restless Wallencampers ! and how happy Mr. 
 TLihu is not to have any connection with his funeral." 
 
 When the procession was about to start for the bury- 
 ing-ground, the request was made to me that I would 
 blow the horn, even as the bell is usually tolled on such 
 occasions, for it would seem inappropriate for one of the 
 Wallencampers to do so* they all having been related to 
 the deceased. 
 
 At such a time, I could not refuse, though the emotions 
 with which I crossed over to the school-house to perform 
 this grim duty, were of a nature best known to, and 
 appreciated by, myself. My terror of the Wallencamp 
 horn had waxed daily. I believed that there was nothing 
 in the whole world of inanimate things on which I would 
 not sooner have attempted to sound a funeral dirge. 
 Though capable of some variety of expression, it had 
 never yet been seduced into emitting any sound in the 
 least indicative of the designs struggling in the mind of 
 the blower. The human was paralyzed before it a 
 mere machine to blow into it and let come what would. 
 And, now, for the first time in my experience, it took on 
 a jubilant strain. I blew slowly ; I blew solemnly. Still, 
 it sounded like nothing else than a glad, exultant rally- 
 ing-call. 
 
 I paused, horrified. From the rear of the moving 
 procession, Aunt Patty, with a yell and a frantic gesture 
 of the hands, entreated me to " keep a blowin' ! " 
 
 And, as I stood thus on the steps of the deserted 
 school-house and blew, only to hear the wild lamenta- 
 tions of my soul translated into strains of fiendish mirth 
 through the medium of the horn, the Turkey Mogul,
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 arrived on his second visit of examination to the Wallen- 
 camp school, seemed to be descending before my eyes, 
 in a vortex of the giddy atmosphere. In fact, he was 
 alighting from his buggy, and a grim, though reassuring 
 smile sat on his features. 
 
 " I see ! I see ! " he nodded his head. " You've 
 given them a good start," he added, succinctly, indicat- 
 ing the direction of the Wallencampers ; " humph I 
 yes ! they are always up to something ! " 
 
 He thrust his hands in his pockets, and, maintaining 
 the same sardonic grin, he, too, stood and watched that 
 receding column. 
 
 It was an odd combination of circumstances. I had 
 ceased my mad though involuntary jubilate, on the 
 horn, and was slowly aspiring to that equanimity of 
 mind which the exigencies of the case seemed to re- 
 quire, when the Turkey Mogul turned abruptly, and 
 without speaking a word, handed me a soiled and 
 wrinkled little sheet of paper, the contents of which 
 caused my heart, for an instant, to cease beating, and 
 then set it throbbing with a wild joy and exultation. 
 
 It was simply a petition wrought out of whose brain 
 I know not, but most curiously inscribed in Aunt Patty's 
 own hand, and signed by all the Wallencampers, with 
 "CAPTAIN SARTELL," at the head, and "b. lot" 
 at the foot to the effect that it was their desire that 
 my labors might be longer continued among them. 
 
 Only one, who, having made a play-day of life, turns, 
 at last, to attempt some earnest work, and fails, as he 
 believes, utterly, and then catches a glimpse of unex- 
 pected light in the darkness, can understand the impulse 
 given me by that dirty little scroll. It was such happi-
 
 222 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 ness as I had never felt before. It made me strangely 
 weak. 
 
 "You'll stay," said the Turkey Mogul, at length, 
 " another term, or we'll consider this term extended, ii 
 you please." 
 
 " I'll stay a few more weeks, anyway," I said, and the 
 Turkey Mogul must have marvelled at the childish faith 
 and joy with which I clung to this new-found rock of 
 my salvation ; " but I hadn't thought of it before," I 
 added, a little faintly, thinking of home. 
 
 " You're tired ! " said the Turkey Mogul, almost sym- 
 pathetically ; " and hungry j " he subjoined, quickly, in 
 a different tone. 
 
 I knew by this time that the Turkey Mogul's eyes 
 were dangerously prone to have twinkles in the corners 
 of them, yet I believe I met their derisive questioning 
 with a simple seriousness in my own. 
 
 " Well, that's right ! " he exclaimed. " Stick to 'em ! 
 Stick to 'em ! I'll be down to conduct another 
 humph ! another examination in a week or two. Good- 
 bye ! " and he gave me his hand, and was off almost 
 before the little line of mourners had disappeared over 
 the crest of the hill. Yet I remember that Grandma 
 Bartlett, who had been deterred by the infirmity of age 
 from joining the procession, and had remained at the 
 window, alone, regaled the Wallencampers, on their 
 return, with a choice fancy, in which the Turkey Mogul 
 and I had stood " talkin' and chatterin' on the school- 
 house steps, for an hour or more." Grandma Bartlett, 
 though not actively disposed to work mischief, nor pos- 
 sessed, indeed, of any animate quality, still cherished a 
 few of the dry formulas of scandal, which she applied to
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 223 
 
 any seemingly favorable combination of circumstances. 
 The Wallencampers, at any time, paid but little attention 
 o her words. 
 
 And, at the close of this strange day, I sat alone, in 
 my little room in the Ark, and indited a letter to the 
 following effect : 
 
 " Having received gratifying overtures from the peo- 
 ple of my charge, I had decided, for reasons which I 
 could not then explain, to remain at Wallencamp until 
 May, to which time I looked forward with the delight- 
 ful hope of seeing my dear ones once more. 
 
 "Meanwhile, I hoped they would not consider it 
 strange, or ungracious of me to say that I should very 
 much prefer not to have Brother Will, or any one else, 
 come to Wallencamp to look after me, as Brother Will 
 and some others had kindly suggested doing. It would 
 seem to imply that I was not capable of taking care of 
 myself, a mania which I trusted no longer held posses- 
 sion of the family brain. Moreover, Wallencamp, 
 though so charming a place, had but few facilities for 
 the accommodation of guests. I should draw on my 
 salary, now, very shortly, and would then remit the 
 sums I had borrowed in mere temporary embarrass- 
 ment," etc.
 
 224 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 BECKY'S CONFESSION. 
 
 HE Wallencamp bonfire, like Christmas or a 
 Fourth of July celebration in less ingenious 
 and erratic communities, came only once a year. 
 It was kindled on Eagle Hill, that runs out from the 
 mainland of Wallencamp into Herrin' River, the 
 Wallencampers called the Hill an island, and from 
 most points of view it answered to the geographical 
 description of "Land entirely surrounded by water," 
 seeming, indeed, to stand solitary in the river, with an 
 air of infinite repose on its broad, sloping sides ; green 
 and gold, so I remember it ever, with the sun setting 
 over it in the spring-time, green and gold, in a crimson 
 river ! 
 
 It had an air of sublimity, too, looking over and 
 beyond the cedars to the bay, and down the length of 
 the winding stream that fretted at its feet or lapped 
 them quietly. 
 
 There I planned to build a house, in some bright 
 future day, that should be in effective keeping with 
 the natural grandeur of the place, quaint, lordly, sub- 
 stantial, with the appearance of having fallen somewhat 
 into disuse, ivy growing over the dark stone walls, and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 22$ 
 
 moss in the winding drives, and carved lions at the 
 gate. 
 
 The hill was a favorite resort of mine, and Rebecca 
 had generally accompanied me on my excursions thither. 
 
 Once she said it was in the days when she had 
 been happier " I guess this place is just as God made 
 it to begin with." 
 
 Rebecca had been struck with and had retained an 
 idea which she had probably heard promulgated some- 
 time at the West Wallen Sunday-school, that, at the time 
 of man's spiritual fall, the earth also, with all terrestrial 
 things, had undergone a general mixing up. Her own 
 idea in regard to Eagle Hill she expressed very modestly, 
 looking off with a childish content and assurance in her 
 eyes. And I was delighted with her. 
 
 " You are always thinking such things as that," I ex- 
 claimed, enthusiastically. " I know you are ! " 
 
 Rebecca blushed, smiling, and shook her head. 
 
 " I ain't often sure," she said. 
 
 I think I told her then that when I had my house on 
 the hill, she should be the housekeeper to guard my 
 keys and conduct my affairs ; " that is, my dear, attend 
 to all the little practical details connected with living," 
 and Rebecca, to whom my castles on the Hill were never 
 castles in the air, but who believed most implicitly that 
 I would, sooner or later, perform all things that ever I 
 dreamed of doing, accepted her prospective matronship 
 with a becoming sense of its advantage and dignity. 
 
 Eagle Hill was haunted by a horse, a pure white 
 horse not Lovell's with a flowing mane and tail, 
 and a beautiful arched neck. His motions, the Wallen- 
 campers said, were most fiery and graceful. Occa-
 
 226 CAPE COD FOLKS 
 
 sionally he paused and fell back, quivering on hit 
 haunches, looked this way and that, and then, with a 
 wild plunge, swept on again, swifter than before. Every 
 true Wallencamper could both see and hear the " white 
 horse " when, at night, clearly outlined against the sky, 
 he galloped back and forth along the very summit of 
 the hill. 
 
 It was on one of the blackest nights of the season 
 that the fuel, which less grand and poetic souls would 
 doubtless have reserved for another winter's use, was 
 borne in jubilant triumph by the Wallencampers up 
 the sides of this sacred and illustrious steep, and there 
 consumed in a most glorious conflagration. The spec- 
 tacle was appalling. At intervals in the roaring and 
 crackling of the flames was heard the roar of the near 
 ocean, while the familiar features of the landscape and the 
 faces of the encircling spectators, stood out with unreal 
 and terrible distinctness in the hellish light. 
 
 Emily, who had coughed all the way climbing up the 
 hill, stood stirring the fire with a long pole, and making 
 reckless and facetious remarks the while, which, uttered 
 in the midst of that unearthly scene, struck me cold 
 with horror. 
 
 " Come, Bachelder," said she ; " git onto the end of 
 my pole, and I'll hold ye over there a while. Ye might 
 as well be gittin' used to it ! " 
 
 " Heh ! yes," said Bachelor Lot. " But what I'm 
 a thinkin' is, you'd ought to have a subordinate. I never 
 heered heh \ of putting a person of such importance 
 in the Kingdom heh ! however efficient into the 
 position of Fire Tender ! " 
 
 "Crazy Silvy" was at the bonfire. I had never
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 227 
 
 seen her before. Silvy did not go out on ordinary 
 occasions. I watched her as she stood with a scant, 
 thin shawl thrown over her head, looking intently into 
 the flames, shivering often, and smiling as she moved 
 her lips in apparently delightful conversation with 
 herself. 
 
 Some of the children essayed to tease her ; she seemed 
 quite unconscious of their efforts, but I turned and 
 spoke to them rather sharply. The next time I looked 
 up, her strange, smiling eyes were fixed full on my face. 
 I glanced away quickly, with a nervous shiver, and moved 
 a little farther off. As I did so, Silvy, regarding me in 
 that same dreamily contemplative manner, walked 
 toward me a step or two, and as I continued to move 
 away, she walked slowly after me. 
 
 My acquaintance with the unconfined insane had not 
 been extensive enough to allow me to regard her 
 motions with that mingled amusement and curiosity, 
 which was the only sentiment expressed on the counte- 
 nances of the Wallencampers who stood watching us ; 
 but I concluded that it was better to face about, and 
 meet my pursuer with an air of fearlessness. I did so, 
 and held out my hand to her as she came up. 
 
 " How do you do, Silvy ? " I said. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Silvy, thrusting her hands behind 
 her, laughing softly, and shaking her head. " Not with 
 the queen of heaven ! Not with the queen of heaven ! " 
 
 I thought I detected Emily's derisive influence in 
 this poor, simple creature's words. Silvy was so per- 
 fectly mild and harmless in appearance, however, that I 
 began to feel reassured. 
 
 " I've heard about you, Silvy," I continued, cheer-
 
 22 8 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 fully. " I'm the teacher, you know. You've heard 
 them speak of the teacher ? " 
 
 " So glad," continued Silvy, in the same low, cooing 
 tone ; " so glad to meet the queen of heaven." 
 
 " Hush ! " said I then. " You mustn't say that again. 
 Draw your shawl up tighter." For in spite of the bon- 
 fire, the wind was blowing cold on the hill. 
 
 While I spoke Silvy had become absorbed in watching 
 the fire again. I would have walked quietly away, but as 
 I turned to go she thrust her head towards me quickly 
 and whispered : 
 
 " Wait ! don't you ever tell ! " 
 
 Silvy put her hand to her lips. 
 
 " No," said I, smiling. 
 
 "Silvy never told," she went on; "except to you. 
 You've got a key. Silvy's got a key. She keeps things 
 all locked up, Silvy does. Emily don't have nny key. 
 She talks she talks all over don't you tell but 
 Silvy lives with Emily so bad," said Silvy, heaving a 
 gentle sigh and speaking In a tent, of the deepest 
 confidence ; " so bad not to have any key/ 
 
 " That's true, I think," said I, beginning to find my 
 strange companion rather interesting. 
 
 "Yes." Silvy nodded her head several times as 
 though we understood, we two, and she was delighted 
 to have discovered the fact. 
 
 Then her eyes wandered again to the fire, and she re- 
 sumed her happy, smiling conversation with herself. 
 
 I thought she had forgotten me, or concluded not to 
 unlock anything with her key, when she turned slowly 
 and looked at me, and seemed to gather up the lost 
 train of her ideas in my face.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 229 
 
 " Silvy watched the fishermen at Emily's," she went 
 on. " They said, ' Poor Silvy ! ' ' See you again next 
 time, Silvy ! ' They are very p'lite, thank you, and they 
 laugh once. ' Ha ! ha ! ' But David Rollin, he laughs 
 twice. ' Ha ! ha ! ' and behind his sleeve, too. Such 
 things are damnable ! " 
 
 Silvy's dulcet tones ran over that hard word with the 
 mildest and softest of accents. 
 
 " And they bring wine," she continued. " Silvy 
 cl'ared off the table one night. She heard 'em sing, 
 and they says to him, ' What about pretty Beck ? ' and 
 he says ' We must have a little fun, you know, ha ! ha ! ' 
 and then, ' ha ! ha ! ' behind his sleeve. Now if Silvy 
 could keep it all together, you'd straighten it out maybe. 
 Silvy can't straighten it out. Where did she hear so 
 much, I wonder ! She hears too much, Silvy does." 
 
 She knitted her brows in pitiful perplexity. 
 
 " You were talking about the fishermen," said I. 
 
 " No," said Silvy, shaking her head ; " about Beck. 
 She never says, ' Crazy Silvy ! There she goes ! Look 
 at Silvy ! ' She says, ' Come and see me, Silvy,' so 
 So soft spoken. Silvy loves her." 
 
 " I love her, too," I said, gently ; for Silvy had paused 
 again, and was knitting her brows in that painful man- 
 ner, as though the effort to think gave her actual phys- 
 ical suffering. 
 
 " Silvy knows ! Silvy knows ! " She exclaimed sud- 
 denly, her face all smooth and softly smiling now. 
 "Never you trust a neat man," impressively. 
 " Never you trust 'em for why ? They wasn't made 
 so. God made 'em. God made 'em to clutter. And 
 there was that Dave Rollin. He was always a'
 
 23 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 hangin* things up. He was always foldin' of 'em. He 
 was always a hangin' 'em up in his room. Silvy knows. 
 But there was a piece of writin' got over behind the 
 bury. And it didn't fall. But it stuck. Silvy knows. 
 She reads writin'. She reads it over and over. He 
 didn't love Beck any more. But he's afraid. And he'll 
 give money. ' Oh, go anywhere ! Only keep still, Beck. 
 For Heaven's sake, keep still.' Why, she wouldn't 
 hurt him ! Beck wouldn't hurt him," said Silvy, in a 
 slow tone full of wonder. 
 
 " He needn't be afraid. But Silvy won't tell him so. 
 Why not ? Oh, she likes to be amused. Silvy likes to 
 be amused ! 
 
 " Silvy knows ! Silvy knows ! " She continued, after 
 another terrible pause. " She set eyes on you, standin' 
 there. That's the one, she says, and she says it a long 
 time. That's the queen of Heaven. She wouldn't 
 hurt Silvy, poor Silvy ! She's got a key. So she'll 
 straighten it out maybe. Silvy can't, she's so tired. 
 When Silvy got up in the mornin', it was early. Oh, so 
 still ! And a bird was flyin' up up. Silvy couldn't 
 see so far to heaven. It made Silvy cry. So strange 
 not to be any tired in the mornin'." 
 
 Silvy made a last painful effort to collect her thoughts, 
 before her face resumed its habitual, far away, half smil- 
 ing expression. 
 
 Then she said, " Silvy comes up the hill all alone. 
 Not the way them others, and she see the fire burnin*. 
 But it was dark in the bush. Silvy heard 'em talkin' 
 terribly. It was Beck and George Olver. ' I'll make 
 an honest home for you, Beck.' And she says, terribly, 
 she no deserve. And he says, she better than him, and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 231 
 
 won't she come ? And she cries so, * My heart is 
 broke I ' And how good to live with him she knows, 
 now so honest and true but she no fit, and, oh, 
 ' My heart is broke ! my heart is broke ! ' " 
 
 The scene, the vividness of these words had not yet 
 faded in the least from Silvy's memory. 
 
 " Then," said she ; " they keep on talkin', terribly. 
 But Silvy she hears so much poor Silvy! She 
 goes 'round very still, 'nother way. Silvy's tired." 
 
 And, as unceremoniously as she had approached me, 
 she turned and walked slowly back to her old position 
 before the fire. She did not look at me. She seemed 
 to have become utterly unconscious of my presence. 
 The scant, thin shawl had fallen back from her head. 
 She shivered as she stood gazing into the flames, but 
 the dreamy expression was ever in her eyes and the soft 
 laugh on her lips, as she continued murmuring to her- 
 self. 
 
 The Wallencampers were not content to let the fire 
 go out after the first grand illumination. They were 
 bringing up more brush from the landward side of the 
 hill, amid a confusion of wild shouts and excited laughter. 
 
 I found Rebecca among a group of girls. 
 
 "When you go home to-night," I said; "I want you 
 to step in and see me. Come up to my room." 
 
 "Yes," said Rebecca, and I noticed how pale she 
 turned in the fire-light. I did not say any more to her, 
 then. 
 
 After hearing Silvy's story, I believed that Mr. 
 Rollin had acted a heartless and unmanly part towards 
 Rebecca, made love to her which he could not doubt 
 the poor girl took in earnest, and even promises which
 
 332 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 he knew he should lightly break sometime, and then, for 
 his own purposes, he begged her to keep silence. I 
 thought I understood, and resolved to instruct Rebecca 
 to forget the red-haired fisherman ; to be " sensible," 
 and " marry good, honest George Olver," who loved her 
 so devotedly. 
 
 Lute Cradlebow had come home, and was one among 
 the many figures at this brilliant fete. Indeed, the bon- 
 fire had been deferred until later than usual in the sea- 
 son, by reason of his absence, and now he was notice- 
 ably the lion of the evening, in a brave dark blue cravat 
 that was borne outward by the wind, or fluttered becom- 
 ingly under his chin, to the envy and despair of all the 
 Wallencamp youth. He exchanged a pleasant greeting 
 with every one, and brought the largest young tree of 
 all up the hill on his broad shoulders. 
 
 When, at length, the Wallencampers had permitted 
 the fire to burn low, they joined hands in a ring around 
 the embers, and sang the saddest and sweetest songs in 
 the Hymnal. I sat on a rock near by, engaged as I 
 had been much of the time since my arrival in Wallen- 
 camp, in trying to realize the situation the awful 
 gloom of the night, the river now invisible, below, the 
 sound of the surf farther off, that made my heart sick, 
 and with it the strange mingling of those religious 
 songs, the lonely hill, the smouldering fire, the fantas- 
 tic group gathered around. 
 
 When I got back to the Ark, I found Rebecca wait- 
 ing for me. She followed me up to my room, and I 
 closed the door. 
 
 " You see I waited long enough for you to come of 
 your own accord," I said, laughing. Then I drew a
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 233 
 
 chair in front of her. She sat at the foot of the bed, 
 and I addressed her gravely : 
 
 " Now, Becky, something is the matter. You are not 
 the merry, light-hearted girl you were when I first knew 
 you. And I can help you, perhaps. I will help you. 
 Tell me what the trouble is ! " 
 
 I thought I should see the tears gathering in 
 Rebecca's eyes, but she looked, instead, so stonily dis- 
 consolate, that I was rather dismayed. 
 
 " I'm going to tell you," said she ; " but you can't help 
 me. They'll all know before long, I guess. I don't care. 
 You talk good, but you don't say much about God. I 
 guess you don't believe there is none. I don't. I can't 
 understand. I'm like I'd got lost, somehow, and when 
 they found me, they'd stone me I don't care. I've 
 felt enough. I don't feel no more. I've cried so much, 
 I guess I can't cry no more. If I could it 'ud be now, 
 tellin' you. 
 
 " When Miss Waite came here to teach, I hadn't ever 
 had no friend except the girls here, and they wasn't bad, 
 but we was always runnin' wild around in the lots, and 
 down to shore, and always laughin' and plaguin' the 
 teacher in school. And when Miss Waite came, she 
 wasn't like you, nor she didn't have such clothes, nor 
 such ways as yours. I didn't love her very much, but 
 she used to talk to me, and wanted me to be a Christian. 
 And she didn't tell me all it was to be a Christian like 
 you have, or I wouldn't 'a' been such a fool to think I 
 could be; but she talked like it wasn't anything to 
 understand, only to want Christ in your heart, and try 
 to be good, and, first, I didn't pretend to mind much 
 what she said, and used to tell the girls, and they'd tell
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 me, too, and we'd laugh. Only one time, she was talkin* 
 to me, and it seemed as though I couldn't hold out no 
 longer, and I cried and cried, and when I got up I felt 
 happy. Just as though He was there. Seemed as 
 though He was all around everywhere, and goin' down 
 the lane, there was a whip-poor-will singin', and it 
 sounded like it never had before so strange and happy 
 and I always loved 'em after that but I never shall 
 again. 
 
 " And I tried to be good, and quieter, and have the 
 other girls and the children at home ; and when father 
 was drunk and noisy, and some of the folks laughed, I 
 wouldn't give up quite. Oh, I didn't feel like I was 
 bad then ! I didn't ! You might remember that. I 
 hadn't much manners, but I never thought anything bad. 
 Some time you might remember that. 
 
 " Then Mr. Rollin came, and he might 'a' killed me, 
 and it 'ud been a kindness ; but he hadn't no such kind 
 heart as that. He used to make excuses for meetin' me. 
 He wouldn't look at any of the other girls. He said he 
 couldn't see no beauty in anybody else. He said I was 
 the only one on earth he loved. He said he wouldn't 
 care what became of him if I wasn't good to him. 
 
 " I thought George never talked to me so much as that, 
 and I trusted him every word. It was all so different. 
 I thought I loved him, too. He talked about how he 
 should take me to Providence, and I said I hadn't much 
 manners or education, and they'd laugh at me. He said 
 there wasn't another such a face there, and if he was 
 suited, they might laugh. And he used to talk about hovr 
 I'd look all dressed up in his house, down there and 
 I don't see ! I don't see ! I trusted every word.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 335 
 
 " It wouldn't have been no different, anyway. I loved 
 you when you came. When he went with you, I tried 
 to hate you. I hated him, but I never hated you ! In 
 my heart, teacher, I never hated you. You might think 
 of that, some time " 
 
 "Well, my dear little girl," I interrupted her; "it 
 seems we have both been deceived in the fisherman, but, 
 doubtless, we shall recover in time. You don't like 
 him, neither do I. We'll dismiss the subject from our 
 minds, forever. There's a good, honest boy here in 
 f Wallencamp that a girl I know ought to busy her head 
 about. Why trouble ourselves with disagreeable 
 things ? " 
 
 " You might think, some time," Rebecca went on, with 
 the same hopeless expression, and in the same tense 
 voice ; " I never knew that about not trustin' anybody 
 till you told me. I hadn't never be'n away from here. 
 I wasn't brought up like you, and I wasn't so strong as 
 you you might think, some time but not now. I 
 don't ask to have you now you don't see. I knew 
 you wouldn't you can forget you're so happy 
 think of that, sometime, how happy you was, sittin' there 
 but I never can forget any more. I say it 'ud be'n 
 better if I'd a died. It's the sin and the shame. I've 
 nothin' but to bear 'em, now, as long as I live. Oh, you 
 might think what it was not to have no hope any- 
 wheres ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " I cried, as it rushed over me 
 in that instant what I had been too heedless and slow 
 to comprehend, the possible wretched meaning of her 
 words. " What do you mean ? " rising and standing 
 over her, with a terrible sense of power to convict.
 
 236 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 "Oh, Becky, you didn't mean that worst?" 
 
 ** Yes," said she, with no visible change on her poor, 
 set face " yes I do." 
 
 " I wish you would go out of my room, and leave me ! " 
 I exclaimed, then ; " I am not used to such people as 
 you 1 Do you suppose I would have been with you all 
 these weeks if I had known ? Don't you see how you 
 have wronged me ? I never want to see you again, 
 never ! Go ! go ! and leave me alone ! " 
 
 I shall never forget the look with which Rebecca rose 
 wearily, and went to the door not an angry look, not 
 a look of terror nor even of pleading reproach ; but it 
 was as if her soul, sinful, crushed and bleeding though 
 it was, in that one moment, rose above my soul and 
 condemned it with sorrowful, clear eyes. 
 
 I listened to her step going down the stairs. I did 
 not call her back. I heard her latch the outer door of 
 the Ark. No thought of pity for her wrong, or commisera- 
 tion for her desolation moved me. I thought only in my 
 proud selfish passion, how miserably, how bitterly I had 
 been deceived. 
 
 I sought out the fisherman's letter before retiring, 
 and the one I had begun in answer, and tore them both 
 into shreds, believing that I should as easily rid my mind 
 of the whole miserable affair with which I had been 
 unwittingly complicated.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 337 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A MILD WINTER ON THE CAPE. 
 
 T'S be'n a mild winter on the Cape;" the 
 Wallencampers congratulated one another, 
 blinking, with a delicious sense of warmth and 
 comfort, in the rays of a strong March sun. 
 
 The Wallencampers were not, perhaps, generally in- 
 cited by that love of stern, unceasing, and vigorous exer- 
 tion which is, geographically considered, one of the 
 chief characteristics of our hardy northern races. True 
 poets and idealists, they were lazy, and they had but 
 few clothes, both excellent reasons for inclining kindly 
 to the warm weather. 
 
 And yet, notwithstanding this, they had grown used 
 to a wild ruggedness of nature and condition, a terrible, 
 sublime uncertainty about life and things in general 
 when the wind blew, missing which, in this earthly state, 
 they would have pined most sadly. And I do not be- 
 lieve that they would have exchanged their rugged, stornv 
 swept, wind-beleaguered little section of Cape Cod for 
 a realm in sunny Italy itself ; no, not even if the waves 
 of that bright clime had rippled over sands of literal 
 gold, and their winter had been nine months in the year 
 instead of the customary six and a half. 
 
 "A mild winter on the Cape." Grandpa Keeler
 
 238 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 often repeated the words ; and sitting by the fire at 
 night, his eyes grew big and wild, and his tones took on 
 a terrible impressiveness as he told of rough winters on 
 the Cape, when the snow lay drifted high across the 
 fences in the lane, and " every time she came in yender " 
 pointing in the direction of the Bay "she licked off 
 a slice or two o' bank, and the old Ark whirled and 
 shuk O Lordy, teacher! as ef she'd slipped her 
 moorin's and gone off on a high sea, and ef you'd a 
 heered the wind a screechin' inter them winders, you'd 
 a thought the " 
 
 "Bijonah Keeler!" Grandma Keeler spoke. She 
 said no more. It was enough. 
 
 "You'd a thought something had got loose, sure," 
 concluded Grandpa, with a keen glance aside to me that 
 revealed, as with tenfold significance, the obstructed 
 force of his narrative. 
 
 In the daytime, Grandpa was now much out of doors. 
 He had most frequent and loving recourse to an inter- 
 esting looking pile of rubbish at the south end of the 
 barn. There he sat, and napped and nodded, and em- 
 ployed the brief interims of wakefulness in whittling 
 bean poles, preparatory for another year's supply of 
 that dreaded and inexorable crop. Earth's disturbing 
 voices, Grandma Keeler herself, seldom reached him 
 there. 
 
 Early, too, I saw him in the garden, leaning pensively 
 on his hoe a becalmed and striking figure in a ragged 
 snuff-colored coat, and a hat marked by numerous small 
 orifices, through which, here and there, strands from 
 his silvery fringe of hair strayed and waved in the 
 breezes.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 239 
 
 It was Grandma and Grandpa Keeler's custom at the 
 first approach of spring to detach themselves from Made- 
 line's household, and to form a separate and complete 
 establishment of their own in the sunny kitchen, away out 
 at the end of the Ark. I was still, nominally, Madeline's 
 boarder, and sat at the table with her and the little 
 Keelers ; but the impulses of my heart were ever guiding 
 my feet to that other dear resort, where doors and hearts 
 seemed always open to receive me, and an inexpressible 
 warmth and light and comfort pervaded the atmosphere. 
 
 It was early in March, when, returning from school 
 one day at the noontide intermission, I found Grandma 
 standing without the Ark, singularly occupied. The 
 sun was shining on her uncovered head, and the tran- 
 quil glow on her face was clearly the exponent of no 
 fictitious happiness. In her apron she had a quantity 
 of empty egg-shells, so Carefully drained of their con- 
 tents as to present an almost perfect external appearance, 
 and these she was arranging on the twigs of a large 
 bush that grew just outside the window. 
 
 I was glad, afterwards, that I intruded then no skepti- 
 cal questions as to her purpose, for, as I stood and 
 looked at her, her action gradually lost for me the tinge 
 of eccentricity, with which it had at first seemed imbued. 
 I realized that theie was something grander than 
 reason, more exalted than philosophy. 
 
 " I suppose you've heerd about egg-plants, teacher ; " 
 said she, at length, turning to me, while the sun in her 
 face broke up into scintillant beams that penetrated my 
 being, and quickened my very soul. "This 'ere old 
 bush ain't bore nothin' for years, and it looked so bare 
 and sorrerful, somehow, standin' out here all alone,
 
 24O 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 and everything else a kinder wakin' up in the spring, I 
 thought I'd try to sorter liven it up a little; " and she 
 resumed her placid occupation. 
 
 "Blessed Grandma," I could only murmur, as I 
 turned to enter the Ark ; " inspired, delightful soul ! " 
 
 It was in March that the Wallencamp sun-bonnets 
 came forth, all in a single day, a curious and startling 
 pageant. The Modoc, who had gone bareheaded 
 through the winter, assumed hers as a turban of im- 
 pressive altitude, while the diminutive Carietta and the 
 infant Sophronia appeared but as vagrant telescopes 
 on insufficient pegs. 
 
 In March the " pipers " lifted up their homesick notes 
 at nightfall, in the meadows. On the last day of that 
 month, I found arbutus in bloom under the leaves in 
 the cedar woods. 
 
 Scarcely had the first faint signs of herbage appeared 
 on the earth ere the Wallencamp cows and horses were 
 given over exclusively to the guardianship of nature, 
 and to wander whithersoever they would, for the 
 Wallencamp fences had ceased to present themselves 
 as obstacles in the way. Indeed, some portions ot 
 them had been utterly obliterated , and this was easily 
 traced to a habit prevalent among the Wallencampers 
 of resorting to them for fuel when, on some winter 
 night, other resources were found to be low. 
 
 Other portions of them were decayed, or blown over 
 in the wind, so that there was just enough left to sit on 
 for private soliloquy, or social debate, and to give a pic. 
 turesque charm to the landscape ; yet, it was a fact 
 which I found worthy of notice, that, in going from one 
 place to another, no true Wallencamper ever walked
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 241 
 
 over a broken-down part of the fence, or went through 
 a gap in the fence ; he always selected an upright part 
 of the fence to climb over, even going a little out of the 
 way, if necessary, to effect this purpose. 
 
 The Wallencampers were staunch on the matter of 
 individual rights ; they turned each his own horse and 
 cow into his own door-yard. Animated, doubtless, by 
 something of the same principle, those attenuated an- 
 imals, having made an impartial detour of the premises, 
 congregated, as of one accord, along the highway, es- 
 pecially in that part of the lane between the Ark and 
 the school-house. 
 
 I made my way through these new perils from day to 
 day, in safety, until the deepening green of the hills and 
 fields called the herd away to wider pastures. 
 
 Dr. Aberdeen, however, remained behind. Dr. Ab- 
 erdeen, as he was termed by the Wallencampers, was 
 a horse of peculiar and distinguished parts. Among 
 his other eccentric gifts, he had a harmless habit of 
 chasing beings of a superior race. In what manner this 
 propensity had first manifested itself, I do r-ot know, 
 but it had been eagerly seized upon as ground for fur- 
 ther development by the juvenile element of Wallen- 
 camp, and especially by the Modoc, under whose lively 
 tuition the animal had reached an almost strategic 
 ability in the art. 
 
 Dr. Aberdeen was truly of the mildest disposition 
 imaginable. He had never been known to kick. He 
 had never even been known to open his mouth and 
 snap at a fly, but the. expression of his countenance, if 
 it might be so called, when he was on the chase, was 
 vicious and determined in the extreme, and by no means
 
 242 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 betrayed the purely facetious nature of his intentions. 
 During school hours he seldom wandered from the inv 
 mediate vicinity of the school-house, where he appeared 
 to be waiting for the children to come out to play. 
 Often have I looked up to see him gazing in at the 
 windows with a gleam of evil expectancy in his melan- 
 choly dun brown eye. 
 
 With the joyful advent of the spring came, also, 
 Tommy's tame owl and " Happy Moses." Tommy's 
 owl emerged from his winter-quarters, and took up his 
 daily post of observation on the fence on the shady 
 side of the school-house. He was blind in one eye, 
 which eye was always open, the other was always closed. 
 Yet with that one glassy, unblinking orb, Tommy's owl 
 seemed to me, as I lifted my eyes to the window, to be 
 reviewing the past with an indifference as calm and all- 
 embracing as that with which he sent his inexorable 
 gaze into the future ; and to take in me and the passing 
 events of the school-room as a mere speck in his kalei- 
 doscopic vision of the ages. 
 
 What vas the winter's thraldom from which Happy 
 Moses had escaped, I never learned. He was a broad- 
 shouldered fellow, six feet in height, with a beard like 
 flax, and a sunny, ingenuous countenance. What terra 
 should have been applied to his eccentricities in politer 
 circles I cannot say, but in Wallencamp, he was art- 
 lessly designated as "the fool." Whether it was on 
 this account, that with a certain rashness of perception 
 peculiar to the Wallencampers, they always prefixed the 
 adjective " happy " to his name, or merely on account 
 of the transparent sunniness of his disposition, I can- 
 not say, either.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 243 
 
 Happy Moses played with the children. He re- 
 garded me, as one of the class of those who presume 
 to teach, with mingled scorn and aversion. When I 
 went to the door to blow the children in from their play, 
 he invariably turned his back upon me, cocked his hat 
 on one side of his head, and walked away with an air 
 that was palpably reckless, defiant, and jaunty. 
 
 When he reappeared, it was usually with his knitting- 
 work, to which he devoted himself in a desultory way, 
 reclining on the school-house steps. But sometimes he 
 sat on the fence with the owl, and then it was noticeable 
 that while the gaze of the one was transient and silly, 
 the gaze of the other seemed to grow the more unutter- 
 ably searching and profound. So, at last, the new term 
 was fairly established with these three Dr. Aberdeen, 
 Happy Moses, and the owl. 
 
 Hulled corn and beans had now become but as a 
 dream of the past in Wallencamp, and for a brief sea- 
 son before the accession of lobsters, life was mainly sup- 
 ported on winter-green-berries, or box-berries, as they 
 were called. These grew in large quantities at " Black 
 Ground," a section of the woods which had been burned 
 over. Daily I met happy groups of Wallencampers, 
 with baskets and pails in their hands, going " boxberry 
 plummin' " 
 
 We had boxberry bread, boxberry stews and pies, and 
 one day, I caught a glimpse of Grandma, in her part of 
 the Ark, frying boxberry griddle-cakes. 
 
 Grandpa, when I met him, at this time, wore an air 
 of deep dejection ; yet he bore his woes in silence, 
 doubtless avoiding any concession that should suggest 
 the need of another clarification of his system. Once,
 
 244 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 when nobody was looking, he cautiously withdrew a 
 handful of scraped birch bark from his pocket and 
 gave it to me, remarking that he thought it was " a little 
 more bracin' than them tarnal woodsy plums." 
 
 Next in the order of events, as the Modoc stood in. 
 her place in the reading-class and slowly enunciated 
 ach separate syllable of the lesson in a tone as remark- 
 able for a loud distinctness as it was for a total lack 
 of meaning and modulation, from that side of her dress 
 which had been sagging most heavily, something fell 
 with a crash to the floor. It was a boiled lobster of 
 anomalous proportions. The pocket had given way at 
 last under its overpowering burden, and now appeared 
 ignominiously upborne on the claws of its former pris- 
 oner. The Modoc seized the crustacean with glittering 
 defiance in her eyes, and at recess, I saw that turbaned 
 Amazon devouring it, with a group of wistful and ad- 
 miring faces gathered round. The boys were out in the 
 bay " setting pots " and " trolling for bait." Soon, not 
 a child at Walleneamp was lobsterless. I discovered 
 two under the infant Sophronia's desk one morning, 
 and afterwards kept a sharp eye in that direction. So- 
 phronia's conduct throughout the session was in an 
 unusual degree exemplary. I detected no guilty blush 
 on her countenance, I heard not the crackling of a claw, 
 but when she went out. I observed that she took no 
 lobsters with her. 
 
 Investigating the place where she had been sitting, I 
 found a wild confusion of claws and shells, as carefully 
 denuded of meat as though they had been turned inside 
 out for that purpose. 
 
 What was my surprise and mortification to find a like
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 245 
 
 collection at nearly every seat in the school-room, and 
 all the while my flock had seemed unusually silent and 
 attentive ; such proficiency had those children acquired 
 in the art of dissecting lobsters. 
 
 I saw how many they devoured day by day, and how 
 much water they drank, and I fancied that they them- 
 selves grew to partake more and more of the form and 
 character of marine animals. I believed that they could 
 have existed equally well crawling at the bottom of the 
 deep or swimming on its surface. 
 
 We had lobsters, too, at the Ark. For the first day 
 or two of this dispensation, Grandpa's face perceptibly 
 brightened. At the end of two weeks it was longer 
 than ever before. 
 
 He came over from his potato patch, I remember, 
 and leaned on the fence, as I was going by to school. 
 
 " It's be'n a mild winter on the Cape, teacher," he 
 observed, studying the heavens with an air of utter 
 abstraction. Then his glance fell as it were inadvertently 
 in the direction of the house, and he immediately con- 
 tinued with a peculiar spark of animation kindling in his 
 eye ; " I've et so many o' them 'tarnal critters, teacher, 
 that I swon if I don't feel like a 'tarnal, long-fingered, 
 sprawlin' shell-fish myself \ But it's comin' nigh time 
 for ale-whops. They're very good, teacher, ale-whops 
 are very good, though they're bony as the they're 
 'tarnal bony, teacher. They're what we call herrin's in 
 the winter." 
 
 Grandpa then laughed a little and showed his teeth. 
 
 " I was goin' to tell ye, Bachelder Lot, here," he went 
 on ; " he was a' askin' Captain Sartell what kind o' fish 
 them was that it's recorded in the Scripters to 'a' fed
 
 246 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 the multitude, and then took up so many baskets full cf 
 leavin's ; and the Captain told him that as to exactly 
 what manner of fish them was, he hadn't sufficient 
 acquaintance with the book of Jonah to say, but, as near 
 as he could calk'late, he reckoned they was ale-whops. 
 
 " And the Bachelder told him that it seemed to him 
 he was right, and had solved a mystery, for it stood to 
 reason that there wa'n't no other fish but an ale-whop, 
 that they could feed five thousand folks out of seven 
 little ones and then take up twelve bushel baskets full of 
 bones ! 
 
 " And the Captain was pleased, and kind o' half owned 
 up that he hadn't felt no ways sure as to his surmise 
 to begin with, but he said when the question was put to 
 him, he didn't think no man ought to hesitate to come 
 down strong on a doctrinal p'int. 
 
 "Wall, as I was a sayin', teacher," concluded Grandpa, 
 his teeth still skinned and gleaming, " it's be'n a mild 
 winter on the Cape."
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 347 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 RESCUED BY THE CRADLEBOW. 
 
 HE ship in which the Cradlebow expected to 
 take flight was to sail from New Bedford on the 
 twentieth of June. Meantime, having abjured 
 my friendly relations with Rebecca, and missing the 
 quiet sustenance hitherto supplied my vanity in the 
 girl's thoughtful devotion, I found a measure of relief 
 for my wounded spirit in the companionship of this other 
 my boyish and ardent ex-pupil. 
 
 Many times, after my last interview with Rebecca, had 
 I regretted that I did not leave Wallencamp at the close 
 of the first term. The school grew continually more irk- 
 some to me. I was not so strong as when I had first 
 undertaken it, and no longer overlooked the discomforts 
 of my situation in the delight I had then experienced in 
 its novelty. Often I longed to get away from it all, to 
 rid myself abruptly of the perplexities and distasteful 
 duties which bound me ; and yet, all the while, there was 
 a truer impulse, a deeper longing within me, to stay. 
 Had I not been, all my life so far, forsaking my unfin- 
 ished tasks, quitting an object as soon as it seemed any 
 the less attractive. I willed to stay, and labored, still 
 blindly, under the conviction that my regenerating work 
 among the Wallencampers (not theirs in me ; ah, no !) 
 was not yet accomplished.
 
 248 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Toward Rebecca I had not softened. I was bitterly 
 disappointed in her. She had been the formless, pliable 
 clay, on which I purposed to prove my pet theories for 
 development and culture. I had taken her as a per- 
 fectly fresh and untainted being, naively unconscious 
 even, of the elements, either good or bad, of which her 
 own nature was composed, waiting only for the hand of 
 a wise and skillful modeller, like myself, to bring her up 
 to the highest condition of manners and morals. 
 
 This elegant superstructure, a purely mental product 
 of my own, had fallen away, revealing the erring, pas- 
 sionate nature beneath. But, deeply as I mourned the 
 fall of my idol, I felt still more keenly a sense of personal 
 injury, because the inner structure on which I had been 
 building, had not spoken out and said, " I shall contami- 
 nate you. I am not fit for the touch of your fine 
 hands." 
 
 Clearly there could no longer be any sympathy between 
 Rebecca and me. I avoided any occasion for private 
 interview with the girl. Meeting her casually in the 
 lane, or at the neighbors' houses, I acknowledged her 
 presence with a nod or a smile, colder, I knew, than as 
 if I had ignored her utterly. 
 
 She understood ; she was quiet and unobtrusive. She 
 made no attempt to break down the wall thus established 
 between us. And I was determined, on the whole, to 
 be more than just with Rebecca. I would be kind to 
 her in her disgrace. I would palliate her weakness as 
 far as I could consistently with a pure and high stand- 
 ard of action. I even congratulated myself on the 
 magnanimity of my intentions, except when I met the 
 clear, sad gaze of those dispassionate eyes. Then 1
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 249 
 
 experienced an unaccountable sensation, as though I 
 had received a blow inwardly, that staggered me, for an 
 instant, in my fine conceptions of honor, and set my 
 conclusions out of order. 
 
 The Wallencampers were quick to note the estrange- 
 ment between us, and affirmed that " Beck was mad, 
 and wouldn't speak to teacher, along o' teacher's goin* 
 with Beck's beau." 
 
 This gratuitous solution of .the mystery was not 
 evolved in my presence. Still I knew, that all through 
 those lonely, suffering days, it was often repeated to 
 Rebecca ; that those who had borne the girl any grudge, 
 or deemed that she was taking airs above them, took 
 pains, now, that the taunt should reach her ears ; and 
 even the children, who had always loved her, uttered it 
 before her with childish thoughtlessness. 
 
 But, for the Cradlebow ; his bright dream of seeking 
 his fortune over wide seas and in distant lands, his 
 dreadless enthusiasm in the belief that he should find 
 so much waiting for him in that unsounded world, his 
 determination, above all, to acquit himself truthfully 
 and bravely all these made him, to my mind, ever an 
 object of more inspiring and romantic interest. 
 
 He seemed, somehow, to have divested himself en- 
 tirely of the old, heedless irresolution. His speech 
 expressed little of doubt or hesitancy. It was full of a 
 bold, bright affirmation ; and his step, in these days, 
 had none of the ordinary slow, smiling, philosophical 
 Wallencamp shuffle. He brought to my weariness and 
 dejection such an atmosphere of vigorous, tireless life ; 
 he was so confident, helpful, unselfish ; I was so faith- 
 less and disheartened a burden-bearer; that I grew al
 
 250 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 most unconsciously to find for myself a certain rest in 
 his strength, which, whatever high and heroic qualities 
 it may have lacked, developed, at least, rare resources 
 of patience, constancy, and forbearance. 
 
 He did not say: "You have changed your mind, 
 you will wait for me, teacher, till I come back from over 
 the seas ? " but his eyes were eloquent. What if I was 
 moved, I had grown so weak, to answer their question, 
 at last, with a half-involuntary admission in my own. 
 
 Ah, no ! I assured myself that my attitude toward* 
 the Cradlebow was sisterly sisterly, merely al- 
 though I might have reflected that the yearnings of that 
 amiable affection had never, hitherto, in the ordinary 
 walks of life, constrained me to hem so many as a dozen 
 pocket-handkerchiefs for my brothers, which irksome 
 task I cheerfully performed as a surprise for the sailor 
 boy, not to speak of a pair of scarlet hose which I had 
 already begun to knit, under Grandma's tuition. 
 
 And now the life in Wallencamp seemed never like 
 real life to me, even in the broadest daylight. It was 
 like a dream the sweet, warm, brightening of the land- 
 scape ; the vines growing over the low, brown houses ; 
 the lazy, summer voices in the air ; the skies, too, were 
 a dream and Luther, with his ideally beautiful face 
 and his quaintness and ardor and unworldliness, was a 
 part of the dream. I knew that when he went away, I 
 should follow him long in my thoughts, and wonder 
 much concerning him ; that at home again with my own 
 people, in gayer, different scenes, I should never hear 
 the wind blowing up strong at night, or see the winter 
 settling down gloomily, or watch the opening of an- 
 other spring-time, without following him afar and woa
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 251 
 
 daring, with a vague, sorrowful, tender regret, what 
 
 chance was befalling him in the world. 
 
 Then an incident occurred which changed, not me, 
 perhaps, but the complexion of my dream. 
 
 One afternoon, at low tide, I wandered down to the 
 beach and ensconced myself comfortably, with book 
 and shawl, on the roof of Steeple Rock. The rock was 
 an old acquaintance of mine by this time. 
 
 There was a group of children playing, a little farther 
 down the beach. My eyes turned ever to them from 
 the written page, following them with a languid pleasure, 
 as they revelled in the sand at the water's edge with 
 their bare brown feet and legs. I had a sense of safety, 
 too, in their proximity. I knew that they generally 
 returned home passing by the place where I was. 
 
 It was warm on the rock. I was very tired. As I 
 lay there, I became only conscious, at length, that my 
 book was slipping out of my hand, and down the shelv- 
 ing side of the rock, and I was too listless to attempt to 
 reclaim it. I heard a little, dull thud on the ground 
 below, and a faint flutter of leaves and the long, 
 white beach, the ragged cliffs, the laughing children, 
 had faded from my sight. 
 
 Then I dreamed, indeed, in the ordinary sense of the 
 word ; I was back again in Newtown, in my own home, in 
 my own white bed, and I was very glad, looking at the 
 pictures on the wall, and out on the familiar hills. I 
 was glad to hear my sister playing for me down stairs, 
 only it was the same tune always, and I wished that she 
 would play more softly. 
 
 And the pillow was hard, but I did not mind that so 
 much, for my mother stood over me, looking very sweet
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 and grave, and she said : " Why didn't you tell us that 
 the pillow was hard ! " 
 
 My father was there, too, and repeated the same 
 question, and my brothers, they all kept saying: 
 " Why didn't you tell us that the pillow was hard ? " and 
 seemed to be pitying me and admiring me at the same 
 time, until John Cable came in, friend of the old New- 
 town days, and his face was hard and stern. 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me the pillow was hard ? " he 
 said. " Now, I can't wake you ! Don't you see, I 
 can't wake you, now ? " and he shook his head and 
 would not look at me. So they took him out of the 
 room, and went on pitying and admiring me, but my 
 sister kept playing louder and louder, and it troubled 
 me so that I could not rest. Then I heard a voice, 
 that was not in my dream, calling to me in a sharp, 
 clear, cheering tone, "Teacher! Teacher!" and I 
 looked up to see Luther coming towards me in a boat, 
 his face aglow with excitement. 
 
 This first before I realized that I had fallen asleep 
 on the rock, and that what I had dreamed was my sister 
 playing, was the sound of the tide coming in, and that I 
 was already sprinkled from head to foot with the spray. 
 The Cradlebow continued calling to me cheerily, and 
 would not give me time to consider the terrors of the 
 situation then, nor afterwards, when I strove, in my 
 half-stunned condition of mind, to weigh and appreciate 
 the peril from which I had been rescued. 
 
 The children had wandered a mile or more along the 
 beach and had gone home by another road. It was not 
 yet dark. No alarm had been occasioned in Wallen- 
 camp as to my absence, but the Cradlebow, knowing
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 253 
 
 that I had gone in the direction of the beach, had been 
 moved to search for me, and had discovered me on the 
 rock, where, in a few moments more, I should have 
 waked to find myself at the mercy of the waves. 
 
 My deliverer laughed reassuingly, sending the boat 
 leaping upon the shore, holding out his hand to me, as 
 though this were merely an everyday occurrence, the 
 close of some ordinary excursion, but, to me, life had 
 suddenly grown significant. 
 
 The strong warm hand which clasped mine, weak and 
 trembling, as I stepped from the boat, I must recognize 
 henceforth, I knew, as the link between me and the 
 living world. 
 
 For several days afterwards I considered the matter of 
 my relation to the Cradlebow in a new and serious light, 
 especially in the light of present gratitude, with a sensa 
 of life-long obligation ; but the Cradlebow was too gen- 
 erous and noble to recognize the obligation, or take 
 advantage of the gratitude. He loved me, I knew. He 
 had watched for me. He had saved my life. He should 
 know, I resolved, that if he wished it still I would wait 
 for him. 
 
 And the idea was not foreign to my heart, but 
 it grew, at last, too light of wing, and disposed to take 
 up permanent abode in the realm of fancy. A poor, 
 handsome young lover, seeking his fortune at the ends 
 of the earth, and the future ah, it did send a little stab 
 to my conscience, to think that the uncertainty of that 
 Sover's future should so have heightened, to my mind, the 
 romance of the picture. However, meeting him in the 
 lane one evening, as I was returning from one of my 
 parochial calls it was just at dusk, I remember, and
 
 254 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 we stood under the balm-of-Gilead tree, in front of 
 Emily's gate I said very gravely and with none of that 
 embarrassment which the occasion might seem to have 
 warranted : 
 
 " Luther, although I seem to myself mucn older than 
 you, we are really, I suppose, of about the same age. I 
 have known very happy attachments where inconsisten- 
 cies of birth, habit, education were far greater, perhaps, 
 than with us. I have made up my mind that, if you still 
 desire it, I will wait for you." 
 
 " Wait for me, teacher ! " exclaimed the Cradlebow, 
 opening his eyes with a solemn, wide surprise ; " why, of 
 course ! " 
 
 " Why, of course ? " I questioned faintly, not knowing 
 whether to smile at being thus abruptly disarmed, or to 
 feel the least little bit piqued at the youth's unconscious 
 audacity. 
 
 "What else should two people do who love each 
 other ? " There was nothing either of doubt or arraign- 
 ment in the Cradlebow's serious eyes. " Besides," he 
 continued; "I've known it all along. See here, 
 teacher 1 " and he took from his pocket, and carefully 
 unfolded, a sheet of paper against the background of 
 which there lay revealed a dainty star fish, most curiously 
 twisted about with some rare and beautiful sea vine. 
 
 " You won't find that vine washed up on this beach 
 every day," he said eagerly. " When I showed it to 
 Granny * If Heaven itself had spoken, boy,' says she, 
 4 1 should be no surer it was a fair voyage waiting you 
 than I be now ; ' though I was thinking of something 
 besides the voyage, teacher, but it's all the same, it means 
 jjood luck ; and wouldn't you like to keep it for us ? *'
 
 THE TEACHER AND REBECCA. 
 
 Scene from the Play.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 25$ 
 
 " Oh, no ! " I answered, laughingly refusing the deli- 
 cate talisman. " I should blast its good intentions. I 
 should stifle it with my cold unbelief." 
 
 The Cradlebow tenderly replaced his treasure, and 
 laughed with me good-naturedly. 
 
 "It isn't your fault, teacher," said he, "that you 
 weren't better brought up. If you'd always lived with, 
 our people, down here, you'd be more believing." 
 
 At all events, my severe and protracted mental exer- 
 tions had proved quite unnecessary, I thought, although 
 after this there was, in some respects, a tacitly admitted 
 change in our converse with each other. A sort of vague, 
 venturesome house-building for the future, in which the 
 Cradlebow seemed to wish that I would oftener show an 
 interest in the feminine details within doors, while I 
 had a grand and absorbing predilection for constructing 
 imaginary grades and turrets and mediaeval door-posts, 
 receiving any thoughtful suggestions as to tin-kettles 
 and pantry-shelves with gracious and smiling forbear- 
 ance. 
 
 The Cradlebow seemed particularly pleased, when he 
 came into the Ark of an evening, if I chanced to be 
 knitting on the scarlet stockings. I did have a new and 
 not unpleasant sense of housewifely dignity while 
 engaged at this task, and undoubtedly assumed an air 
 calculated to serve as an impressive exponent to my 
 emotion. The poor scarlet stockings lengthened, mean- 
 while, but it was a disheartening and almost imperceptible 
 growth. Where the article should have been most volu- 
 minous, at the calf of the leg, it grew, in spite of me r 
 more alarmingly narrow at every round. This was after 
 I had graduated from under Grandma Keeler's tuitioiv
 
 556 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 and assumed my own responsibility in the matter ; so 
 that I disdained to appeal to her for assistance in the 
 dilemma, but thoughtfully devised means of my own for 
 widening the stocking. 
 
 " I'll tell ye what it is, teacher," said Grandpa, who 
 had been^egarding me with that wild look which some- 
 times visited the old man's face when a problem seemed 
 well nigh insoluble; "I'm afeerd, teacher, I'm afeerd 
 that that ere stockin' ain't a goin' to fit nobody ! I'll 
 tell ye what it makes me think on. It makes me think 
 o' one o' these 'ere accordions that ye open and shet. 
 I'm afeerd, teacher, that it ain't a goin' to fit ! " 
 
 " Thar ! 'sh ! 'sh ! pa," said Grandma, with all the 
 unction of holy disapproval ; but, for once, my ever dear 
 friend and champion was compelled to turn her back 
 upon the scene. 
 
 In this position, she exclaimed in a low, broken tone 
 of voice ; " There may be legs, pa, as we don't know 
 on!" 
 
 Grandpa was curiously aroused. 
 
 " I tell ye, I've travelled to the four quarters of the 
 'arth, ma," said he ; " and set eyes on the tarnalest 
 critters under God's canopy, but I never see anybody yit 
 that 'ud fit into that 'ere. Besides," he added, know- 
 ingly, in a milder tone ; " I reckin that 'ere stockin's 
 meant for somebody nearer hum, and a pretty straight- 
 legged fellow, too." 
 
 I was enabled to judge something still further of the 
 speculations waking in the Wallencamp brain, when, 
 having to keep Henry G. after school, one night, as s. 
 means of discipline, he bawled out :
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 257 
 
 " Ye don't keep Simmy B. after school no more ! And 
 why not ? " continued the aggrieved infant, at the same 
 time framing for himself an answer of malicious signifi- 
 cance : " Oh, 'cause he's Lute Cradlebow's brother ! " 
 
 Social converse was at its high tide, now, in Wallen- 
 camp among the birds in the trees and the fowls in 
 the door-yards, and quite as naturally and harmlessly 
 so, for the most part, I think, among the beings of a 
 superior order. They had little other recreation. 
 
 The bonfire had marked the close of the gay epoch 
 in Wallencamp. It was too warm now for the livelier 
 recreations of the winter. Religious interest, especi- 
 ally, was at a low ebb. At the evening prayer-meetings, 
 the number of worshippers appeared but as a handful 
 compared with the number of the unconcerned who lin- 
 gered outside in the pleasant moonlight. Conspicuous 
 among these latter, replacing the fervid debates of the 
 winter with a calm philosophy befitting a warmer season, 
 were Captain Sartell and Bachelor Lot. 
 
 The old songs held the same charm for them all, how- 
 ever. They sang them ever with pathos in their voices 
 and tears in their eyes. 
 
 The little unpremeditated chats by gate and roadside, 
 the neighborly " droppings-in," grew more and more 
 frequent. 
 
 But when poor Rebecca was taken up on the tide of 
 social wonder and debate, and I heard whisperings con- 
 cerning her, and knew that an evil suspicion had taken 
 hold of the mind of the little community, and when 
 finally Emily said to me ; " I guess you done about 
 right shirking off Beck, teacher. I guess she ain't no.
 
 258 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 better than she ought to be : " in spite of what I felt to 
 be my own unblemished conscience in the matter and 
 the justice of the retribution which was overtaking 
 Rebecca, I went often to my little room and cried 
 bitterly for her, as well as for myself.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 DAVID ROLLIN IN THE SCHOOL-ROOM. 
 
 RS. PHILANDER KEELER grew kind. At 
 first, especially while the fisherman was in Wal- 
 lencamp, her demeanor towards me had been 
 marked by a decided touch of coldness and mistrust. 
 She suspected me, I thought, of trifling with the Cradle- 
 bow ; now, she invariably deferred to me as a person 
 worthy of all honor and consideration of congratula- 
 tion even, in an eminent degree. 
 
 She assumed to be on the most frank and confiding 
 terms with me. She found a thousand little ways for 
 promoting my physical comfort that had never occurred 
 to her before. 
 
 So I was the more surprised, when after school, one 
 Friday afternoon, as I was sitting in my room, this same 
 Madeline suddenly appeared before me with her eyes 
 glittering, her Jips compressed, and her complexion of 
 that positive green hue which it always wore when she 
 was in a high passion. 
 
 "There's a gentleman down stairs, waiting to see you, 
 teacher," she said, with a peculiarly dark inflection on 
 the word gentleman. " Oh, he's got on an awful inter- 
 esting look ! " snapped out Madeline, with a spiteful 
 little laugh ; " and a suit of light clothes, and a new
 
 JSfo CAPE COD FOLKS, 
 
 spring overcoat, and he looked at me as though I was a 
 pane of window-glass, and he says, 'Oh ah yes 
 is Miss Hungerford in ? ' I wonder if he's come back 
 to make his farewell calls " with another unpleasant 
 laugh. " One thing I can tell him, he'd better steer 
 clear of George Olver 1 " 
 
 Was ever a zealous young devotee, I pondered, more 
 perplexed ! 
 
 " Come this way, please," I said, holding out my hand 
 to Madeline ; and leaning back in my chair with unaf- 
 fected weariness, at least. " Is Mr. Rollin down 
 stairs ? " 
 
 " They call him that, I believe," said Madeline, sen- 
 tentiously ; " things don't always get their right names 
 in this world." 
 
 " Well, you may tell him," I said ; " that I can't see 
 him." 
 
 Madeline's countenance changed wonderfully in an 
 instant. She gave me a bright look, and without 
 waiting for another word, ran down the stairs. 
 
 When she came back her tongue ran on glibly : 
 
 " I told him," said she ; " that you couldn't see him, 
 and he kept on in that window-glass way of looking, 
 and his head as high as ever, and he took his hat and 
 ' I'm very sorry,' he says, ' that Miss Hungerford is 
 indisposed, and I hope I shall have an opportunity of 
 seeing her this evening.' 
 
 "He said he came to-day, and was going away to- 
 morrow morning, and he had something of importance 
 to communicate, and I knew he expected I'd go up and 
 see you again about it, but I didn't. So he said he'd 
 call again this evening or to-morrow morning, just which
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 261 
 
 'd be most agreeeble, and expected I'd budge then, sure, 
 but I didn't show any signs of it ; and I told him rightly, 
 I guessed one time would be about as agreeable as an- 
 other ; and I suppose he thought he wouldn't show mad 
 before such common bred folks. He smiled that 
 window-glass looking smile of his, and says ; ' Ah, 
 thank you ; now I won't detain you any longer, Mrs. 
 Keeler,' and out he went. 
 
 " I suppose he's come down to smooth everything 
 over, and have it hushed up with Beck and her folks. 
 Well, money'll do a good deal for a man, but it wouldn't 
 stand him much if he got into George Giver's hands. 
 However, teacher," concluded Madeline, in a sprightly 
 tone ; " give the Devil his due. It's better'n as if he'd 
 run off and never showed his head again ; and I don't 
 suppos- ^'11 get much satisfaction out of you, if you do 
 see him, teacher. It's better to trust honest folks than 
 rogues, and nobody knows that better than the rogues 
 themselves." 
 
 I knew that this last clause was not designed as a 
 personal thrust by Madeline, yet I could not help mus- 
 ing a little over it, smilingly, after she had gone. The 
 fiction, of which I was living a part, in Wallencamp, 
 was taking on, it seemed to me, a tinge even of the 
 tragic perplexities were deepening. I was becoming, 
 more than ever, the suffering though exalted heroine of 
 a romance. 
 
 I rose, and dressed myself before the glass, I remem- 
 ber, with particular care. I did not know why I should 
 dread or avoid seeing the fisherman in the evening, 
 since the part I had to sustain in the interview was so 
 iistinctly calm, dispassionate, and spiritually remote.
 
 262 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 At the same time, I wished that my cheeks had not 
 grown so pale and my eyes so dark-rimmed and hollow. 
 They bespoke the interesting part I had to play in the 
 world's tragedy, but were not, otherwise, so becoming as 
 I could have wished. 
 
 Earlier, the fisherman had sent me books from Provi- 
 dence. I would rather, I thought, that he should take 
 them back again. I remembered that I had left one of 
 them in my desk at the school-house, and put on my hat 
 to go after it. 
 
 " Going out to spend the evening, teacher ? " said 
 Madeline, as I opened the door of the Ark, giving me 
 at the same time a gay and knowing look. 
 
 " No," I said, gravely tolerant of the little woman's 
 surveillance ; " I'm only going to the school-house for a 
 book that I want. I shall be back in a few moments." 
 
 It was hardly dusk then. 
 
 Aunt Patty, as usual after school on Friday, had 
 swept the room and put down the dark and dingy paper 
 curtains. 
 
 I opened the door and stood an instant looking into 
 the gloom before entering. Then I saw that there was 
 some one sitting in my chair a man with his head 
 bent forward and buried in his arms, which were folded 
 on the desk. 
 
 It was Mr. Rollin, and before I had time to retreat, 
 he lifted his head and saw me standing at the door. 
 
 I had expected that the first revelation of that glance 
 would contain something of grief, wretchedness, re- 
 morse. The fisherman's countenance wore a shadow 
 of annoyance, but it was expressive, above all, of a 
 childish petulance and irritation.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 263 
 
 ' Oh ! " he exclaimed, speaking with the utmost ab 
 ruptness, and rising from the chair ; " if you had only 
 left this place at the end of the first term, it would have 
 saved the whole of this abominable misadventure ! " 
 
 " I don't think I understand you," I said, freezing now 
 in sober earnest. 
 
 " Because in your eyes only, it is a misadventure," he 
 continued rapidly, with growing excitement. "You 
 came to this miserable hole this Wallencamp re- 
 solved to view everything in a new light the light of 
 unselfish devotion to great ends, and exalted aspiration, 
 and ideal perfection, and all that. Well, how has the 
 wretched, giggling, conniving little community shown 
 out in that light ? I suppose there's one that larking 
 Cradlebow who has stood the test and come out 
 creditably, by reason of an uncommonly artistic shock of 
 hair and a Raphaelite countenance. As for me, taken 
 in the ordinary sense, I'm no worse than a thousand 
 others, but I say that it was a decidedly unfortunate light 
 to put me in ! It was a decidedly unfair light ! " 
 
 " I have no wish to judge you in any light," I said, 
 and explaining briefly my errand to the school-house, I 
 expressed regret at having interrupted the fisherman's 
 meditations, and turned to go. 
 
 " Miss Hungerford ! " he exclaimed, with a gesture 
 of whimsical force and impatience ; " it's my last chance 
 for an explanation. Don't, for God's sake, cut it short 
 at this point. You might know you might know, that 
 I'm not a bad fellow at heart. But you will never see 
 the best side of me there's fate in it. I never wanted 
 to seem specially contrite but I must set myself jumping 
 like a jack-in-the box for your infernally cold amuse
 
 264 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 ment ! I had an explanation at my tongue's end. D o 
 it! I don't remember a word of it." 
 
 " I don't think it is necessary," I said. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " he continued in a deeply aggrieved, almost 
 a whining tone ; " nothing's necessary that would set me 
 out in a little better shape ! Anything will do for these 
 grovelling Wallencampers, but just as soon as it comes 
 to me, all the extenuating circumstances of my life 
 that I was left so early orphaned, sisterless, brotherless, 
 my nearest of kin a wicked, carousing old uncle ; taken 
 to see the world here, and to see the world there ; home- 
 less, if ever one was homeless ; never trained to any 
 correct way of thinking, or settled manner of life, but 
 just to spend my money and aim at enjoying myself 
 they all amount to nothing in my case. 
 
 " Well, I used to come to Wallencamp just for that 
 same purpose to have a good time ; it was such a 
 jolly wild place to let the Old Nick loose in ; and now it 
 seems that's to be taken for a man's natural level, and 
 the best that he's capable of ! Then I met you. You 
 would voluntarily give up ease and luxury, for a time, 
 for the sake of an abstract idea whether misguided 
 or not, I will not say, the fact remains the same and 
 I swear it was a new revelation to me. It was strange 
 and perverse, and it was deuced taking ! Then I tried to 
 get you to include me among the objects of your mission, 
 to accept me as a candidate for temporal leniency and 
 final salvation, and you wouldn't. It is only the happy, 
 ragged, unconscious heathen that are looked out for in 
 this world ; the real ones don't get any sympathy." 
 
 The fisherman paused. 
 
 " I should be glad to give you the first lesson in the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 265 
 
 code of salvation," I said " that the fate of souls is 
 not left to human hands." 
 
 " Oh, I've heard that formula somewhere before ! " 
 exclaimed the fisherman, impatiently, with a little sneer 
 in his laugh. " Why don't you tell me that God will 
 help me ? Perhaps you will even remember me in your 
 prayers, some time." 
 
 At those last words an unbearable pang of self-con- 
 viction and remorse shot through my heart. I, who had 
 not felt greatly the need of any supernatural aid, but 
 rather that I was able to manage my own affairs with 
 becoming discretion of what saving power and grace 
 could I speak to one who was weak enough to fall, and 
 for whom there was no help in himself ? In the dark 
 school-room I involuntarily lifted my hands to my face. 
 When I heard the fisherman's voice again, he had come 
 a step or two nearer to me down the aisle. 
 
 " Let me tell you what I was thinking about when you 
 came in," he said, in an altered tone. " Rather, how I 
 was allowing my imagination to run away with itself, for 
 my own particular delectation. I was imagining, when 
 you opened the door and stood revealed there in the 
 light, how you might come to me, indeed, as the angel 
 of some better life and hope, offering me a forgiveness 
 as full as it was unmerited." 
 
 " It is not I who have to forgive you," I repeated. 
 
 " It is you, if any one," replied the fisherman, quickly. 
 " I tell you, you feel that girl Becky Weir's fault ten 
 times more deeply than she feels it for herself. You 
 should never have come to this place. It was deucedly 
 odd and entertaining, but it was a step in the wrong 
 direction. You put yourself in the place of these people
 
 266 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 and translate all their possible moods and tenses accord- 
 ing to your own. It's a mistake. That girl, Becky, 
 would stare in perfect bewilderment if she could knovr 
 of some of the thoughts and emotions you doubtless 
 attribute to her. She might even laugh at you for your 
 pains." 
 
 " I do not believe you," I said, not angrily nor 
 resentfully, as might have been earlier in our acquaint- 
 ance, but with a painful, slow positiveness. " Perhaps 
 I was wrong in assuming the place I did in Wallencamp, 
 but it was not in the way you think. I don't know I 
 can't see the way myself, clearly always, but I believe 
 that what you have said is utterly false ! " 
 
 " At least," continued the fisherman, in the old gay, 
 frivolous tone, which I heard now for the first time 
 during this conversation ; " I can make her tenfold and 
 abundant reparation ah, you don't know I say you 
 don't understand these people. It's a disagreeable sub- 
 ject ; let it go ! But I'm very rich, you know," with 
 an easy laugh, and the air of a man only conscious, at 
 last, of his good worldly fortune, and the exquisite fit of 
 his clothes. " Oh, I've got no end of money. After all, 
 that's the chief thing in this world. If a fellow's ordi- 
 narily clever and good-natured, with a good reputation in 
 town, what's a little row in the suburban districts ! It's 
 an awfully insignificant affair, anyway, it seems to me. 
 We may as well talk sense, and the plainer the better. 
 People don't employ lenses for shortsightedness in that 
 particular common sense, I mean. You walk without 
 seeing, Miss Hungerford, and you're bound to get 
 infernally cheated, in some shape. Why not me, I say, 
 as well as another ? "
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 267 
 
 Still, the fisherman's words roused no bitterness in 
 me. His hardened recklessness of speech served rather 
 to strengthen me in the part I had to play of the 
 unapproachably sublime. 
 
 " I cannot consider that question," I said, with my 
 hand on the door. 
 
 He swept my face with a keen glance that had lost 
 none of its derisive quality. 
 
 " So it's true, then ! " he said. " The ultimatum has 
 been reached, at last, in the possessor of a pretty face 
 and a broken fiddle ! and dreams for the restoration of 
 the race are to end in a broken-down hovel by the sea, 
 in darning the Cradlebow's socks, and dressing the 
 clams for dinner, while the bucolic George Olver and 
 the versatile Harvey, and all the rest of the awkward, 
 moon-gazing crew, take turns in sitting on the door-step, 
 and dilating on the weather ! Ravishing idyll but it 
 lacks substantiality. It lacks seriousness." 
 
 I heard that mocking laugh again without emotion, 
 except it might be for a faint, far-off echo in my breast 
 of the fisherman's own scorn. Above all, I was weary, 
 and willing to make my escape. 
 
 " We cannot help each other by standing here talk- 
 ing," I said, and added a " good bye." 
 
 It was the last time, probably, that I should see the 
 fisherman's face ; but he refused the valediction with a 
 toss of the head. 
 
 " Oh, no ! '' he said ; " it isn't time for my obsequies. 
 I shall return to town for a few days or weeks only ; 
 this detestable place has always thrown a spell over me, 
 I can't rid myself of it. Like the natives of Wallencamp^ 
 I always drift back to it again."
 
 2 68 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 It was growing dark. I found Madeline waiting for 
 me in the lane. Somewhat piqued at the persistency of 
 the little woman's ministrations, I informed her briefly, 
 that I had found the fisherman in the school-house, and 
 had been conversing with him there ; but she put her 
 hand in my arm with an air of unshaken confidence.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 269 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 GEORGE OLVER'S LOVE FOR BECKY. 
 
 'D like to see you alone a few minutes, teachet 
 if you please." 
 
 It was George Olver who spoke, in his 
 sturdy, resolute bass. The words hardly took on the 
 form of a suave request: they were uttered in too 
 earnest, grave, and intent a tone. 
 
 I had dismissed my school for the day. The roar of 
 the young ^ons just released from bondage had not 
 died awa> when George Olver entered the school-room, 
 closed the door behind him, and stood in a manly and 
 self-reliant attitude, his hat in his hand. 
 
 "No, ma'am," he said, in answer to some gesture of 
 mine ; " I'll be much obleeged if you'll set down in the 
 chair." 
 
 " There's times, teacher," he then went on, gravely 
 and steadily ; " when ordinary friends, like you and me, 
 meetin' each other in the road, or in a neighbor's house, 
 maybe, we say, ' How d'ye do ? ' or ' It's a pleasant day,' 
 or the like o' that, and all well and good. It's a fair 
 understanding and enough said 'tvvixt you and me : and 
 then ag'in, there's times when the wind blows up rough, 
 as ye might say, and oncommon dark, and some harm a 
 befallin' of us, when we git closter together and more a
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 dependin' on each other, and then them old words ain't 
 o' much account to us, but to speak out different what 
 need be without fear or shame." 
 
 "Yes," I said, much impressed by George Giver's 
 manner. He was held somewhat in awe among the 
 Wallencampers, and regarded generally as a " close- 
 mouthed " fellow. 
 
 " I hear," he resumed ; " that Dave Rollin has been 
 down this way ag'in. They say it was lucky for him I 
 wasn't to home that day ; maybe so. Ef he'd a turned 
 up suddenly in my path I can't say I might 'a' trod 
 on him. I never done anythin' like that for the fun 
 on't. I'd rather go round one any time than step on't, 
 but if I'd a come on him so, onexpected, I can't say for 
 what might 'a' been the consequences. Wall, he comes 
 down here, and he goes to her with mone\ ' Her, that 
 ain't used to all the devilish ways o' the vorld, nor as 
 fine clo's as some, but that's got a lady's h, \.rt in her, 
 for all that; and she told him I know just how she 
 said it, in that quiet way she's had along lately that 
 it was the last thing he could do to hurt her but he'd 
 made a mistake if he thought she could take that. 
 
 " So, then, as I've heered, he went to her father, a 
 rryin' to make it appear, as nigh as I can make out, 
 that he'd got suthin' in the shape of a conscience that 
 he wanted to whiten, over a little more to his own satis- 
 faction afore he went away. 
 
 " Wall, Bede and his daughter used to be called about 
 one piece for temper, though I don't reckon that tem- 
 per's lackin' allays 'cause it don't show. There's them 
 as jest keeps the steam down a workin' the whole 
 machinery patient and stiddy ; but Bede, he's allays a
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 2/1 
 
 histin' the cover, and lettin' on't out in one general bust, 
 and I reckon that was what he did when he was a 
 talkin' with the fisherman ; he histed up the cover and 
 let off a good deal of onnecessary steam, but he come 
 to the right point in the end ; that the fisherman had 
 made a mistake thar', too, and as near as I can 
 make out this Dave Rollin was kind o' took back and 
 disappointed. He hadn't calkilated that the folks down 
 here had any sech feelin's as his sort o' folks. 
 
 "Thar' ain't any use in talkin' about him. I feel 
 hard thar', I confess, but that can't help her none, novr. 
 What I want is to help her. I tell ye, teacher," the 
 strong voice trembled slightly "there's been times 
 when I've felt as though I've been a sinkin', as ye might 
 say, and a wantin' to call out for help ! help ! like any 
 weak, drowning fool, instead o' swimmin' above it strong, 
 and helpin' them as was weaker than me. 
 
 " No shame for me to say, teacher, I've allays had it 
 in my mind that Becky'd marry me. It grew up with 
 me. I never thought o' no other girl but her. Ye see 
 she'd always knowed me, and it was more like'a brother, 
 she said. She hadn't thought o' that. So, I says, I'll 
 bide my time patient, but I believed she'd turn to me. 
 
 " When Dave Rollin began to hang around there, I 
 didn't feel exactly kindly towards him, I don't pretend. 
 The folks, they tried to set me on. It 'ud a been 
 mighty easy to 'a' gone on ! I guess there ain't nobody 
 as knows us two 'ud deny I could handle four o' such 
 as him, but a man has got to say, fa'r play ! fa'r play I 
 and not put himself in other folks' light. Thinks I, if 
 his intentions are all squar' and honorable and I 
 hadn't no reason, then, to say they wa'n't and them.
 
 2/2 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 two take a fancy to each other, why, it ain't no more 
 than nateral ! 
 
 " She was handsome enough for a queen, and he had 
 different manners from us fellows down here, and pur- 
 tier ways o' talkin' and lookin' at a girl, as though if she 
 didn't have him, it was goin' to knock 'im straight, and 
 she'd lived with such different folks, it made it vary 
 interestin' ; that was nateral. Thinks I, a man in my 
 place had ought to have sense enough to back out 
 quiet. 
 
 " You know what he done, teacher. He took the best, 
 and when he got tired on't, he threw it away," the 
 brawny hand at George Giver's side was clinched so as 
 to appear almost colorless, yet there was little discom- 
 posure in his voice " but cursin' him ain't a goin' to 
 help us now. When a thing that's allays been precious 
 to us has once fell, we can't never make it quite like it 
 was afore, but we can keep care on't patient, a waitin* 
 God Almighty's time to make it whole. I know what 
 folks say. I know, but I don't keer. She ain't no less 
 precious to me, -now, than she was afore, only it's more 
 for her, now, maybe, and less for myself. And she sees, 
 now. She does keer for me, now. Ay, I know what 
 they'll say, but they don't know that girl as well as I do, 
 teacher. They ain't nothin' would 'a' wrung them words 
 from her ef they hadn't 'a' be'n true ; no, not ef it had 
 been savin' her life to say 'em. She does keer, now, 
 but she won't n^ver take me now, she says, because it 
 'ud be wrongin' me ; /nd I might 'a' knowed what she'd 
 : a' said, what it was nateral and noble for her to say. 
 
 " But," continued George Olver, with a flash of mag- 
 nificent fire in his eyes, and thrusting his arn> -aiif
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 273 
 
 straight ; " what's right atween me and my God needn't 
 be afeard o' no man's face ! I want to take that girl 
 and keer for her, and keep her from meddlin' tongues. 
 Let 'em say what they choose to me ; they must be 
 keerful what they say afore her, that's all. 
 
 " I've waited a good while. I could bide my time, 
 but not now, when she's heart broke and sufferin', and 
 nobody ter put out a hand to help her. There's be'n a 
 look on her face, lately, that I don't like to see. It's 
 afore my eyes all the time, and it werries me night and 
 day as though she didn't hold herself o' no account, 
 and might make away wi' herself. 
 
 " Teacher, you've got a woman's heart, and you can 
 save that other woman ! It's a task that they needn't 
 nobody be ashamed on, for the Lord Jesus himself set the 
 example. I guess she thinks you've turned agin her, 
 too, but I knew that couldn't be, for no friend 'ud leave 
 another when they was perishin', not even if they was 
 more to fault than she was ; and she was apt to mind 
 ye more than any one. I thought if you'd go in and 
 speak to her as a woman could, and tell her she'd got 
 a right to hope, and tell her her friends would not 
 forsake her, least of all would it be likely God would 
 forsake her, and tell her " 
 
 George Olver seemed both to be looking at me and 
 beyond me with his beautiful, brave eyes ; " Tell her 
 thar's somebody that don't find any cause to be sorry 
 for havin' loved her, but knows how she's been werrited, 
 and suffers along with her, and 'ud be more glad and 
 content than of anythin' else in his heart this minute, to 
 protect her and keer for her as it's right yes, tell her 
 as it's right that she should let him do ; and if she asks
 
 274 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 from whom that comes " George Olver smiled brightly, 
 with that far-seeing look still in his eyes " why, it's no 
 secret from whom it comes. Will you go, teacher ? " 
 
 " Yes," said I, with a vague sense of having caught a 
 glimpse of a hitherto unknown world ; " I will go." 
 
 George Olver came forward, gave my hand a firm 
 grasp, and then turned resolutely and walked out. 
 
 Left to myself and my own thoughts, I dreaded more 
 and more the concession there would seem to be in my 
 seeking Rebecca now, for the poor girl could hardly be 
 expected, I thought, to appreciate the magnanimity of 
 such an act. 
 
 I deferred going to see her until evening, and even 
 thought of writing a letter instead of going at all, signi- 
 fying my willingness to take her back into my favor, in 
 a limited sort of way, and reinforcing her with a share 
 of that counsel and advice which she must have missed 
 so sadly of late ; but I was conscious of the fact that I 
 should not thus be keeping my promise to George 
 Olver. 
 
 After supper, the singers came in and wailed some 
 peculiarly touching songs about rescuing the fallen and 
 the erring. As Grandma Keeler was preparing to go 
 on an errand of mercy down the lane, I joined her, and 
 stopped at Bede Weir's door. 
 
 Aunt Patty : Rebecca's mother, appeared- in answer to 
 my knock. Her glances had fallen rather reproachfully 
 on me, of late. Seeing me now, she cast down her eyes, 
 a steely expression gathering about her mouth. 
 
 "You've come too late, teacher," said she, her voice 
 breaking suddenly into a sob as she lifted her apron to 
 her eyes.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 2/3 
 
 In that instant it flashed through my mind, the fear 
 George Olver had expressed lest Rebecca should make 
 away with herself. I fancied that I turned terribly pale. 
 
 " Come in, teacher ! " Aunt Patty exclaimed, with a 
 quick motion of her hand, and she continued rapidly : 
 
 "Becky went away this afternoon. She's gone to 
 Taunton. She didn't tell nobody but me. If you'd 'a* 
 come sooner you might 'a' kep' her, teacher. She's 
 gone to Jane Meredith's that works thar, in the shops 
 and Beck used to know her. She hires a room, and 
 Beck she's saved a little money cranberryin'. She says 
 she's a goin' to stay thar' as long as it holds out, and 
 ' maybe,' she says, * I can git work ; ' she says thar' ain't 
 nobody here cares for her but me. ' And it's only a 
 trouble to you, mother,' she says ; * and maybe, I shan't 
 never come back again.' If you could 'a' seen how she 
 looked. Oh, my God ! " As the poor woman held her 
 hands to her face, I saw the tears springing out between 
 her fingers. " There's nobody knows how I feel this 
 night! She wa'n't a bad girl, my Becky wa'n't. She 
 was deceived, but it'll make her bad, everybody 
 turnin' agin her so and that Jane Meredith, she wa 
 sech a wild girl ! Oh, I'm afeard ! I'm afeard ! " 
 
 " But we'll have Becky back again, Mrs. Weir," I 
 said, intensely relieved, even at this state of things; 
 " and, more than that, we shall see her very happy yet. 
 I will write to her, myself, to-night." 
 
 " I don't know," Aunt Patty shook her head sadly 
 " she might think I'd got you to do it. I seen she took 
 it to heart, you're turnin' agin her so, and I didn't be- 
 lieve you'd 'a' done it if you'd known all. I wanted to 
 go up and see yer, for I knew you'd soften, but no, she
 
 276 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 wouldn't let me. She said she'd never forgive me ef I 
 did. No ; she'd think I'd been a puttin' ye up to it" 
 Aunt Patty dried her tears, helplessly. 
 
 " You ought to have come to me ! " I exclaimed with 
 grave emphasis ; "whether she wanted you to or not ! " 
 
 " Perhaps I had, teacher," said Aunt Patty, meekly ; 
 " but you couldn't 'a' gone agin her ef you'd been in my 
 place. She wasn't vexed, teacher, but she was awful 
 set, and she looked so wore out! I couldn't go agin 
 her." 
 
 " All the more reason," I continued, fortifying myself 
 with new confidence ; " why you should have been firm 
 with her. She is not fit to go off by herself in that way. 
 She's a child ! a child ! She needs some one to tell her 
 what to do." 
 
 " I know that ; that's what worries me ! " cried Aunt 
 Patty, bursting into tears ; " but what could I do, 
 teacher ? what could I do ? " 
 
 " Well, never mind," I said, assuming with readiness 
 the attitude of the consoler ; " we will have Becky home 
 again in a very short time. I will write this evening 
 and if she does not come, why, we shall have to go after 
 her, that's all ! " 
 
 This last I was able to utter almost gayly, looking into 
 Aunt Patty's face. 
 
 The woman's poor, worn hand placed in mine, the 
 look of confidence upturned to me in her tearful eyes, 
 her readiness to forgive, to forget any resentment which 
 she might have cherished towards me, all touched me 
 deeply and strengthened me in a sincere determination 
 to win Rebecca back. 
 
 " She made me promise I wouldn't let George Olver
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 277 
 
 know where she was, teacher," said Aunt Patty, breath- 
 lessly, as I was going out of the door. " She had her 
 reasons ; we'd ought to respect 'em some. I wouldn't 
 be deceiving her entirely." 
 
 On my way homeward, I reflected how altogether bur- 
 densome it was to one-half of humanity that the other 
 half was not better calculated to take care of itself, and 
 resolved that my letter to Rebecca should be at once 
 dignified, imperative, and kind.
 
 2/8 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 TEACHER HAS THE FEVER. DEATH OF LITTLE BESSIE. 
 
 HERE were oppressive days in Wallencamp, 
 when no fresh winds were borne to us from the 
 ocean. The sun shone hot on the stunted 
 cedars. The tides crept in lazily. All one weary after- 
 noon, in the hum and stir of the dusty school-room, little 
 Bessie Sartell Captain Sartell's youngest, and his 
 darling sat stringing lilac blossoms together in a chain. 
 She was such a cunning edition of the big Captain. She 
 had the same strong Saxon physique in miniature, the 
 same clear pink and white complexion, eyes hardly more 
 limpidly blue than his, and hair that was sunniest flax, 
 like the ends of the Captain's beard. And how patient 
 the chubby little fingers were at their task. What small, 
 charmingly despairing sighs escaped the child when 
 some link fell out in the chain of purple flowers ! I was 
 struck with her air of weary, patient endeavor so 
 important it seemed so important that the chain 
 should be finished before school was out And, at last, 
 little Bessie lifted it to wear upon her neck, and it broke 
 and fell in pieces on the floor. 
 
 Then there was a look of gentle dismay in the blue 
 eyes, a tear or two, and Bessie folded her arms on the 
 desk, her head sank slowly down on them, and she fell 
 asleep.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 279 
 
 She was still sleeping when I dismissed the school. 
 The sound of the others going out did not wake her ; 
 the Phenomenon, disappearing through the door, pointed 
 a finger at her, his face full of scornful merriment so 
 incredible was it to him that any one should sleep when 
 school was out. 
 
 I went down to Bessie and woke her gently. She 
 looked at me, at first, with startled, feverish eyes, as 
 though she did not know me, and screamed in pain or 
 terror. I noticed then that the color of her cheeks was 
 unnaturally bright. I put my hand on her pulse. It 
 was throbbing violently. I was thoroughly frightened. 
 
 " Come, Bess," I said, as winninglyand soothingly as 
 I could ; " come home with teacher, now. Teacher wiV 
 lead you, all the way." 
 
 For answer, the child's head fell heavily on one side. 
 I tried to take her in my arms, but she was very heavy. 
 I found one of the small boys lingering outside the 
 school-house and sent him for Bessie's father. 
 
 I shall never forget the look with which Captain Sar- 
 tell lifted his baby in his arms. He had seven other 
 children ; he was a poor man, a Wallencamper, but one 
 would have thought him a king, and that the only hope 
 of his line lay treasured in the mass of flaxen curls 
 pressed against his shoulder, as he carried her home. 
 
 The 'next morning, early, Captain Sartell appeared at 
 the Ark with a blanched face. Bess had been growing 
 worse, he said. They feared it was a fever. He was 
 going to West Wallen for a doctor. " She thinks," he 
 continued, with absolute white bewilderment on his fea- 
 tures, "that she's in school all the while, and it's a 
 gettin' late, and the teacher ain't there, and so she keeps
 
 280 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 a callin' for the teacher ; and I wouldn't ask ye to go 
 up, teacher, if you was anyways afeard, but it 'ud break 
 your heart to hear her." 
 
 For one of my years, I knew singularly little, either 
 of sickness or death, so I was the more readily suscep- 
 tible to the slight disrespect the Captain seemed to have 
 cast on my wisdom and fortitude. 
 
 " Certainly I will go and see her," I said ; " why 
 should I be afraid ? " 
 
 " I was only thinkin' it was fair to say," said the Cap- 
 tain ; " she was took so sudden and so violent like, it 
 might be might be suthin' suthin' kitchin', per- 
 haps. They was a case or two o' scarlet fever up to 
 Wallen, but she wasn't exposed no way that we know 
 on. She wasn't exposed." 
 
 The Captain, regarding me intently, repeated the 
 words, thrusting his neck out with a pitiful gulp, his 
 hand on the latch. Observing him, the expression of 
 my face changed ; he groaned as he went out, closing 
 the door silently. 
 
 My first impulse then was to pack my trunk and start 
 for home, but the wailing of Mrs. Philander, and of the 
 other women who had followed the Captain in, lament- 
 ing one with another in an agony of helpless fear, ap- 
 pealed to my courage and presence of mind, and had 
 a strangely sustaining and quieting effect upon me. I 
 suggested after a few moments' reflection, that very 
 likely the case was not so bad as Captain Sartell sup- 
 posed. I determined to have no school that day, and 
 advised the women what they should do, in case their 
 children had been already exposed to a contagious dis- 
 ease. Then a happy thought struck me. I went out
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS, 28 1 
 
 in the other part of the Ark to seek Grandma Keeler. I 
 wondered why we had not thought of her, before. 
 
 She entered the room where the women sat. Calm 
 and sunshine was Grandma Keeler calm and sunshine 
 breaking through a storm. 
 
 If it was scarlet fever, she knew just what to do. 
 She and pa had it years ago, and they'd lived through 
 it ; but she didn't believe that it was nothin' half so bad, 
 and " What if it is, you poor critturs, you," said Grandma, 
 in such a tone as she would have used to soothe a fright- 
 ened child ; " every time there's a squall must we go to 
 takin' on as though it was our doin's ? The Lord, He 
 makes the squalls, and he don't put it on us to manage 
 'em ; but up thar' in His fa'r weather, He looks down 
 on the storms that we know not whither, but are only 
 drivin' of us landward safe, and ' Keep ye still,' He says, 
 ' Jest keep ye still ! ' No need o' strainin' eyes, but fix 
 'em thar', on Him, I've seen a many times when no 
 words but them would do." 
 
 The tears stood in Grandma's eyes. Beautiful soul ! 
 Whatever storms she might have known in her life's 
 voyage, she only seemed to lie at anchor now, in a sure 
 haven ; and all the while, her heart was going out in the 
 tenderest sympathy to those still tossing on the seas and 
 striving to make perilous passages, even to those watch- 
 ing false harbor lights in the distance. She had had 
 an experience wide enough for all. She had found 
 where it was still. She longed to draw all others into 
 that stillness. 
 
 Soon Grandma was on her way to give help and con- 
 solation where it was most needed in Captain Sartell's 
 household. She did not come back until near mid- day.
 
 282 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Mrs. Philander's children were kept carefully out of 
 the room when she entered. 
 
 " The Lord is a goin' to take that little one to Him- 
 self, teacher," she said to me, very impressively. 
 
 Captain Sartell had not yet returned with the doctor. 
 Possibly he had been obliged to drive to the next town. 
 Poor Mrs. Sartell was nearly distracted. Bessie's fever 
 had gone to the brain. 
 
 " We couldn't quiet her, no way," Grandma continued ; ' 
 " and she's a growin' weak, but when them spells come 
 on, she's ravin', first about one thing and then another, 
 but mostly it's school, school. ' It's a gittin' so late in 
 school and the teacher not there ' and then she 
 screams and moans so ! Poor, sufferm' darlin' ! ye can't 
 ease her no way." 
 
 With a desperate determination not to yield myself to 
 my own thoughts, I informed Mrs. Philander that I was 
 going to live with Grandma a while, that I should not 
 go through that part of the Ark where she and the chil- 
 dren were, and she must keep the little door at the foot 
 of the stairway locked, and not let the children follow 
 me; and I sprinkled myself with camphor and went 
 back with Grandma to Captain Sartell's house. 
 
 Mrs. Sartell was alone in the room with Bess. I 
 expected that she would meet me with an almost re- 
 proachful look, but there was only sorrow in her face, a 
 sorrow that seemed intensified by the smile she lifted to 
 us as we entered. The air in the room was very pure 
 and sweet. The bed on which Bess lay was as white as 
 snow. But what a change a day had wrought in the 
 little face pressed against the pillow. 
 
 " Teacher's come," said Grandma Keeler, with soft, 
 pathetic cheer, bending over the child.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 283 
 
 * Would she care now ? " I thought. " Would she 
 know me ? " 
 
 Just once she opened her eyes wide, smiled, and threw 
 her arms towards me feebly. I would have taken her 
 then, I thought, if it had been my death. 
 
 They wrapped a shawl around her, and I took her in 
 my arms, rocked her gently and sang to her, very softly, 
 the songs she loved best. She moved a little restlessly, 
 and then lay very still with her head on my breast. 
 
 So I rocked and sang to Bess, and the two women 
 moved noiselessly about the room until Grandma Keeler 
 came and looked down very intently into the little one's 
 face. 
 
 " She's asleep," I murmured, placing a finger on my 
 lips. 
 
 "Yes, she's asleep," said Grandma, in a trembling 
 voice, solemnly. " Sweet, purty little one," she went on, 
 with tears running down her cheeks, and she turned to 
 the mother " Thank God, you ! " she exclaimed, with 
 sudden strength and firmness in her voice, that was yet 
 thrilled with emotion ; " from sorrowin' and from pain 
 forevermore, the Lord has took His lamb ! " 
 
 Ay, life's chain of dewy morning flowers was broken I 
 The baby fingers had dropped those purple fragments 
 without grief, now, or dismay only the peace of some 
 sweet unfolding mystery over the veiled blue eyes ! 
 
 Still, she seemed to me asleep only asleep. I felt 
 no shrinking from the dead child in my arms. Wheji 
 they took her away from me and laid her on the bed, I 
 looked at her tranquil face, and the mother's passionate 
 grief seemed out of place. Why should one wish to 
 wake another from such repose ? I could not compie-
 
 284 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 hend the mother's aching sense of loss. But later, 
 when we heard the sound of wheels and saw Captain 
 Sartell and the doctor driving very fast up the lane, I 
 went down the stairs and passed out before them. I 
 could not bear to watch the strong man's face when he 
 should find his baby dead. 
 
 Little Bess was buried under the lilac blossoms. The 
 fever which had so soon smitten her down was not 
 properly a contagious one. I went on with my school 
 again, missing the sweet face of the dead child more 
 and more each succeeding day. 
 
 Not one of the children with whom she had played 
 was taken sick, but it was scarcely two weeks after her 
 death that I was taken sick as she had been. In the 
 interval George Olver had come to me and I had writ- 
 ten to Rebecca, but Rebecca had not come back to Wai- 
 lencamp nor answered my letter. I was more anxious 
 and troubled about her than I dared confess to any one. 
 Then suddenly I ceased to care for any of those things. 
 Of my last afternoon in school I could recall very little 
 afterwards, except that the clock on the shelf back of 
 me seemed to be ticking in my brain, and the voices in 
 the room sounded indistinct. My own voice sounded 
 to me like that of some one else speaking from a long 
 way off. 
 
 And at evening, in the Ark, I put my little room in 
 perfect order, my head growing heavy with pain. I felt 
 that I must finish this task before I lay down, and there 
 was another intention to which I clung with a painful 
 pertinacity of mind. 
 
 I sat down at my table and wrote half a dozen or 
 more brief letters home. These were filled with irrele-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 285 
 
 vant anecdotes pertaining to my experience among the 
 Wallencampers, a few desultory descriptions of character 
 and scenery, with a philosophical digression or two. 
 
 To one not intimately acquainted with the epistolary 
 products of my pen, these letters would have undoubt- 
 edly suggested the workings of a crazed and feverish 
 brain, but they were not calculated to arouse any partic- 
 ular alarm in the minds of my friends at home, unless, 
 indeed, it was by reason of the unusual care and pains- 
 taking evinced in their chirography and the punctilious 
 manner in which they were dated. The first one I 
 dated for the evening on which I was writing. The 
 next for a time several days in advance of that, and so 
 on, performing this strange act with utter indifference 
 to the presumption of it. 
 
 When it was finished, I seemed to have forgotten 
 what next to do. Grandma Keeler told me afterwards, 
 that I went to the head of the stairs and called to her, 
 that she came up, and I told her very gravely that I was 
 going to be sick, but I knew I was not going to die. and 
 adjured her with a look in my eyes which she said, " I 
 couldn't go ag'inst, teacher, for it was more convincin* 
 than health," not to write to my friends of my sickness, 
 and instructed her how to send the letters which I had 
 sealed, stamped, directed, and methodically arranged 
 on the table, in their proper order to the post. 
 
 For the rest, all through the pain and impotence and 
 vague mental wanderings of the days that followed, I 
 had a restful, comforting consciousness that a kind, lov- 
 ing f?ce, like the lamp of my salvation, was hanging 
 ever over me always it was Grandma Keeler's face, 
 though it seemed to have grown strangely young and
 
 286 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 fair, and the eyes that followed me with such a loving, 
 tireless, wistful expression in them were like other eyes 
 that I had known, and the watcher's voice was clear 
 and musical, with a youthful repression in it. Still, 
 somehow, it was Grandma's face, her eyes, her voice 
 and when at last, I woke one morning very weak, but 
 able to recognize clearly all the familiar objects in the 
 room, it was Grandma Keeler indeed, who sat by my 
 bed, beaming gloriously upon me. 
 
 " Is it most school time, Grandma ? " I inquired, 
 feebly, slowly concentrating my gaze on her face. 
 
 " Oh, laws, no ! " said Grandma, with cheerful empha- 
 sis, and then continued talking in her quiet monotone. 
 I hardly heard what she said. I was painfully endeav- 
 oring to pick up the lost thread of my consciousness 
 where I had left it on that night when I put my room 
 in order and went so wearily to bed. At last I inquired, 
 still vaguely, " How long ? " 
 
 Grandma understood. She smiled reassuringly. 
 
 " Only a little while, teacher," she said. " You've 
 only been sick a little .while a few days, maybe," and 
 she immediately proffered me some broth which was a 
 triumph of the good soul's art, and seemed to partake 
 of her own comfortable and sustaining nature. I lay 
 back on the pillows, contented to be very still for a 
 little while. 
 
 When I next looked up and recognized that familiar 
 figure sitting by the bed, I said, " Has Becky come 
 back?" 
 
 " Yis, Becky's come back ! " said Grandma, in i tone 
 which seemed to imply, in the very best faith, that 
 during my illness the world had been running on ex-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 287 
 
 cellently well. " You take some more broth now, teach- 
 er, and keep r'al slow-minded and easy, and hev' a 
 good night's rest, and to-morrer I'll tell ye all about 
 it!" 
 
 But I persisted ; so Grandma continued gently : 
 " Wall, it wa'n't much to tell, only the doctor said ye 
 wasn't to be talked to much, nor worked up; but I 
 reckon a little pleasant news ain't a gonter hurt nobody. 
 Ye see, when you was took sick, George Olver, he got 
 a hold of where Becky was ; he had a mistrustin' of it, 
 somehow and he went and told her, and it brought 
 her, hearin' you was dangerous, and she calculated she 
 might be o' use to ye now, for some, they be sich friends ! " 
 said Grandma, making this observation with the most 
 guileless enthusiasm. " And Becky, she wa'n't much 
 brought up, and used to be as wild and harum-scarum as 
 any of 'em ; but I allus said that there was a good deal to 
 Becky, after all. Wall, George Olver, he recognized 
 where she was and he went down thar' and found her, 
 and they wa'n't anybody ventured to say a word, and 
 what need ? for everybody respec's George Olver, 
 knowin' he's uncommon ser'ous and high-minded ; and 
 the very same hour they came home, Becky, she come 
 up here, and she turned me right out of the room, as ye 
 might say. ' It's my place, Grandma,' says she, ' and 
 I'm better able than you. I understand. It's my place.' 
 And she wa'n't vary strong, but she wouldn't give up to 
 nobody, and only run home a little while between spells 
 to rest, and watched and tended ye as faithful as though 
 she was keepin' count of every breath ; and when the 
 fever turned a Monday night, and you fell off into a 
 kind of a nateral sleep, the doctor, he says to her, what
 
 2 88 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 it ain't a very common thing for a doctor to say : ' It's 
 you saved her life ! ' he says. ' She was vary sick * 
 And he shook his head the way they do. ' You've tend- 
 ed vary faithful,' he says ; and Becky, she hardly spoke, 
 but I seen when she looked up that her eyes was a 
 shinin', and that happy look that she's had somehow, 
 sence she came back I can't tell ye exactly, teacher, 
 but it's most like as ef somebody should have a bad 
 dream, and be wakin' up kinder surprised and thankful 
 but when the doctor said them words, I'll never for- 
 get how her eyes went a shinin', and she says to me, 
 * I'm goin' home now, and never you tell her, when she 
 wakes up, for she thought it was you watchin' with her 
 all the time, and kep' a callin " Grandma ! Grandma ! " 
 says she ; ' and don't you tell her ! don't you ; for it 
 would seem as though I was obligin' her, and if she for- 
 gives me and is friendly I don't want it to be for that.' 
 And I didn't say as I should or shouldn't tell," said 
 Grandma, smilingly unconscious of the two large tears 
 that were stealing down her cheeks ; " but I knowed 
 pretty well what I had on my mind ! " 
 
 Grandma ceased speaking, and began to busy herself 
 about the room, humming softly her favorite refrain : 
 The Light of the World is Jesus." 
 
 I lay very still, thinking 
 
 " Once I was blind but now I can see 1 " 
 
 That low, glad, tremulous murmur brought no peace to 
 my troubled heart. 
 
 When Grandma Keeler looked at me again, I fancied 
 she met a helpless, appealing, almost an aggrieved ex 
 pression in my eyes.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 289 
 
 " I want to see her," I said. " I want to see Becky, 
 <rf course." 
 
 " Yis, yis," said Grandma, " to-mofrer. You'd want 
 to talk, and you've had enough for one day. I'll tell her, 
 and she'll understand." 
 
 " But I want to see her now," I persisted. 
 
 " They's some folks just come in to inquire," con- 
 tinued Grandma, giving an easeful touch to the pillows. 
 " They's been a good many in to inquire. May be, 
 she's amongst 'em. I'll go down and see." 
 
 Soon I heard the old, girlish, familiar step on the 
 stairs. Rebecca hesitated, standing an instant on the 
 threshold. In spite of the new and loftier soul looking 
 out of her eyes, in spite of the new and womanly dignity 
 which she bore so reposefully, she read my face with 
 that quick, intuitive glance I had learned to know so 
 well. 
 
 Then coming towards me, she put her arm gently 
 around my neck, kissed me, understanding all, hushing 
 all, forgiving all ; and smiling a tender prohibition in 
 her eyes, put her finger on my lips. 
 
 Sobbing inwardly, I accepted this divine retaliation 
 in silence, and rested a while in that loving, warm 
 embrace.
 
 290 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 LUTE CRADLEBOW GIVES THE TEACHER A NEW CHAIR. 
 
 NE morning, early in my convalescence, I was 
 startled by a mighty rumbling and scraping 
 sound on the narrow stairway, as of some 
 unwieldy object pushed steadily upward. The summit 
 reached, I heard the retreat of manly feet, and this 
 leviathan presented itself with Grandma Keeler as an 
 animating force, breathless and smiling, in the rear. 
 
 " He didn't have time to paint it, teacher," she began 
 joyfully ; " but it'll be jest as comf'table to set in. He's 
 been explainin' of it to me Lute has ye see, it's a 
 cheer. He made it for ye, himself. And all you've 
 got to do is to turn this 'ere crank, here " Grandma's 
 countenance was radiant with wonder and approval 
 " and up it'll go so as high as ye want it ! and this 
 'ere can be shoved in and out for ye to put yer feet on, 
 and this 'ere back can be let anyways ye want it. He 
 seen a picture o' one in a paper, once, and he went and 
 made this by his own eye, and all the hinges and cranks, 
 and everythin' as slick as a pin ! He didn't say anythin'," 
 Grandma continued, in a slightly lowered, insinuating 
 tone of voice ; " about likin' to come up and see ye, 
 when ye was able to set up, and you know, teacher, as 
 I don't believe in meddlin* in young folks' affairs ; but
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 29! 
 
 it appeared to me, havin' had so much experience with 
 the men folks as I have, that may be he was kind o* 
 hangin' around waitin' for an invitation for ye see, 
 they're goin' to sail now in a vary few days." 
 
 So, a little later, I sat up in my new chair and received 
 the Cradlebow, in a loose, trailing gown of rich material, 
 daintily embroidered. In the midst of my narrow and 
 humble surroundings I had an exiled-princess sort of 
 consciousness, and recognized with a new pleasure the 
 Cradlebow's lordly face and bearing, as he stooped on 
 entering the little red door. 
 
 Living in a reverie, still, a fancy, a day-dream, 
 strangely vivid and life-like, but not real, not real, I 
 was so far softened by my illness that, with the delicious 
 sense of returning health and strength, I was content, 
 for a time, to live simply in the present, to dismiss the 
 stern warden, Duty, from my thoughts, and that ever- 
 grave necessity for maintaining a mental and moral 
 superiority which had so oppressed me. 
 
 " It had been weary work living on the heights, and 
 what had it all amounted to ? " I asked myself, with a 
 recklessness too tranquil, now, to be converted into 
 bitterness. " It was so much easier and safer, lower 
 down." But while I doubted and almost gave up the 
 struggle, the Cradlebow aspired ever to greater faith 
 and hope in life, and enthusiasm for life's work. 
 
 And with all this, it was evident that there had been 
 with him an inward struggle and preparation, a silent 
 conquering of self. With a vain discontent for my own 
 failure, I marvelled at the glory which had crowned his 
 humble efforts. " This, too," I thought, " is a sort of 
 heroism : " and my spirit of condescension towards the 
 vouth took on something new, like reverence.
 
 292 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 It was even with pride that I reflected, " Here is a 
 strength I may rely upon by and by ; " and I was proud 
 that my lover's kiss was so pure upon my lips, his breath 
 on my cheek ah, foolish sleeping heart ! It was well 
 that the dream should grow passionate, even intense, 
 for the awakening was near. 
 
 In the bewildered and feverish condition of mind in 
 which I had last left the Wallencamp school-house, I 
 had been consciously impressed, at least, with the idea 
 that I should probably never enter those familiar walls 
 again, never again as the teacher. And now, I had no 
 intention of resuming my labors there. 
 
 But I did not wish to flaunt my boasted independence 
 before the family circle at Newtown, until my eyes should 
 have assumed a little more nearly their usual propor- 
 tions, and my manner of going up and down stairs 
 should have become less strikingly feeble. 
 
 I decided to remain in Wallencamp a few days to 
 recuperate. I was not impatient nor especially chagrined 
 on account of this necessity. Secretly willing to await 
 the departure of the Cradlebow's ship, to have a brief 
 season of rest from all care and responsibility among 
 the scenes of my past labors a little breathing space 
 in which to study these people quietly, to exchange 
 unhurried kindly words with them before I should go 
 away from them forever I was glad to have it so. 
 
 Such welcomings and congratulations as I received 
 from the Wallencampers when I was able to get down 
 the stairs once more ! I felt very happy, almost humble, 
 sitting where the sunlight poured in at the open door 
 of Grandma's living-room. 
 
 That picture is still before my mind : the bare, shining
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 293 
 
 floor, the unpainted table, the chimney-shelf, and a 
 clock, the successful working of whose machinery 
 demanded a crazily tilted attitude ; a Bible on the 
 shelf, too, and Grandma's spectacles lying askew. 
 Then, a commodious lounge of exceedingly simple 
 construction set up straight against the wall and extend- 
 ing the whole length of the room. The original frame- 
 work of this lounge, by the way, disclosed itself in many 
 bold and striking instances, under a unique method of 
 upholstery. It was stuffed sectionally. There was the 
 "old paper corner," within whose rustling precincts 
 Lovell was reputed once to have endured agonies, 
 during a religious meeting held at the Ark. There was 
 the "sawdust" section, substantial, but by no means 
 billowy to the touch ; and the " dried yarb " section, of 
 a nature similar to the sawdust ; and, omitting the " old 
 clothes section" with its insidious buttons, and the 
 " corn-cob " section, and the " cotton-wood bark " 
 section, there was the " feather corner," at the other 
 jnd, generally conceded to be luxurious, but silently 
 avoided, as having given, on more than one occasion, a 
 sharp suggestion of quills. Over the whole, depressions 
 and excrescences, was stretched a faded chintz cover. 
 But woe to the luckless wight who thought to find repose 
 by throwing himself carelessly down on this hitherto 
 untried structure ! It was reserved only to the knowing 
 few to find a comfortable seat on the lounge. 
 
 The cat, without having subjected herself to those 
 trials which some of us endured, had discovered, with 
 true feline instinct, wherein the deepest rest lay, and had 
 established herself on a suspended bridge of chintz be- 
 tween two overhanging systems.
 
 294 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 There were a few chairs in the room besides, but the 
 doorsteps were wide. Grandpa sat always in the south 
 door, Grandma on the steps looking towards the lane, 
 and it was at this latter inviting spot that the neighbors, 
 the " passers by," paused most frequently and disposed 
 themselves, with a grateful air. 
 
 I listened to their talk, while the birds struggled to 
 make noisy interruptions and cast their fleeting shadows 
 in the sunlight on the floor, and the peach-blossoms 
 outside were falling noiselessly. 
 
 Grandma Keeler had been telling me in a happy, 
 droning voice, though gravely enough, of the " awak- 
 enin' " that was going on in Wallencamp how " a good 
 many o' the young folks was impressed," and " Cap'n Sar- 
 tell had been seekin', ever since little Bessie died, and 
 some that had seemed to be forgitful and backslidin' had 
 come forward and told where they stood, until it seemed 
 as though the Lord was a sendin' a blessin' down, jest as 
 soft and beautiful as them blossoms ; " and Grandma's 
 eyes wandered towards the peach-tree with a tearful 
 fervor in them. 
 
 Aunt Patty was a temporary occupant of the steps. 
 Her anxious, care-lined face was turned indoors, away 
 from the light and the falling blossoms. There was an 
 anxious, restless ring in her voice, too. 
 
 " I'm glad to hev such a time, I'm sure," said she. 
 " We need it bad enough, any time, Lord knows ! but 
 it seems a queer season o' the year for't. When we've 
 had 'em before it's generally been along in the winter. 
 I never heered of an awakenin' before right in the midst 
 o' tater-buggin'." 
 
 Aunt Patty was not intentionally irreverent. Life,
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 295 
 
 with her, had been so narrow and hard pressed, always 
 a painful reckoning of times and seasons. 
 
 The allusion to " tater-buggin' " gave Grandpa an 
 opportunity of a sort of which he had not been slow to 
 avail himself lately to engage in a little old-time, 
 secular conversation. His voice, however, as it sounded 
 from the south doorway, was impressive enough for any 
 subject. 
 
 " Grists on 'em, this year ! " he said. 
 
 " Heaps ! " Aunt Patty responded, readily. " I don't 
 see how ever the children could be speered to go to 
 school now, anyway. Randal had all eight o' hisn out 
 yesterday, with a four-quart pail apiece, and him and 
 Lucindy pickin' into the half-bushel besides ; and Rod- 
 ney told Bede, for the livin' truth, he'd seen a lantern 
 movin' around last night right in the dead o' night, and 
 he looked out and it was the Dean and Abbie Ann out 
 tater-buggin', and everybody knows they wasn't out in 
 the daytime, it was so dreadful hot. I'm sure we never 
 had such queer weather afore. But them bugs are the 
 hardest critturs to kill. It's almost impossible to dis- 
 pose on 'em ; and it does seem enough, what with 
 ploughin' and plantin' and harrowin' and hoein' to git a 
 few potatoes, and like enough, wet weather to rot 'em, 
 without havin' to fight over 'em, for the last chance, 
 with a whole army of varmint. I'm sure this 'ere way 
 o' gittin' a livin', as old Grandther Skewer used to say, 
 ' It costs more than it's wuth.' " 
 
 Led by the screams of the little Keelers in Madeline's 
 apartment, Grandma had left the room for a moment, 
 and Grandpa cleared his throat and began, hopefully : 
 
 "Talkin' about tater-bugs," he said, and he glanced
 
 2g6 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 at me with a preliminary gleam in his eye ; " Bachelder 
 Lot was tellin' me the other mornin, he said he was 
 eddicatin' a couple on 'em. He said thar' wa'n't no 
 other way to get rid on 'em, but to appeal to their mc-ral 
 natur', and he said when he'd got 'em eddicated up to 
 the highest p'int o' morality, he was a goin' to send 'em 
 out as missionaries ter convart the rest. Bachelder 
 said he'd got 'em fur enough along, now, so't they'd 
 pass examination along o' average folks that wa'n't 
 admitted church members " 
 
 " Bijonah Keeler ! " 
 
 Grandma, unexpectedly returning, had caught the 
 last word only of. Grandpa's discourse, but taking this 
 in connection with the bright and mirthful expression 
 of his countenance, she judged that his sentiments had 
 been of an unusually reprehensible nature. 
 
 " Wall, wall, ma," said Grandpa, with an evident 
 notion of continuing his narration ; " what now, ma ? " 
 
 " I hope, pa," said Grandma, giving one the impres- 
 sion that she felt she couldn't put the case too strongly ; 
 " that you are as innocent o' what you've be'n a sayin' 
 as the babe unborn, and to your credit, pa, I believe 
 you be ! " 
 
 " Wall, wall, ma," said Grandpa, now mentally lost 
 and bewildered ; " I guess I know what I'm talkin' 
 about ! " 
 
 " And H you do, pa," said Grandma, with a solemnity 
 that was unutterably conclusive ; "you know more than 
 I do ! " 
 
 Then, while the women talked, Grandpa, sitting alone 
 in the south door, sighed and whittled, and abstractedly 
 scanned the horizon. Once, he made a singularly bold
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 attempt to entice Aunt Patty again into the channels of 
 profane conversation, by an introductory speculation as 
 to the prospect of the bean crop ; but Grandma Keeler 
 nipped this reckless and irreverent adventure in the bud, 
 by replying in a calm, vast tone : 
 
 " Pa, it r'aly seems to me that for a vain creetur in a 
 fleetin' world, and a perfessor besides, there'd ought to 
 be more things to talk about than beans ! " 
 
 Grandpa Keeler sighed still more deeply, gazed wist- 
 fully towards the barn, as though he would fain have 
 shuffled out in that direction ; but the weather being so 
 warm, he refrained. He glanced at me with a feeble, 
 helpless smile, his head fell backward, his eyes gradually 
 closed, and, in spite of the iniquities which covered his 
 ancient head, he fell into a slumber that had all the sen* 
 blance of childlike and unblemished innocence.
 
 2Q8 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 DEATH OF THE CRADLEBOW. 
 
 HILE Grandpa Keeler dozed peacefully, Emily 
 Gaskell, also " passin' by," joined the group of 
 women on the doorsteps of the Ark. 
 
 Emily, by the way, was regarded as a hopeful subject 
 of the "awakenin'." She had been to see a doctor in 
 Farmouth, who told her she could not live through 
 another winter " with that cough on her." She sat very 
 still in the meetings, it was said, and seemed " tetched 
 and wonderful," whereas she had been wont formerly, 
 on occasions of this solemn nature, to evince many signs 
 of restlessness, and even to engage in droll and sly diver- 
 sions for the greater delectation of the "unconsarned." 
 
 Emily herself was particularly unreserved on the 
 subject of her spiritual condition. Her tone had lost 
 none of its former bright vivacity, though I thought I 
 saw frequently now, while she was talking, a softer 
 shadow steal over the restless, consuming fire in her 
 blue eyes. 
 
 " I know what some on 'em say," said she ; " I know 
 what I might 'a' said, jest as like as not, if it had been 
 somebody else in my place. Oh, she's afraid she ain't 
 a goin' to git well, and so she's a seekin' religion. She's 
 scart into it !
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 299 
 
 " Wall, if folks that know me are a mind to say that, 
 they may ; though if it comes to bein' scart into religion 
 by what the doctors said, I should 'a' jined the church 
 twenty times over ! 
 
 " It ain't because I'm afraid o' what'll happen to me 
 after I'm all dead and peaceable. It's because I want a 
 little more comfort while I'm a livin'. Seems to me 
 there's more comfort needed for the livin'. 
 
 " And ever since my Brother 'Lihu died, seems as 
 though them last words o' hisn have been a ringin' in 
 my ears. ' I know somebody that'll watch. Who ? 
 Jesus will ! Jesus will ! ' over and over again. And 
 when I get to worryin' about things, and can't see no 
 way through, or whoever's a goin' to straighten em' out, 
 it keeps ago in', 'Who, then? Jesus will ! Jesus will!' 
 over and over. And 'Lihu wasn't a professor, neither ; 
 and maybe he hadn't no right to take the comfort out o' 
 them words that he did ; and maybe I hain't no right, and 
 it's only like a string o' music that'll keep a runnin' in a 
 body's head sometimes and they not thinkin' nor 
 meanin' any thin'. 
 
 " I don't see any further into it than I did afore. I 
 don't know as I'm what you'd call any more believin', 
 out when I've laid till after midnight with my eyes as 
 wide open as daylight, and no shut to 'em, thinkin' and 
 worryin' and coughin', I've seen it ag'in, jest the way he 
 rolled and tossed that night, and then them words come 
 to him, and he smiled and went to sleep peacefuller nor 
 any child ; and so I've said 'em, and faith or no faith, 
 believin' or no believin', they've set me a cryin', time 
 and ag'in, and they've put me to sleep ! thar', they've put 
 me to sleep ! "
 
 300 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " And who else could they 'a' be'n meant for but him 
 and you ? " cried Grandma, in a gush of sympathy ; " him 
 and you, and anybody else as you seen needed them 
 words and could give 'em to 'em to quiet 'em ; for, dear 
 woman 1 there ain't none on us that see into it, but jest 
 to say it over. Dear woman ! we don't know no more. 
 It's what's a restin' all on us. It's what's a restin' all 
 on us ! " 
 
 I looked up and saw tears in Madeline's eyes. I had 
 not heard Madeline spoken of as among the number of 
 the impressed. There were tears in my own eyes, I 
 knew ; there had grown to be such a pathos in those 
 women's voices. 
 
 A little later, Emily lapsed into a strain of sprightly 
 gossip. 
 
 " And who do you think's kitin' around in this region 
 ag'in ? " she began. " Somebody you'd expect least of 
 all, I reckon ; wall, it's Dave Rollin," and she nodded 
 her head quickly and expressively at the others. 
 
 " I don't mean," she continued ; " that he's been in 
 Wallencamp, but Levi was down from Wallen this 
 mornin', and he said they stopped last night in Wallen 
 Harbor him and some other fellers, mighty stylish 
 lookin', but he said it was Dave Rollin's yacht, as fine 
 and fancy-rigged as ever he see, and there was some that 
 looked like common sailors, and they all come ashore, 
 and the common ones was the quietest. But he reckoned 
 the fisherman was off on ' a time,' and stopped there 
 jest for fun, and to show off, maybe 
 
 " Wall, Levi told me that, and to-day, 'long about the 
 middle o' the forenoon, my man come up to the house 
 he's down to shore, you know, along o' Cap'n Sartell
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 301 
 
 and George Olver and Lute Cradlebow and all the rest, 
 down there a mendin' up the old schooner, 'cause Cap'n 
 wanted Lute to see to it afore he went away. My man 
 come up for a wrench, and ' Who do you think's a scootin' 
 around down on the Bay ? ' says he. ' Wall, it's Dave. 
 Rollin,' says he ; ' in the purtiest little craft, that runs 
 jest like a picter,' and he said they couldn't see but two 
 men aboard of her then ; he guessed they wan't many. 
 It was jest like Dave Rollin to take a run from Wallen 
 down this way to show what he could do alone, for he 
 was always braggin' about bein' so stiddy on his sea- 
 legs, and how't he understood this shore better'n any o' 
 the old uns. 
 
 " My man said they didn't know who 'twas out there, 
 at first, for it ain't the kind o' vessel often seen, and it 
 skimmed along on the edge o' the water, Sim said, like 
 a bird, in and out amongst the rocks, so't anybody'd a 
 thought, not knowin' who they was and them, may be, 
 not knowin' the shore that they was drunk or gone 
 crazy ; and Sim said they hollered to 'em to look out for 
 the rocks, and they heered a kind of a laugh on the water, 
 and somebody shouted back : 
 
 " ' Stow your gab, land lubbers ! ' and they knew from 
 the voice it was Dave Rollin. 
 
 " He was probably meanin' to put in there, and might 
 'a' come ashore may be, he was wild enough but he 
 seen our men and that kind o' hendered him ; he didn't 
 want to turn round and put right back neither, lookin' 
 as though he was scared, so he kep' on, and Sim said 
 they watched 'em clean out o' sight ; 'but,' says he, ' I 
 never seen a man turn whiter'n George Olver did for 
 a minute, and then he onclinched his fist and went to
 
 303 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 work ag'in, harder than ever, for you can allays depend 
 on 'im, somehow George Olver but he's a dreadful 
 close-mouthed fellow ! " 
 
 During the recital of this narrative, recalling so much 
 to my mind, I experienced more than anything else a 
 feeling of annoyance, almost of resentment, that the fish- 
 erman should appear, however remotely, to disturb the 
 serenity of these last few days in which I had to live out 
 my Wallencamp idyl. 
 
 For the others the story seemed to have created a 
 momentary excitement, but they regarded it, on the 
 whole, as of little consequence. 
 
 Aunt Patty had passed on to the doorway of another 
 neighbor, and George Giver's relations with Rebecca 
 soon constituted the theme of a more general and lively 
 discourse, in which the remarks concerning Rebecca 
 were mostly kind and considerate, and the praise of 
 George Giver's conduct enthusiastic ; and, at the close 
 of which, I remember, Grandma said that "the higher 
 minded folks gits to be, the pitifuller they be a'most 
 always ! " 
 
 The fact of the fisherman's transient appearance on 
 the Bay was not again alluded to, nor do I think the 
 mind of any one present reverted to it, when Grandpa 
 Keeler, looking up with that utterly dazed and bewil- 
 dered air which betokened a decisive awakening on his 
 part, cast his eye along the horizon, and observed 
 gravely, 
 
 " Storm a brewin', ma." 
 
 " You've been asleep, pa," said Grandma, in sweetly 
 mollifying tones; and Emily Gaskell, almost involun- 
 tarily, glanced up at me with a mischievous, anticipative 
 wink.
 
 CRADI.EBOW AND GEORGE OLIVER. 
 
 Scene from the Play.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 303 
 
 * Asleep, ma," said Grandpa Keeler ; " no, I hain't 
 been asleep, neither ! And what if I had, ma ? That 
 don't hender a storm's brewin', does it ? " 
 
 "We've be'n seein' them little wind clouds passin' 
 afore the sun for half an hour past," explained Grandma 
 Keeler, composedly. 
 
 But Grandpa scanned the sky with a dark, keen 
 glance the air of an old voyager on stormy and literal 
 seas, and he shook his head, sagely. 
 
 ' Wall, wall, ma," he said, " it don't make no differ- 
 ence whether it's a wind-storm or a rain-storm that I 
 know on, but a tempest it's brewin', sartin sure. I 
 remember once, we'd had a spell o' weather jest like this, 
 and it begun to gether up in the same way. It was in 
 the same latitude, teacher, same latitude. I was off ; 
 cruisin' with Bob Henchy whew ! that ar' was a singin' 
 gale ! I remember it as well as yesterday. I was off 
 with Bob " 
 
 " Are you sure it was Bob ye was off with, pa," inter- 
 rupted Grandma. " I could a'most write a book, pa, 
 while you was tellin' a story." 
 
 " Wall, wall, ma ! Write a book, if ye want to ! " ex- 
 claimed Grandpa, with sweeping force. " I'm sure no- 
 body wants to hender yer writing a book if ye want to, 
 ma!" 
 
 Grandma Keeler heeded not those derisive words. 
 Her mind was bent on pursuits of a far loftier and more 
 engrossing nature. In respect to the weather except 
 on Sabbath mornings, when it was impossible to credit 
 Grandpa with perfect fairness and impartiality of judg- 
 ment Grandma, it must be said, had real faith in the 
 old sea-captain's prognostications.
 
 304 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " It does look like a shower, and a mighty sudden 
 one," said Emily. She thrust her knitting-work in hei 
 pocket, donned her sun-bonnet, and departed with other 
 chance occupants of the doorsteps. And Grandma, too, 
 admitted the prospect of foul weather by throwing a 
 handkerchief over her head and going out to fetch the 
 milk-pans. 
 
 Since early spring Grandma Keeler had put her milk- 
 pans to dry in the sun on a bench half-way up the 
 "Pastur-Hill." Why she should choose to place them 
 at such a seemingly capricious and unnecessary distance 
 from the house, for it was really no inconsiderable jour- 
 ney for Grandma, taking into account her peculiar style 
 of locomotion ; whether she considered that the rays of 
 the morning sun visited them more directly on that 
 plane, or that the elevation exposed them to peculiar 
 atmospheric advantages; these were questions which 
 the curious mind was left to solve for itself, for the grave 
 office of carrying out and bringing in the milk-pans was 
 performed by Grandma with an air of mysterious calm, 
 which admitted of no profane comment or speculation. 
 
 Madeline laughed, watching her, the musical notes 
 ringing out with a touch of insane gayety. 
 
 " If ma knew it was Judgment Day," said she, " she'd 
 carry those milk-pans up the hill to dry, and if she knew 
 it was Judgment Hour she'd go to fetch 'em." 
 
 The scene grew rapidly weird as the sky darkened. 
 A low sigh, like a premonition, crept through the heavy 
 atmosphere and shivered among the peach-blossoms. 
 
 The first gust of wind seized Grandma, returning with 
 the milk-pans. It was a zephyr compared with the 
 blasts that followed, but it had the effect of giving to
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 305 
 
 that good soul's usually composed and reassuring pres- 
 ence, something of the appearance of a crazy and dis- 
 mantled ship, rolling in a high sea. 
 
 Grandpa was quick at detecting the resemblance, and 
 hailed her approach in thrilling nautical terms, such as : 
 " Why didn't ye reef yer topgallant, ma ! " when the 
 handkerchief was torn off her head ; and " hang to the 
 main-royal, ma," as Grandma's apron was caught up 
 and borne, wildly fluttering, about her ears ; and " keep 
 your ballast, ma," with frequent ejaculations of "Lor', 
 how she pitches ! how she pitches ! " 
 
 These were not thrown out as light shafts of ridicule. 
 It was no occasion for such. There was an awful 
 earnestness in Grandpa Keeler's eye and in his tone, 
 that invested his words with due solemnity. Grandma, 
 struggling with the wind, had not heard them. She en- 
 tered the Ark, however, cheerful though panting. 
 
 "Bijonah Keeler," said she, in accents of real affec- 
 tion, " I wouldn't have you out in that wind for no 
 money not for no money, nor our teacher, neither. 
 Why, no stronger than she is now, it 'ud take the breath 
 right out of our teacher's body ! Why, ef it hadn't been 
 for the cargo I had on board, pa," continued Grandma, 
 naturally falling into the same train of ideas we had 
 followed, while watching her battle with the elements, 
 " I should 'a' slipped moorin's, sure ! " 
 
 A casual listener might have smiled at this, in view 
 of Grandma's substantial physique. 
 
 Presently she said, as though the thought had just 
 struck her ; " I hope fisherman's got back to Wallen 
 Harbor, pa." 
 
 "And if he ain't, ma," replied Grandpa Keele^
 
 3 o6 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 sententiously, " he'll know what it is to be out in a 
 squall ! but I reckon he's looked out for himself." 
 
 The old Captain's face grew graver ; his eyes, in that 
 closed room, which had grown so suddenly dark, took 
 on an intensely solemn look. He did not attempt the 
 narration of any stormy adventures of old. Perhaps the 
 scenes of the past rose too vividly before his eyes. But, 
 as the fiercest gusts came, he kept muttering : 
 
 "I knew what it meant mild winter on the Cape! 
 There's the devil in the old Cape weather, teacher, and 
 he never skipped four seasons yit ! If it ain't one 
 time, it must be another. Yis, yis ! mild winter on the 
 Cape, and no March to speak on, and a hurricane in 
 summer ! Wall, we're both on us ri^ht, ma, and we're 
 both on us wrong. It ain't neither wind nor rain, but 
 the heavens let loose, and God A'mighty's own power a 
 blowin' of it. Yis, yis ! I had my misgivin's all along ; 
 thinks I, better a little more weather now, than to blast 
 every livin' thing by and by ; but I hadn't no idee o' 
 this ! The Lord ha' mercy ! The Lord ha' mercy ! " 
 
 For all that one could see through the windows was 
 a great black sheet of driving rain, and the roar of the 
 storm was terrible. The Ark shook. It seemed, at each 
 successive blast, as though the walls would fall in over our 
 heads. One could easily imagine the whole crazy struc- 
 ture borne onward before the resistless tempest, to take 
 a final wild leap from the cliffs. 
 
 "Wallencamp's agittin' all mixed up," said Grandpa, 
 without the faintest tinge of humor, now. " We sha'n't 
 know where to find ourselves when we git out o' this 
 'ere, ef we ever do git out on't. Lord ha' mercy I " 
 
 Madeline sat very white and still, resting her chin on 
 her hands, her great eyes staring out
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 307 
 
 Grandma held the two frightened children in her lap. 
 She was rocking and singing to them in a low, crooning 
 tone. Though she was pale and her lips trembled, 
 there was still about her a soothing atmosphere of 
 peace. 
 
 I was frightened, like the children. I longed to cry 
 out as they had done ; to bury my head away from the 
 terrors somewhere, as they did in Grandma's lap. 
 
 " That was the blackest squall," said Grandpa Keel- 
 er, afterwards ; " that ever swep' across the Cape ! " 
 
 Terrible as it had been, it died quickly. The transi- 
 tion seemed miraculous from the sullen roar of the wind 
 and torrent-fall of rain, to the renewed chirping of the 
 birds, the quiet dripping of the eaves, and sunshine 
 over all. 
 
 But the young peach-tree that had stood by the win- 
 dow of the Ark, and sent its fragrance into my little 
 room above, lay prone upon the ground. When she 
 saw that, Grandma Keeler moaned heart-brokenly, as 
 though it had been some fair human life stripped sud- 
 denly of its promise and left to wither fruitlessly. 
 
 There were traces of the storm everywhere. Trees 
 that had stood isolated in the fields lay, some of them, 
 with roots exposed ; others were broken off at the trunk, 
 left with only a branch or two, helpless figures with out- 
 stretched arms, to give a weird desolation to the land- 
 scape by and by, I thought with a shudder, when winter 
 should come again to Wallencamp. 
 
 The fences what remained of them from former 
 depredations had either fallen utterly to the ground, or 
 assumed a strikingly precarious position. 
 
 Part of the roof of Mr. Randal's house had been
 
 308 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 blown off, and the chimneys of several of the Wallen- 
 camp houses demolished, and Grandpa's barn twisted 
 and distorted almost beyond recognition. 
 
 That poor old gentleman put on his hat and stepped 
 out of the door cautiously, looking about him like one 
 in a dream. 
 
 The Ark had stood firm, apparently, in its old resting- 
 place. Grandma and Madeline proceeded to sweep out 
 the rain which had been driven in through the cracks, 
 and then it was that little Henry G. came running, with 
 a white face, to the door. He had an air of childish 
 importance, too, as being the first to bear tidings of 
 some strange and dreadful event, and eager to hasten 
 to other doors. 
 
 " Where's the rest ? " he gasped, seeing only me in 
 the room. "You tell 'em, teacher, Lute Cradlebow's 
 drownded ! " and the boy disappeared, without another 
 word. 
 
 I was already faint from the reaction of the excite- 
 ment incident to the storm, weak with the effort I had 
 made to " hold myself still." I heard Grandma call- 
 ing quickly, " Child ! child ! " I saw her coming 
 towards me, and then I lost consciousness. 
 
 At evening, while the sun went down over the hill by 
 which the transfigured river flowed, Captain Sartell sat 
 in the door of the Ark, and told the story. 
 
 The marvellous light was on his face, too. It fell, in 
 shafts of glory, on the bright foliage of the fallen tree. 
 
 Grandma was at Godfrey Cradlebow's, but Grandpa 
 Keeler was within the Ark, and Madeline caressing her 
 children with a new fondness. There were a few of the
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 309 
 
 neighbors present ; they looked neither frightened noi 
 curious, but ineffably exalted. 
 
 " We'd got our work about done," said Captain Sar- 
 tell, speaking mechanically and with little of his custom- 
 ary hesitation of manner. " As near as I calk'late, 
 there wa'n't a half hour's more work to do on the old 
 craft, and it had got to be sometime arter noon, but says 
 the boys, ' Let's finish her off, now we've got so near 
 through, and not have to come back ag'in.' They was 
 always a cheery set especially him when they took 
 hold of a job, to put it through. 
 
 "We'd seen them sailin' fellows go by a while before; 
 and we knew Rollin was one of 'em. They wasn't but 
 two, as we could see, managin' the craft ; and they was 
 full sail, clippin' it lively. I calk'late there ain't many 
 knows this shore better'n me, but I wouldn't 'a' durst 
 skirted along the adge down thar' at sech a rate, not in 
 the finest day blowin'. First, we thought it was some- 
 body didn't know what they was about. When we made 
 out it was Rollin, we knew, if he was drunk, he was 
 tol'able well acquainted with the rocks along shore, and 
 'ud probably put further out when he got through showin' 
 off. We didn't worry about 'em, nor think no more 
 about 'em, in special. The boys didn't want to talk to 
 rile George Olver. 
 
 " So we kep' to work, and in a minute, cheery ag'in 
 with the hammers click, clickin' and every now and 
 then the boys 'ud strike 'up a singin' something ' Beyond 
 the River,' and ' Homeward Bound.' 
 
 " It sounded dredful purty down thar' by the water, 
 with the water and the wideness all around sorter soft 
 enin' of it. It made a man feel curious and wishful 
 somehow.
 
 3io 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 " Well, by and by, him and George Olver struck up a 
 song. I've heern 'em sing it before, them two. As nigh 
 as I calk'late, it's about findin' rest in Jesus, and one a 
 askin' questions, all f a'r and squar', to know the way and 
 whether it's a goin' to lead thar' straight or not, and the 
 other answerin'. And he he was a tinkerin', 'way up 
 on the foremast, George Olver and the rest on us was 
 astern, and I'll hear to my dyin' day how his voice 
 came a floatin' down to us thar' chantin'-like it was 
 cl'ar and fearless and slow. So he asks, for findin' 
 Jesus, ef thar's any marks to foller by ; and George 
 Olver, he answers about them bleedin' nail-prints, and 
 the great one in His side. So then that voice comes 
 down ag'in, askin' if thar's any crown, like other kings, 
 to tell Him by; and George Olver, he answers straight 
 about that crown o' thorns. Then says that other voice, 
 floatin' so strong and cl'ar, and if he gin up all and 
 follered, what should he have ? what now ? 
 
 " So George Olver, he sings deep o' the trial and the 
 sorrowin'. But that other voice never shook, a askin', 
 and what if he helt to Him to the end, what then should 
 it be, what then ? George Olver answers : ' Forever- 
 more, the sorrowin' ended Death gone over.' 
 
 "Then he sings out, like his mind was all made up, 
 * And if he undertook it, would he likely be turned 
 away ? ' 
 
 " ' And it's likelier,' George Olver answers him ; 'that 
 heaven and earth shall pass.' 
 
 " So I'll hear it to my dyin' day his voice a floatin' 
 down to me from up above thar', somewhar', askin' them 
 questions that nobody could ever answer like, so soon, 
 he answered 'em for himself and when I looked u
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. ^n 
 
 thar' was Harvey, with his hammer dropped, and his 
 mouth wide open, a starin' up thar', and the tears 
 rollin' down his cheeks like he was a baby. 
 
 " They didn't sing no more, after that. They was 
 still for about five minutes, I calk'late. Harvey, he was 
 still, too ; but pretty soon, he wakes up and says, ' Gad, 
 boys ! Did ye ever see sech a queer look in the sky ? 
 I believe thar's a September gale brewin'." 
 
 " ' It's a little wind storm, I reckon,' says Bachelder. 
 Bachelder was settin', with his legs curled up under him, 
 mendin' sail, and he begun to spin one o' them yarns o' 
 hisn, with his voice pitched up middlin' high, and the 
 boys, they begun to laugh and cheer. 
 
 "Then Harvey says ; 'I'll run up to headquarters, 
 and find out about the weather ; ' and clim' up the main- 
 mast as limber as a squirrel, and when he came back, 
 thar' was Tommy's hat stickin' way up top o' the mast ; 
 so Tommy, he promised to pay him them two was 
 always foolin' together, but good-natered enough." The 
 captain introduced this little incident, in the midst of 
 his narration, with a dull, pathetic gravity, " It was the 
 last thing we thought on, o' bein' fearful, or calk'latin' 
 any danger. We reckoned it was a brisk little shower 
 comin' up, maybe, and the boys was runnin' one another 
 about gittin' into the cabin, and runnin' on about the old 
 craft. 
 
 " Then thar' come, all of a sudden, sech a strange 
 feelin', as ef the 'arth and the water was a tremblin', and 
 a dreadful moanin' sound runnin' through 'em. Seemed 
 as though it came swirlin' across the bay. Then it bust 
 on us in a fury. 
 
 " He was out, sorter lookin' around him, Bachelder
 
 312 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 was, and the wind took Bachelder up, and keeled 'im 
 over two or three times runnin'. 
 
 " Black it grew as the Jedgement day. Then come 
 no sich rain as ever I see, even the pourin'est, but the 
 clouds fallin' all to once, and the wind a scatterin' of 
 'em, and up on the cliffs, we could jest hear a creakin* 
 and a bendin' whar' the trees was turned as white as 
 ghosts in that 'ere blackness, and the old Bay, in sech a 
 minute, was spinnin' into foam. 
 
 " We was shelterin' around the old craft now, sure 
 enough, and nobody speakin' a word, but jest a holdin' 
 our breaths a waitin', when, in among them other noises, 
 thar' come, out on the water, sech a low, dull sound as 
 sent the awful truth on us in a minute, and for a minute, 
 that ar' right hand of mine was numb. 
 
 " Then Harvey, he had hold o' me, a pintin' out, and 
 whether he spoke a word or not, I seen it through 
 wind and rain and foam, all in my eyes to once, I seen 
 reelin' and tossin' and pitchin', out thar' on the Bay, 
 lost, lost for sure I seen that fancy ship ! 
 
 " Thar' wa'n't no hand on 'arth could guide it, now. 
 Every second was like to see it keeled squar' over, or 
 slipped and driv' in, straight on to the rocks. 
 
 " We're used to other'n fa'r weather along this shore. 
 I calk'late we ain't used to frighten at a little danger, 
 but knowin' the sea so well, we know the helplessness 
 a'most o' puttin' out in sech a gale as that. 
 
 " I heered the sound. It only came but once : and 
 Bede hissed through his teeth, a cryin' too, a'most: 
 ' Ain't thar' no other way to werry us, but they must 
 come in here to drown afore our very eyes ! A fool's 
 ventur' ! what could ye expect but a fool's end 1 Ef he 
 must drown, let the red-haired devil drown 1 '
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 313 
 
 " But when they heered it, them two, him and George 
 Olver, I knowed how it would be. I hc.rdly durst to 
 look. I seen them flash at one another with their 
 great eyes, as ef it wa'n't enough to do man's work, but 
 when thar' come a chance, they must go act like God ! 
 I seen in jest that flash, them two agreein' solemnly. 
 
 " Then it was all done in a minute's space, like you'll 
 live yer life through sometimes, in a dream. They had 
 Bill Barlow's eight-oar ready. They pushed us back. 
 They'd a' gone alone, them two. I kep' the third place. 
 Harvey and Tommy scurried, in a breath, and Harvey, 
 he thrust Tommy back, and we was off. 
 
 " God knows I never expected we'd come back again. 
 You heern the wind. You can calk'late what it was out 
 thar' with the rain a drivin', and the salt foam blowed 
 into our eyes. I calk'late we never fetched a harder 
 pull, no, nor a blinder one. 
 
 " And she, the cursed thing, mad with twitchin' at her 
 cable, lay over to one side. But she was dyin' mad. 
 I tell ye she was dyin 5 mad. Thar' was them two a 
 hangin' to her thar' hadn't be'n but them. So we 
 hauled Rollin in, but that other one, when he seen us, 
 the chance o' bein' saved, it crazed him, and he sent 
 up a quick, glad sort of a yell and throwed his arms 
 out straight, and back he fell, like lead, into the water. 
 And Rollin, crouchin' thar' and shiverin', ' He couldn't 
 swim ! He's sunk ! he's sunk ! ' he says. Then he, he 
 ris up in a flash, and out he dove into that hell. 
 
 " Then come another gust, a blindin', blindin', blindhV. 
 1 He'll weather it ! He'll weather it ! ' George Olver kep' 
 a mutterin", but his teeth was set ; his eyes shot through 
 me like a tiger's them two was brothers, and more'n
 
 314 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 brothers, always. But when thar' come a half lull so't 
 we could see, raid we looked out and seen him risin' on 
 the wave, grippin' that other one, in spite o' hope I 
 scurse believed my eyes, and what a shout they sent up 
 from that boat ! 
 
 " Ay, thar' they was, for sure, but God, how fur 
 away ! Not much for common weather, but then they 
 looked as fur to me as 'arth from heaven. Ef we could 
 reach 'em afore the next sweel come ; and every man, 
 it seemed as though he put his livin' soul into his arms. 
 * Pull ! pull ! ' says George, and seemed to git the 
 strength of seven, but still we went too slow. We missed 
 him at the oar. And he, he was the strongest swimmer 
 that I ever knowed, but who could live in the like o' 
 that ? We pulled for life or death, and that brave head 
 kep' risin' on the wave. 
 
 " Ef we could 'a' had another minute afore the next 
 sweel come ! George Olver felt it. He sent the rope 
 out with a giant's throw. Then it was all and more than 
 we could do to hold the boat ag'in the wind. It come so 
 fast ye scurse could see them next ye in the boat. 
 'He's grappled it! he's thar'! he's thar'! says they, 
 and when they pulled it in, thar' was that other one helt 
 fast, and only him. 
 
 " God knows ! I calk'late he made sure o' the other 
 first, and thar' wa'n't jest the breath's time left for him, 
 blinded so sudden maybe, and fell death faint. I've 
 knowed it be so with the strongest ; no wonder thar' ; 
 the wonder was in what he done. He was the strongest 
 swimmer that I ever knowed, the strongest and the fear- 
 lessest 1 
 
 "George Olver never*!! be content. He would 'a*
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 gone in after him. We'd be'n driv' a furlong back, I 
 reckon, and every mark was lost. It 'ud be'n naught 
 but to swaller him, too. He lost his sense. We had to 
 holt him back. He raved thar', like a madman. It 
 blew a bitter spell, longest of all, and when it helt a bit 
 so we could take our bearin's some'at, what hope ! what 
 hope! 
 
 " But poor George, of a suddint he grew quiet as a 
 lamb, and set a lookin' out, with his hand light on the 
 oar, as ef 'twas pleasant weather, and he could see him 
 ridin' in thar' easy on the wave ; and his eyes was fur 
 off and smilin', but they looked as though they died. 
 
 " Mebbe I know no more. 
 
 " We found him arterwards. Thar' wa'n't no mark 
 nor stain on him. You think I talk dry-eyed. Go you 
 and look at him. Somehow it don't leave ary breath 
 for cryin'. It's like as ef he knowed. It's more than 
 quietness, seemin' to say, for all he loved his life and 
 fou't so hard out thar', ter lose his own at last givin' 
 or losin', he never missed o' naught ! he never missed 
 o' naught ! 
 
 " I can't tell what's the thought comes nighest to ye 
 when we look at him. I hain't got high enough for 
 that, but I can tell ye what's the furderest weepin* 
 and sorrowin'. Since I seen him and my little Bessie 
 fell asleep, please God I die a half so trustful or so 
 brave, I make no fear o' death ! " 
 
 The Captain sighed a long, ecstatic sigh and rose, the 
 after-glow still shining on his face. In passing through 
 the room, he pressed something softly into my hand. 
 
 "We found it in the breast-pocket of his coat, 
 teacher," he said. " The coat lay in the bottom o' the
 
 316 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 boat, and was soaked with brine. It had your name 
 on't." 
 
 When I unfolded it, it was the little star-fish the 
 Cradlebow had showed me, days before, still folded 
 close in its delicate vine wreath.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 317 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 GEORGE OLVER'S ORATION. 
 
 HE Wallencampers gathered at the Ark, singing 
 a calm and high farewell to eaith, that alone 
 was meet for the untroubled lips of that silent 
 singer in their midst 
 
 They gathered at the Ark. No other place seemed to 
 them sacred enough for such a meeting, now ; no other 
 place dear enough for the celebration of such a solemn, 
 long farewell. 
 
 Over the threshold, where he had come so often 
 bounding in his life, they brought the dead ; there was the 
 same strange look of exaltation on their faces that I had 
 noticed while Captain Sartell told the story of the storm ; 
 stricken and white, the poor faces, yet touched with 
 some daring, unutterable hope so clear a message they 
 read on that wondrously still and reconciled face, so 
 without fear the dead lips spoke to them. 
 
 To me, the message was one of infinite pathos and 
 rebuke, speaking of a heroism beyond my poor concep- 
 tion, of a height of glory of which I had not dreamed. 
 
 " Farewell, forevermore," the fathomless far voice 
 murmured to my despair, and slowly and repeatedly ; 
 " Farewell, forevermore. I am beyond the need of your 
 poor love."
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 And my heart turned to stone, with all the passionate, 
 pure sorrow that might have been, the tears in which 
 I might have found relief. 
 
 Grandma Keeler's sacred "keepin' rooms" were 
 opened wide for the reception of this guest, yet the 
 sunshine stole in with a hallowed light, the entering 
 breeze sighed low and softly. The children, always 
 present, were, on this occasion, attentively still. 
 
 There were no external signs of woe for the poor 
 Wallencampers to assume ; they made no mad demon- 
 strations of their grief ; the suffering and the wonder 
 were too deep. 
 
 Lydia they all knew how she had loved this son. 
 When they returned from their perilous quest in the 
 storm, the first words Captain Sartell said were ; " Who 
 must go up now, and break Lyddy's heart ? " 
 
 She stood among the others, very still, the old faded 
 mantilla folded decently over her shoulders, the great 
 dark eyes, his eyes, shining out even kindly from the 
 worn face on those who came to speak to her. 
 
 Godfrey Cradlebow stood at the outer door, and 
 addressed the people as they entered. Some said, after- 
 wards, that he had been drinking ; others declared he 
 had not touched a drop for days. In the room where I 
 stood, I heard his musical, deep tones, now swelling with 
 the fervor of his harangue, now broken and trembling 
 with emotion. 
 
 " Enter, my friends ! " said this strange man. " Go 
 in, and look on quietness. What do we seek for most, 
 my friends? Look out on the world. It's a whole 
 world of seekers. How they jostle against one another ! 
 how they sweat ! how they strive ! how they toil ! and
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 319 
 
 why all this ? What seek they for ? For quietness, my 
 friends, even so the quietness of wealth to gain, may 
 be, or competence ; may be, the quietness of some 
 renown. And some go seeking over land and sea for 
 their lost health, and quietness from pain. 
 
 " My friends, within there was as restless a seeker as 
 I ever knew. Pity the old, my friends, but pity more the 
 young ! Never such dreams of rest ! Never such rest- 
 lessness ! Hush ! when he heard, he answered welL 
 He put all by. Somehow, we think he has obtained 
 wealth, honor, perfect health. My friends, pass in ! 
 behold this wonder ! 
 
 " My friends, you look up at the sky. Ah, what a 
 sky ! purple and deep ! Yet I see something in your 
 eyes that is not quietness ; for storms will come, too 
 well you know, and the cold blasts of winter ; but if you 
 knew that never any sorrowful, hard wind could sweep 
 across yon blue then, my friends, you would look as 
 he looks who lies within there. Pass in ! pass in ! behold 
 this wonder." 
 
 Within, Grandma Keeler stood with closed eyes and 
 folded hands. Her cheeks were wet. She wore a 
 heavenly, trustful expression of countenance. Her lips 
 moved as if in prayer. 
 
 Aunt Sibylla Cradlebow rose in her place majestic 
 and weird she looked, like some old Eastern prophetess, 
 a grand forecasting in her shadowy eyes. 
 
 " Gether in the sheaves," she began ; " the bright 
 sheaves, early ripe and ready for the harvestin' ; and 
 begrudge not the Master of His harvestin'. Why, O 
 Lord, Lord, this sheaf, while there be them that stand, 
 late harvest day, bowed and witherin' in the cornfield ?
 
 320 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 Because He reckons not o' time. Glory, glory, to the 
 Lord o' the harvestin' ! But gather in for me, He says, 
 my bright sheaves, early ripe ! my sheaves o' the golden 
 wine ! 
 
 " It was the night but two before my grandson died, I 
 seen a death-sign in a dream, and so I speaks to my 
 son's wife, but ' Fear you not,' I says ; ' it was the blessed 
 sign o' blessed death ; ' and thought o' some one old 
 and helpless, sick maybe, gettin' release thereby. Why 
 this sheaf, O Lord ? Glory, glory, to the Lord o' the 
 harvestin' ! For I dreamt there was a bird ketched in 
 my room, and flutterin' here and there, and beatin' 'ginst 
 the window with its wings. And dreamin' I ris up, and 
 there was such a light along the floor as never any moon- 
 light that I see was half so solemn or so beautiful. But 
 when I stretched my hand to free the poor, blind, flutterin' 
 bird, it ris away from me, and spread its wings, snow- 
 white, and out it flew, and sharp and clear along that 
 shinin' track. Then when I woke, I knew it was the 
 sign o' blessed death, nor ever feared. And God will 
 bear me true, it was the very night they brought my 
 grandson home that, lyin' down to rest a while from, 
 watchin' with the rest, nor ever wonderin' nor layin' it 
 to mind what I had dreamed afore, but tired and heart- 
 broke only, I seen the long, bright shinin' track ag'in, a 
 pourin' through the window ; and ' My son's son ! ' I 
 cries, ' dear boy ! dear boy ! ' for it was like him playin' 
 on his violin 'What tunes must be,' I cries, ' that you 
 play so and scarce a day in heaven ! ' But when I ris 
 up, callin', it grew dim along the track, and there was 
 mornin' in the room, and then I heered them cryin' 
 where they watched.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 321 
 
 "Why this sheaf, O Lord? gether in the sheaves, 
 
 Lord, the bright sheaves, early ripe and ready for the 
 harvestin'. Glory, glory to the Lord o' the harves- 
 tin' ! " 
 
 Then the Wallencampers sang tremblingly of the 
 " Harvest Home." They were glad when they saw 
 George Olver stand up in their midst George Olver, 
 least subject of them all to dreams or ecstasies, but 
 with his slow, labored speech, and his sorrowful, bowed 
 head. He took his place beside the coffin of his friend, 
 looked gently at that face, and squared his shoulders 
 for a moment then, and held his head with the old man- 
 ly air : 
 
 " When Uncle 'Lihu died," said he ; " my friend and 
 me walked home together from the funeral, and Luther 
 says to me : ' I want you to promise me, George, that if 
 
 1 shed die, you wouldn't have that man to preach over 
 me,' meanin' the minister, though he was kindly to him ; 
 ' and he means well,' says he ; ' but he don't understand 
 us ; he knows naught about us 'ceptin' that now we're 
 dead, and not bein' used to them long texts o' hisn, it 
 frets our folks,' says he. ' They weary on't, so long a 
 string they har'ly understand ; but I would rather,' Lu- 
 ther says, ' have some one amongst my folks that knowed 
 me well, git up and speak, ef it was only : This was 
 my friend lies here; I loved him. And promise me, 
 George, ef I shed die, you'd hev no stranger preachin* 
 over me, but speak some such easy words yourself for 
 love o' me.' And I felt with him thar', and promised 
 him, and he me ; but I remember thinkin', as I looked 
 at him, it's little likely I'll ever stand above your grave. 
 
 " Enough said. ' This was our friend lies here. We
 
 322 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 loved him.' We thank him for them words. Better 
 uor more, they cl'ar it all up on this side twixt him and 
 us. No need ter tell o' what he was, or what he done. 
 'Tain't likely we'll forgit. He didn't say ter praise him. 
 He wanted none o' that, but jest we knowed and loved 
 him. 
 
 " And so it might 'a' been enough, but now, my God ! 
 my God ! as I stand here aside o' him, he bids me, 
 plain as day, to speak a word beyent ; ef I could only 
 name it, ef I could only name it, what looks so cl'ar and 
 beautiful thar' on his face. 
 
 " ' Hold strong ; ' he says, ' below thar'. Keep heart 
 and make cl'ar reckonin', for it's losin' all may be, in 
 this 'ere mystery, makes cl'arest gain o' all. There's 
 fairer day to rest ye arter storm. All's well ! all's 
 well ! ' he says ; ' all's well beyent. All's well along this 
 shore ! ' " 
 
 Here George Giver's husky voice failed him ; sobs 
 rose in the room. 
 
 Then the " farewell " was sung, and bravely ; but at 
 rne last, I heard only Madeline's voice, it grew so sur- 
 passingly clear and sweet ; it seemed to float solitary in 
 the room, and to play triumphantly about the sleeper's 
 lips the voice, indeed, of a free spirit in its bliss, 
 thrilled only with some plaintive memory of human woe 
 and loss. 
 
 "Farewell, ye dreams of night; 
 
 Jesus is mine ! 
 Lost in this dawning bright; 
 Jesus is mine 1
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 323 
 
 All that my soul has tried, 
 Left but a dismal void ; 
 Jesus has satisfied 
 Jesus is mine 1 
 
 Farewell, mortality I 
 
 Jesus is mine I 
 Welcome, eternity I 
 
 Jesus is mine 1 
 
 Welcome, the loved and blest I 
 Welcome, bright scenes of rest I 
 Welcome, my Saviour's breast 1 
 
 Jesus is mine 1 
 
 Scarcely had the leaves of the fallen peach-tree by 
 the window begun to wither when the strong bearers 
 passed out with their beautiful, stainless burden, while 
 slowly, reverently, the little community of mourners 
 followed to the grave.
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 FAREWELL TO WALLENCAMP. 
 
 : ET another week passed in Wallencamp before 
 I was able to complete the preparations for my 
 departure. 
 
 One day, I set myself with a sort of listless fidelity to 
 the summing up of my accounts. I found, on deduct- 
 ing the amount of my actual expenses from the sum 
 total of my earnings in Wallencamp, that I had sixty- 
 two cents left ! 
 
 The revelation caused me some surprise ; strangely 
 little perturbation of spirit. I thought what tragic tales 
 might sometimes lie hidden beneath a seemingly dry 
 and senseless combination of figures, while, in my own 
 case, I was merely struck with the justice of those fig- 
 ures. 
 
 For such eccentric and distracted services as I had 
 rendered in Wallencamp, the superintendent of schools 
 had paid me in full at the price stipulated, eight dollars 
 per week. 
 
 On the other hand, the column of insolvency, I con- 
 sidered that the West Wallen Doctor's bill was an 
 expression of modesty itself. The sum due my dear 
 Madeline for " board," at two dollars and a half per week, 
 though I trusted it was some compensation for the merely
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 325 
 
 temporal advantages to be enjoyed in Wallencamp, did 
 not appear as an astounding aggregate. The list of 
 " minor details " was well portrayed, and presented an 
 aspect of clear use and value. 
 
 My once fond dream of a " private bank account " 
 had gradually faded from my memory. I saw the last 
 spar in that fair wreck go down, now, without a sigh. 
 And the " loans solicited," in labored phrase, as " mere 
 temporary conveniences," from the friends at home 
 these, I was satisfied, must remain only as the sweet 
 continuation of a life-long debt. But how was I to get 
 home? 
 
 The combined fares on that route, I remembered, had 
 amounted to something over nine dollars ! So the 
 question haunted me, not restlessly, but with a vague, 
 tranquil, melancholy interest, as pertaining to the history 
 of some one who had lived and died a few years before j 
 so long indeed, it seemed to me, since I had performed 
 the journey to Wallencamp. 
 
 I had not written home as to the day of my probable 
 arrival, in this yielding passively to the force of habit, 
 which had ever constrained me to plan my returns as 
 " surprises " to my family and friends. 
 
 But for myself, I had fixed the day of my departure 
 from Wallencamp, and, in spite of the discovery made in 
 regard to the insufficient state of my finances, looked 
 forward to that event without any trepidation, so that, 
 I remember it was actually the day before the one 
 fixed on, and still no hope had dawned on the financial 
 horizon, when Grandma Keeler embraced me with 
 some tender words premonitory of our parting, I kissed 
 her gratefully, musing at the same time in dreamy,
 
 326 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 untroubled fashion r " Yes, I must be going home 
 to-morrow." 
 
 It was on this same day that we drove to " Wallen 
 Town," Grandma and Madeline and Becky and I. The 
 excursion was one Grandma had planned several weeks 
 before, and I had no intention of making it the oppor- 
 tunity which I finally did. 
 
 As we were passing a dingy-looking establishment, 
 where some doubtful articles of virtu appeared in the 
 window, an idea seized me, as new as it was comprehen- 
 sive of my difficulties. 
 
 I went in, ostensibly to purchase a watch-key, really 
 to engage in negotiations of a more serious and compli- 
 cated nature. The proprietor of the shop became the 
 temporary guardian of my watch, while I was invested 
 with the funds necessary for my homeward journey. I 
 learned, afterwards, that this man had made an excep- 
 tion in the usually limited range of his operations, in my 
 favor, his establishment not being, by any means, that 
 of a pawnbroker, but, in every sense, of the most highly 
 moral and respectable nature. 
 
 He gave me such " ready cash " as his coffers would 
 yield, with an improvised pawnbroker's check, at the 
 composition of which we had both seriously and 
 ingeniously labored. I can testify both to his honesty 
 and obligingness. He insisted on my taking with me, 
 " jest to tell the time o' day," a very large watch in a 
 tarnished silver case. 
 
 Not wishing to seem to cast any disparagement on 
 his wares, I became the helpless recipient of this favor. 
 The article in question was far too large for my watch- 
 pocket, and had a persistent habit of holding its mouth
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS, 327 
 
 vide open like a too weary shell-fish. On the interior 
 of the case, one on either side, were pasted photographs 
 of individuals to me unknown, male and female, their 
 countenances such as the blinded eye of affection alone, 
 I thought, could have rendered mutually entertaining; 
 and the watch maintained, on all occasions, a system of 
 chronology peculiarly its own. 
 
 As we drove back to Wallencamp, Grandma Keeler, 
 her great heart close to Nature that sunny afternoon, 
 beguiled the way with a gentle hilarity which never 
 shocked or offended, but Becky put her hand often in 
 mine, looking up with the old helpless, pleading expres- 
 sion in her eyes Becky, I knew, would remember 
 longest. 
 
 Sometimes, as my hand wandered almost uncon- 
 sciously to caress the precious coin in my pocket, instead 
 of the wild tract of stunted cedars through which our 
 road lay, I fancied I saw the great elms of Newtown. 
 the wide, straight street, the familiar house, an open 
 door, and ah ! it wasn't the first time I had been taken 
 in at that door, the survivor of wrecked ambition and 
 misguided hope, only to hear my shortcomings made 
 tenderly light of, my most desperate follies lovingly 
 ignored and forgiven. 
 
 But I had meant that it should be so different this 
 time ! I had gone out as a missionary ; and deeper 
 than ever in my consciousness, I must feel the want and 
 woe of the returning prodigal ; the same old story, the 
 ever-recurring failure. It seemed as though all the won- 
 der and impatience might well go out of my despair. 
 
 Then as I lent myself more and more to the contem- 
 plation of that home picture, how restful and happy it
 
 328 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 grew ! but poor old Wallencamp for we were nearing 
 the little settlement now, and the sun was fast westering 
 poor, squalid, solitary, beautiful Wallencamp, as I 
 looked down upon it from the brow of Stony Hill, thrilled 
 me with a troubled sense of some diviner, some half- 
 comprehended glory. 
 
 The crimson glow had not quite faded in the sky when 
 I took my last walk across the fields to where the new 
 grave had been made on the hillside. This is the new 
 burying-ground of the Wallencampers ; the old one lies 
 a mile farther up the river, near the Indian encamp- 
 ment. Here I saw more than one simple slab, bearing 
 the name of Cradlebow. Here little Bess lies, too. The 
 hill, meet for such sublime repose, looks ever calmly on 
 the humble, straggling homes of the Wallencampers 
 below, and sees the lonely river winding near, and hears, 
 by night and day, the monody of deeper waters. 
 
 I thought the voice of that great ocean of restlessness 
 sounding along the shore might quiet my unrest, but the 
 beat of the waves, the growing gloom of that stil/ 
 evening hour, oppressed me with a feeling unutterably 
 sad. I could not bear it, at last. It seemed as though 
 another deep was rising and breaking in my heart, the 
 flood of proud, half-stifled passion waking in one awful 
 moment to overwhelm me. No light upon that sea 
 but hope wronged, the mockery of death for yearning 
 love, the unguided clash of drifting human lives ! 
 
 An agony of blindness swam before my eyes. I felt 
 my weak hands clutching at the grass, and gasped, as 
 though it had been indeed in the blindness and pain of 
 physical death, the prayer wrung from my selfish need. 
 But the answer was of infinite love and compassion. It
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 329 
 
 came to me then not as some grave revelation ot 
 truth to the " enlightened seeker," but like the kiss or 
 peace to a tired child, a door mysteriously opened to 
 the self-bound captive, to one ignorant, the light shining 
 along a plain, straight way. And the doubt and terror 
 and anguish went out of the world ; even the sorrowless 
 farewell of frozen lips changed to tender benediction. 
 
 When I looked up at last, wondering, peaceful, my 
 face wet with happy tears, the stars had come out in the 
 sky, and, down below, the windows of the Ark were 
 shining. The faint murmur of a song was borne up to 
 me. The Wallencampers had gathered at the Ark to 
 celebrate our last " meeting " together, and I went down 
 to join them. 
 
 At what ghostly hour of the next morning Grandma 
 Keeler awoke Grandpa to the unusual exigencies of the 
 occasion, I cannot say. It was necessary for me to 
 start very early from the Ark to take the train at West 
 Wallen, but when I descended the stairs, by candle- 
 light, Grandpa Keeler had been already washed and 
 dyed and arrayed, as for the Sabbath, in his best. Yes, 
 and I was constrained to believe that he had even been 
 instructed in the mysteries of Sunday-school lore, for 
 there was about him an air of haggard and feverish 
 excitement, and he glared at my familiar presence with 
 wild, unseeing eyes. 
 
 Memorable were the colloquies held that morning 
 between Grandma and Grandpa Keeler; Grandpa's 
 tragic assumption of manly consequence, and solemn 
 fears lest we should miss the train, directed in astute 
 syllables of warning towards Grandma Keeler ; Grand-
 
 330 
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 ma's increased deliberation, and imperturbable quietude 
 of soul. 
 
 1 recall the strange, unearthly aspect of the scenes 
 enacted in the Ark at that early hour, the fleeting vision 
 of a morning repast which formed some accidental part 
 in the chaos of vaster proceedings. 
 
 Then, when the first faint signs of dawn were begin- 
 ning to break through the gray in the eastern sky, I bade 
 farewell to the Ark forever, lingering a moment on the old 
 familiar doorstep for a last word with those of the 
 neighbors who had gathered there to see us off, for the 
 whole Keeler family accompanied me to the station. 
 
 There were others waiting at the gate to say good- 
 bye, and at various posts all the way down the lane. At 
 the big white house, Emily came running out, breathless. 
 She whispered hurriedly in my ear ; " There was a 
 message left Ye wasn't well. I reckon 'twas a mes- 
 sage. When fisherman and that other one came up from 
 the shore, day o' the storm, he came to our house for 
 Sim to take him to Wallen. lie said it was better to be 
 the dead one than him. He was awful white, and Sim 
 got harnessed, and just as fisherman was goin' out, he 
 left a message along o* me, though there wasn't no 
 names mentioned, and he talked queer; but he 
 wanted as somebody should know that he realized it all 
 now, and he couldn't make up for it, never ; but it was 
 go'n' to be new or nothin' for him, and they shouldn't 
 want for nothin', never, and kep' a sayin' more, and no 
 message, exactly, as ye could call a message, but I 
 reckoned I thought may be " 
 
 Emily's glowing eyes, fixed on my face, grew very 
 wide and grave. I could only press her hand in parting
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 331 
 
 for Grandpa, growing impatient, had succeeded in 
 clucking Fanny on again. 
 
 We drove along the river road, and, passing through 
 the Indian encampment, there were more good-byes ex 
 changed by the roadside. 
 
 Then climbing up " Sandy Slope," beyond the settle- 
 ment, we heard the shrill " Hullo ! " of a familiar voice, 
 and looking back, saw Bachelor Lot running after us 
 very swiftly, his head destitute of covering, and his 
 little wizened face glowing red as the celestial Mars in 
 the distance. He looked like some odd, fantastic toy 
 that had been wound up and set going. 
 
 So he came up with us, and trying to conceal his 
 breathlessness in polite little " hums and haws," deliv- 
 ered aside, he offered me a huge bouquet, composed, I 
 should think, of every sort of wild-flower available on 
 the Cape at that season, and showing, in its arrange- 
 ment, marks of the most arduous striving after artistic 
 effect. In the other hand, he held out to me a basket 
 of large, selected boxberries. 
 
 I accepted the gifts with unaffected delight, and 
 thanked Bachelor Lot warmly. I looked back at him, 
 trudging cheerfully homeward through the sand, so 
 withered and small, with the gray in his hair, and his 
 coat so much too long for him back to the poor 
 bzown house, which no tender love had ever hallowed, 
 or merry waiting laugh made bright for him ; and I 
 wondered, along his life's way which looked so sad and 
 desolate, what hidden wild flowers God had strewed for 
 him, that he seemed always so humbly cheerful and 
 content, and brought his best of offerings with a smile 
 to bless the happier lot of others.
 
 332 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 For the rest of the way, the wild untenanted stretch 
 was unbroken by any incident ; yet I remember no 
 tedium by the way ; and I believe that a trip taken 
 with Grandma and Grandpa Keeler through the most 
 trackless desert would inevitably have been made to 
 teem with diversion. Those blessed souls! I smile, 
 looking back, but through tears, and with a reverence 
 and tenderness far deeper than the smile. 
 
 By the time we reached the West Wallen depot the 
 sky had clouded over. 
 
 "A little shower comin' up," Grandma said, but 
 Grandpa shook his head and prophesied " a long, stiddy 
 spell o' weather." 
 
 I persuaded my friends not to wait with me for the 
 arrival of the train which, owing to some discrepancy 
 in the matter of time between Wallencamp and West 
 Wallen, would not be due for an hour or more. 
 
 I watched them out of sight, the last of my Wallen- 
 camp 1 How deeply, how utterly it had grown into my 
 life, so that now, in spite of the secret, glad exultation 
 I felt at the thought of going home, my heart went run- 
 ning out after that quaint, receding vehicle, and aching 
 sensibly. 
 
 On board the train at last, I began to experience 
 something of the sensation of one who awakens from 
 a long sleep to the half-forgotten ways of men and Me 
 with a vague, untroubled wonder as to the latest styles 
 in dress ; or, like a traveller from a strange country, 
 weary, and way-worn, and out of date, who yet can 
 smile, hugging in his breast the happy secret of bound- 
 less wealth in the gold-mine he has discovered far 
 away. 
 
 '
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 333 
 
 I had neither umbrella, portmanteau, nor shawl-strap ; 
 such ordinary paraphernalia of travel I remembered 
 once to have possessed, and tried in vain to recall the 
 particular occasions on which they had been wrecked in 
 Wallencamp. I bore with me my bouquet, my basket 
 of boxberries, some small cedar trees for transplanting, 
 and half of the largest clam-shell the shores of Cape 
 Cod had ever produced ; this last a parting gift from 
 Lovell Barlow. 
 
 I was far from being troubled with the consciousness 
 of anything quaint or bizarre in my appearance. I felt 
 no mortification on account of these treasures so intrin- 
 sically dear to my heart ; but Grandma Keeler had 
 insisted on binding a mustard paste on my chest. It 
 was a parting request I could not have refused but 
 in the close air of the car the physical torture began to 
 be extreme. Tears fell on the cedar spray at my side, 
 yet was I withal strangely, peacefully happy. 
 
 It was raining when I passed through Boston. Once 
 more in the din of a city, jolting noisily over the rough, 
 uneven pavements, I found myself wondering continually 
 if the Keelers had reached home, and imagining how the 
 rain was falling gently, quietly, on the roof of the Ark. 
 
 At the next stage, at Hartford, I was half afraid that 
 I should meet brother or sister or some member of the 
 family, and so have the completeveffect of my " surprise " 
 destroyed ; but I saw none of them. There were few 
 passengers on board the Newtown-bound train. It was 
 raining still. I was growing more and more glad at 
 heart, and looking out with my arm pressed against the 
 window, when I heard a voice right over me a soft, 
 pitiful, thrilling exclamation :
 
 334 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 "Great Heavens!" 
 
 I looked up and saw John Cable. 
 
 He sank slowly down into the seat in front of me and, 
 for a moment, neither of us spoke. I did not mind 
 meeting John. I had not thought of including him in 
 the surprise. The sight of his familiar, friendly face gave 
 me a positive thrill of pleasure, but there was something 
 in his manner that kept me silent. 
 
 I said : " I am going to surprise them, John." 
 
 There was nothing offensive in the grave, swift glance 
 with which John Cable then took me in, me and my bou- 
 quet of wilted wild-flowers and my small cedar trees, only 
 a slow, solemn distinctness in his tone. 
 
 " You will succeed," he said. " Undoubtedly you will 
 succeed." 
 
 Still I felt no resentment. A gentle, sorrowful per- 
 plexity filled my breast. 
 
 " Why, do I look very very unusual, 
 John ? " I questioned, and looking in his face I wondered 
 why, in the old days of careless jest and repartee, he 
 had never seemed so moved. 
 
 More words he said, but I could not bear them then, 
 and tears from an inward pain fell on the cedar spray, 
 yet I was glad that I had not grown so unusual that 
 people would never like me any more. 
 
 Next, the surprise was a success, as John Cable had 
 predicted, but that was the one point in my career in 
 which my genius had never failed me. My surprises, 
 though inclined to take something of the nature of an 
 accumulation of calamities, had never lacked the great 
 element of awe-producing wonder. 
 
 For the rest, I had known that I should be forgivea-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 335 
 
 and received with the usual icl&t of the returned prodi- 
 gal into the family bosom but to be held up on suc- 
 cessive days as an object of ever-increasing marvel and 
 interest, as one whose words and acts were endowed 
 with a peculiar significance, as the light of the social 
 fireside, the enchanter of small spell-bound audiences ! 
 Well, I had been spoiled so early in life that little was 
 needed to complete the wreck. I felt a deeper satis- 
 faction when, as I was meekly beseeching our Bridget's 
 instruction in some particular branch of the culinary art, 
 that majestic female observed, as she folded her arms 
 and looked down on me complacently : 
 
 "There's one thing I like better about you than I 
 used to, miss you do have to wade through a great 
 deal o' flour to larn a little plain cookin', but Job him- 
 self couldn't a' be'n no patienter." And it was indeed 
 true that my " Graham gems " never quite reached per- 
 fection, though they bore with them marks of earnest and 
 faithful endeavor. 
 
 I found new sources of interest everywhere, and in 
 ways which I had formerly regarded with aversion and 
 disdain. 
 
 At the " Newtown Ladies' Charitable Sewing Society," 
 I was elevated from among the common stitchers and 
 sewers, for faithfulness in service, I believe, though 
 malicious fingers would point to the distortion of the 
 legs of little heathens' trousers to a place on the " cut- 
 ting circle." From the cutting circle, it is needless to 
 say, I was speedily exalted to a presidential chair of 
 easeful observation and general vague superintend- 
 ency. 
 
 Later, there was a revival of the "Literary Club.*
 
 336 CAPE COD FOLKS. 
 
 There John Cable and I shone once more amid a group 
 of familiar and undimmed luminaries. John Cable 
 never took up the exact thread of the discourse broken 
 off so abruptly on the day of my return, in the cars, but 
 it was when coming home from the club one evening 
 that he expressed himself to the effect that I had always 
 been a great burden on his mind, ever since the first 
 day he led me to school, and, to be sure, I had shown 
 signs of improvement lately, but there was always a 
 pardonable doubt as to what I might do next, and it 
 was wearing on him, and would I set his mind at rest 
 by allowing him, in some sense, to take the direction of 
 my life into his own hands ? 
 
 John, though of adverse views, had been heatedly 
 discussing the merits of the Capital Punishment ques- 
 tion at the club, so I was not surprised at the unusual 
 grace and flow of his address. 
 
 Years have passed since that evening. I have been 
 very happy as John's wife. If I wander in my story, 
 be it said that little John is running a model express- 
 train on the floor over my head. Little John, when 
 not dreaming, exercises a vast amount of destructive 
 physical force. 
 
 
 
 A little more than a year after I left Wallencamp, I 
 heard of Grandma and Grandpa Keeler's death. " Very 
 quiet and peaceful," they said concerning Grandma, 
 but I had known what sort of a death-bed hers would 
 be. Scarcely a week after she had passed away, Grand- 
 pa Keeler followed her. I had it from good authority 
 that he kept about the house till the last. There was a 
 ** rainy spell," and he stood often gazing out of the win-
 
 CAPE COD FOLKS. 337 
 
 dow " mth a lost look on his face," and once he said 
 with a wistful, broken utterance and a pathetic longing 
 in his eyes that did away forever with any opprobrium 
 there might have been in connection with the term, that 
 " it was gittin' to be very lonely about the house without 
 ma pesterin' on him." 
 
 Since then, I have not heard from Wallencamp. It 
 is doubtful whether I ever get another letter from that 
 source. Though singularly gifted in the epistolary 
 art, it is but a dull and faint means of expression to the 
 souls of the Wallencampers and they will not forget. 
 From the storms that shake their earthly habitations, 
 they pass to their sweet, wild rest beside the sea ; and 
 by and by, when I meet them, I shall hear them sing.
 
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 HIS HOUR. By Elinor Glyn. Illustrated. 
 
 A beautiful blonde Englishwoman visits Russia, and is vio- 
 lently made love to by a young Russian aristocrat A most unique 
 situation complicates the romance. 
 
 THE GAMBLERS. By Charles Klein and Arthur Hornblow, 
 Illustrated by C. E. Chambers. 
 
 A big, vital treatment of a present day situation wherein men 
 play for big financial stakes and women flourish on the profits or 
 repudiate the methods. 
 
 CHEERFUL AMERICANS. By Charles Battell Loomis. Illus- 
 trated by Florence Scovel Shinn and others. 
 
 A good, wholesome, laughable presentation of some Americans 
 at home and abroad, on their vacations, and during their hours of 
 relaxation. 
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WORLIk By Ella Wheeler Wilcox, 
 
 Clever, original presentations of present day social problems 
 and the best solutions of them. A book every girl and woman 
 should possess. 
 
 THE LIGHT THAT LURES. By Percy Brebner. 
 Illustrated. Handsomely colored wrapper. 
 
 A young Southerner who loved Lafayette, goes to France to 
 aid him during the days of terror, and is lured in a certain direction 
 by the lovely eyes of a Frenchwoman. 
 
 THE RAMRODDERS. By Holman Day. Frontispiece by 
 Harold Matthews Brett. 
 
 A clever, timely story that will make politicians think and will 
 make women realize the part that politics play even in theil 
 romances. 
 
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 A CERTAIN RICH MAN. By William Allen White. 
 
 A vivid, startling portrayal of one man's financial greed, its 
 wide spreading power, its action in Wall Street, and its effect on 
 the three women most intimately in his life. A splendid, enter- 
 taining American novel. 
 
 IN OUR TOWN. By William Allen White. Illustrated by F. 
 R. Gruger and W. Glackens. 
 
 Made up of the observations of a keen newspaper editor, 
 involving the town millionaire, the smart set, the literary set, the 
 bohemian set, and many others. All humorously related and sure 
 to hold the attention. 
 
 NATHAN BURKE. By Mary S. Watts. 
 
 The story of an ambitious, backwoods Ohio boy who rose 
 to prominence. Everyday humor of American rustic life per- 
 meates the book. 
 
 VHE HIGH HAND. By Jacques Futrelle. Illustrated by Will 
 Grefe. 
 
 A splendid story of the political game, with a son of the 
 soil on the one side, and a "kid glove" politician on the other. 
 A pretty girl, interested in both men, is the chief figure. 
 
 THE BACKWOODSMEN. By Charles G. D. Roberts. Illustrated. 
 Realistic stories of men and women living midst the savage 
 beauty of the wilderness. Human nature at its best and worst 
 is well protrayed. 
 
 YELLOWSTONE NIGHTS. By Herbert Quick. 
 
 A jolly company of six artists, writers and other clever 
 folks take a trip through the National Park, and tell stories around 
 camp fire at night. Brilliantly clever and original. 
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S MYSTERY. By Wells Hastings and 
 Brian Hooker. Illustrated by Hanson Booth. 
 
 A young college professor, missing his steamer for Europe, 
 has a romantic meeting with a pretty girl, escorts her home, and 
 Is enveloped in a big mystery. 
 
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 TITLES SELECTED FROM 
 
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 May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list 
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. By Thompson Buchanan. Illustrated 
 , by W. W. Fawcett. Harrison Fisher wrapper printed in fou? 
 colors and gold. 
 
 An intensely interesting story of a marital complication in 
 a wealthy New York family involving the happiness of a 
 beautiful young girl. 
 
 TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace Miller White. 
 Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. 
 
 An amazingly vivid picture of low class life in a New 
 York college town, with a heroine beautiful and noble, who makes 
 a. great sacrifice for love. 
 
 FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING. By Grace Miller 
 White. 
 Frontispiece and wrapper in colors by Penrhyn Stanlaws. 
 
 Another story of "the storm country." Two beautiful chil- 
 dren are kidnapped from a wealthy home and appear many years 
 after showing the effects of a deep, malicious scheme behind 
 their disappearance. 
 
 THE LIGHTED MATCH. By Charlss Neville Buck. Illus- 
 trated by R. F. Schabelitz. 
 
 A lovely princess travels incognito through the States and 
 falls in love with an American man. There are ties that bind her 
 to someone in her own home, and the great plot revolves round 
 her efforts to work her way out. 
 
 MAUD BAXTER. By C. C. Hotchkiss. Illustrated by Will 
 Grefe. 
 
 A romance both daring and delightful, involving an Amer- 
 ican girl and a young man who had been impressed into English 
 service during the Revolution. 
 
 THE HIGHWAYMAN. By Guy Rawlence. Illustrated by 
 Will Grefe. 
 
 A French beauty of mysterious antecedents wins the love 
 of an Englishman of title. Developments of a startling charactei 
 and a clever untangling of affairs hold the reader's iuterest. 
 
 THE PURPLE STOCKINGS. By Edward Salisbury Field 
 Illustrated in colors; marginal illustrations. 
 
 A young New York business man, his pretty sweetheart, 
 his sentimental stenographer, and his fashionable sister are all 
 mixed up in a misunderstanding that surpasses anything in the 
 way of comedy in years. A story with a laugh on every page. 
 
 Asl for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction 
 
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 TITLES SELECTED FROM 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAFS LIST 
 
 May be had wherever backs aa sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's fist 
 
 THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS. By Meredith Nich- 
 olson. Illustrated by C. Coles Phillips and Reginald Birch. 
 
 Seven suitors vie with each other for the love of a beautiful 
 girl, and she subjects them to a test that is fnll of mystery, magic 
 and sheer amusement. 
 
 THE MAGNET. By Henry C. Rowland. Illustrated by Clarence 
 F. Underwood. 
 
 The story of a remarkable courtship involving three pretty 
 girls on a yacht, a poet -lover in pursuit, and a mix-up in the names 
 of the giils. 
 
 THE TURN OF THE ROAD. By Eugenia Brooks Frothingham. 
 A beautiful young opera singer chooses professional success 
 instead of love, but comes to a place in life where the call of the 
 heart is stronger than worldly success. 
 
 SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY. By Margaret Morse. Illustrated 
 by Harold M. Brett. 
 
 A young girl whose affections have been blighted is presented 
 with a Scotch Collie to divert her mind, and the roving adventures 
 of her pet lead the young mistress into another romance. 
 
 SHEILA VEDDER. By Amelia E. Barr. Frontispiece by Harri- 
 son Fisher. 
 
 A very beautiful romance of the Shetland Islands, with a 
 handsome, strong willed hero and a lovely girl of Gaelic blood as 
 heroine. A sequel to "Jan Vedder's Wife." 
 
 JOHN WARD. PREACHER. By Margaret Deland. 
 
 The first big success of this much loved American novelist. 
 It is a powerful portrayal of a young clergyman's attempt to win his 
 beautiful wife to his own narrow creed. 
 
 ,THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT. By Robert W. Service. 
 
 Illustrated by Maynard Dixon. 
 
 One of the best stories of "Vagabondia " ever written, and 
 one of the most accurate and picturesque of the stampede of gold 
 seekers to the Yukon. The love story embedded in the narrative 
 is strikingly original, 
 
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 A FEW OF 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP'S 
 Great Books at Little Prices 
 
 BRUVVER JIM'S BABY. By Philip Verrill Mighels. 
 
 An uproariously funny story of a tiny mining settlement in the 
 West, which is shaken to the very roots by the suddenpossession 
 of a baby, found on the plains by one of its residents. The town is 
 \as disreputable a spot as the gold fever was ever responsible for, 
 ' and the coming of that baby causes the upheaval of every rooted 
 tradition of the place. Its christening, the problems of its toys and 
 its illness supersede in the minds of the miners all thought of earthy 
 treasure. 
 
 THE FURNACE OF GOLD. By Philip Verrill Mighels, 
 author of " Bruvver Jim's Baby." Illustrations by J. M. 
 Marchand. 
 
 An accurate and informing portrayal of scenes, types, and conof- 
 tions of the mining districts in modern Nevada. 
 
 The book is an out-door story, clean, exciting, exemplifying no- 
 bility and courage of character, and bravery, and heroism in the sort 
 of men and women we ail admire and wish to know. 
 
 THE MESSAGE. By Louis Tracy. Illustrations by Joseph 
 C. Chase. 
 
 A breezy tale of how a bit of old parchment, concealed in a figure- 
 head from a sunken vessel, comes into the possession of a pretty 
 girl and au army man during regatta week in the Isle of Wight. 
 This is the message and it enfolds a mystery, the development of 
 which the reader will follow with breathless interest. 
 THE SCARLET EMPIRE. By David M. Parry. lUus. 
 trations by Hermann C. Wall. 
 
 A y;ung socialist, weary of life, plunges into the sea and awakes 
 In the '.ost island of Atlantis, known as the Scarlet Empire, where 
 a social democracy is in full operation, granting every man a living 
 but limiting food, conversation, education and marriage. 
 
 The hero passes through an enthralling love affair and other ad- 
 ventures but finally returns to his own New York world. 
 
 THE THIRD DEGREE. By Charles Klein and Arthur 
 Hornblow. Illustrations by Clarence Rowe. 
 
 A novel which exposes the abuses in this country of the police 
 System. 
 
 The son of an aristocratic New York family marries a woman 
 socially beneath him, but of strong, womanly qualities that, later 
 on, save the man from the tragic consequences of a dissipated life 
 
 The wife believes in his innocence and her wit and good sens* 
 help her to win against the tremendous odds imposed by law. 
 
 THE THIRTEENTH DISTRICT. By Brand Whitlock.. 
 A realistic western story of love and politics and a searching study 
 rf their influence on character. The author shows with extraordi- 
 i vy vitality of treatment the tricks, the heat, the passion, tHj tu- 
 UJuit of the political arena the triumph and strength of lore. 
 
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 TITLES SELECTED FROM 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAFS LIST 
 
 May bo had wherever books are iold. Ask for Grosset & Duniap's list 
 
 THE SILENT CALL. By Edwin Milton Royle. Illustrated 
 with scenes from the play. 
 
 The h-To of this story is the Squaw Man's son. He has 
 been taken u England, but spurns conventional life for the sake 
 of the untamed West and a girl's pretty face. 
 
 JOHN MARCH, SOUTHERNER. By George W. Cable. 
 
 A story of the pretty women and spirited men of the South. 
 As fragrant in sentiment as a sprig of magnolia, and as fall of 
 mystery and racial troubles as any romance of "after the war" 
 days. 
 
 MR. JUSTICE RAFFLES. By E. W. Hornung. 
 
 This engaging rascal is found helping a young cricket player 
 out of the toils of a money shark. Novel in plot, thrilling and 
 amusing. 
 
 FORTY MINUTES LATE. By F Hopkinson Smith. Illustrated 
 by S. M. Chase. 
 
 Delightfully human stories of every day happenings; of a 
 lecturer's laughable experience because he's late, a young woman's 
 excursion into the stock market, etc. 
 
 OLD LADY NUMBER 31. By Louise Forsslund. 
 
 A heart-warming story of American rural life, telling of the 
 adventures of an old couple : .n an old folk's home, their sunny, 
 philosophical acceptance of misfortune and ultimate prosperity. 
 
 THE HUSBAND'S STORY. By David Graham Phillips. 
 
 A story that has given all Europe as well as all America much 
 food for thought. A young couple begin life in humble circum- 
 stances and rise in worldly matters until the husband is enormously 
 rich the wife in the most aristocratic European society but at the 
 price of their happiness. 
 
 THE TRAIL OF NINETY -EIGHT. By Robert W. Service. 
 Illustrated by Maynard Dixon. 
 
 One of the best stories of "Vagabondia" ever written, and 
 one of the most accurate and picturesque descriptions of the stam- 
 pede of gold seekers to the Yukon. The love story embedded in 
 the narrative is strikingly original. 
 
 Afi for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction 
 
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 A FEW OF 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP'S 
 Great Books at Little Prices 
 
 HAPPY HAWKINS. By Robert Alexander Wason. Illus 
 
 trated by Howard Giles. 
 
 A ranch and cowboy novel. Happy Hawkins tells his own ston 
 Ofith such a fine capacity for knowing how to do it and with so rnucn 
 humor that the reader's interest is held in surprise, then admiration 
 And at last in positive affection. 
 
 COMRADES. By Thomas Dixon, Jr. Illustrated by C. D, 
 
 Williams. 
 
 The locale of this story is in California, where a few socialists 
 establish a little community. 
 
 The author leads the little band along the path of disillusion- 
 ment, and gives some brilliant flashes of light on one side of an 
 important question. 
 TONO-BUNGAY. By Herbert George Wells. 
 
 The here of this novel is a young man who, through hard workj 
 earns a scholarship and goes to London. 
 
 Written with -a frankness verging on Rousseau's, Mr. Wells stiT' 
 uses rare discrimination and the border line of propriety is nevel 
 crossed. An entertaining book with both a story and a moral, and 
 without a dull page Mr. Wells's most notable achievement. 
 A HUSBAND BY PROXY. By Jack Steele. 
 
 A young criminologi&t, but recently arrived in New York citv 
 
 is drawn into a mystery, partly through financial need and partly 
 
 hrough his interest in a beautiful woman, who seems at times the 
 
 Simplest child and again a perfect mistress of intrigue. A baffling 
 
 detective story. 
 
 ,IKE ANOTHER HELEN. By George Horton. Illus- 
 trated by C. M. Relyea. 
 
 Mr. Horton's powerful romance stands in a new field and brings 
 an almost unknown world in reality before the reader the world 
 of conflict between Greek and Turk on the Island of Crete. The 
 " Helen " of the story is a Greek, beautiful, desolate, defiant pure 
 as snow. 
 
 There is a certain new force about the story, a kind of master 
 craftsmanship and mental dominance that holds the reader. 
 
 THE MASTER OF APPLEBY. By Francis Lynde 
 Illustrated by T. de Thulstrup. 
 
 M A novel tale concerning itself in part with the great struggle it. 
 4he two Carolinas, but chiefly with the adventures therein of twc 
 gentlemen who loved one and the same lady. 
 
 A strong, masculine and persuasive story. 
 
 A MODERN MADONNA. By Caroline Abbot Stanley. 
 
 A story of American life, founded on facts as they existed some 
 fears ago in the District of Columbia. The theme is the material 
 Jove and splendid courage of a woman. 
 
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 TITLES SELECTED FROM 
 
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 v THE GARDEN OF FATE. By Roy Norton. Illustrated 
 
 by Joseph Clement Coll. 
 
 The colorful romance of an American girl in Morocco, and 
 Of a beautiful garden, whose beauty and traditions of strange 
 Subtle happenings were closed to the world by a Sultan's seal. 
 
 THE MAN HIGHER UP. By Henry Russell Miller. 
 
 Full page vignette illustrations by M Leone Bracken 
 
 The story of a tenement waif who rose by his own ingenuity 
 
 lo the office of mayor of his native city. His experiences 
 
 while "climbing," make a most interesting example of the 
 
 possibilities of humar. nature to rise above circumstances. 
 
 THE KEY TO YESTERDAY. By Charles Fwille 
 Buck. Illustrated by R. Schabelitz. 
 
 Robert Saxon, a prominent artist, has an accident, while in 
 Paris, which obliterates his memory, and the only clue he has 
 to his former life is a rusty key. What door in Paris v'll it 
 "unlock ? He must know that before he woos the girl he lovea, 
 
 THE DANGER TRAIL. By James Oliver CurwocL 
 Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 The danger trail is over the snow-smothered North. A 
 young Chicago engineer^ who is building a road through the 
 Hud&on Bay region^ is involved in mystery, and is led into 
 ambush by a young woman. 
 
 THE GAY LORD WARING. By Houghton Tovmley, 
 
 Illustrated by Will Grefe. 
 
 A story of the smart hunting set in England. A gay young 
 lord wins in love against his selfish and cowardly brother and 
 apparently against fate itself. 
 
 BY INHERITANCE. By Octave Thanet. Illustrated 
 
 by Thomas Fogarty. Elaborate wrapper in colors. 
 
 A wealthy New England spinster with the most elaborate 
 
 plans for the education of the negro goes to visit her nephew 
 
 m Arkansas, where she learns the needs of the colored race 
 
 &rst hand and begins to lose her theories. 
 
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 GROSSET & DUNLAP'S 
 
 DRAMATIZED NOVELS 
 
 Original, sincere and courageous often amusing the 
 kind that are making theatrical history. 
 
 MADAME X. By Alexandra Bisson and J. W. McCon- 
 aughy. Illustrated with scenes from the play. 
 A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her hus- 
 band would not forgive an error of her youth. Her love for 
 Jier son is the great final influence in her career. A tremen- 
 dous dramatic success. 
 
 THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens. 
 
 An unconventional English woman and an inscrutable 
 stranger meet and love in an oasis of the Sahara. Staged 
 this season with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties. 
 
 THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By Lew. Wallace. 
 
 A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, presenting 
 with extraordinary power the siege of Constantinople, and 
 lighting its tragedy with the warm underglovv of an Oriental 
 romance. As a play it is a great dramatic spectacle. 
 
 TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace 
 Miller White. Illust. by Howard Chandler Christy. 
 A girl from the dregs of society, loves a young Cornell Uni- 
 versity student, and it works startling changes in her life and 
 the lives of those about her. The dramatic version is one of 
 the sensations of the season. 
 
 YOUNG WALLINGFORD. By George Randolph 
 
 Chester. Illust. by F. R. Gruger and Henry Raleigh. 
 
 A series of clever s\vindles conducted by a cheerful young 
 
 man, each of which is just on the safe side of a State's prison 
 
 offence. As " Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford," it is probably 
 
 the most amusing expose of money manipulation eves 1 seen 
 
 On the stage, 
 
 THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY. By P. G. Wode-' 
 
 house. Illustrations by Will Grefe. 
 Social and club life in London and New York, an amateur 
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 title of "A Gentleman of Leisure," it furnishes hours of 
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 IRVING BACHELLER 
 
 Full of the real atmosphere of American home life. 
 
 THE HAND-MADE GENTLEMAN. With a double- 
 
 page frontispiece. 
 
 The son of a wash-woman begins re-making himself 
 socially and imparts his system to his numerous friends. A 
 story of rural New York with an appreciation of American 
 types only possible from the pen of a humor loving American. 
 
 PARREL OF THE BLESSED ISLES. With illustra- 
 tions by Arthur I. Keller. 
 
 A tale of the North Country. In Barrel, the clock tinker, 
 wit, philosopher and man of mystery, is portrayed a force held 
 in fetters and covered with obscurity, yet strong to make its 
 way, and widely felt. 
 
 D'RI AND I; A Tale of Daring Deeds in the Second War 
 
 with the British. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 
 "D'ri" was a mighty hunter, quaint, rugged, wise, truth- 
 ful. He fights magnificently on the Lawrence, and is a strik- 
 ing figure in this enthusiastic romance of early America. 
 
 EBEN HOLDEN: A Tale of the North Country. 
 
 A story of the hardy wood-choppers of Vermont, who 
 founded their homes in the Adirondack wilderness. "Eben," 
 the hero, is a bachelor with an imagination that is a very 
 wilderness of oddities. 
 
 SILAS STRONG: Emperor of the Woods. 
 
 A simple account of one summer life, as it was lived in 
 part of the Adirondacks. Silas Strong is a woodland philos- 
 opher, and his camp is the scene of an impressive little love 
 fitory. 
 
 VERGILIUS: A Tale of the Coming of Christ. 
 
 A thrilling and beautiful story of two young Roman 
 Patricians whose great and perilous love in the reign of 
 Augustus leads them through the momentous, exciting events 
 that marked the year just preceding the birth of Christ. 
 
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 THE NOVELS OF 
 
 WINSTON CHURCHILL 
 
 Skillful in plot, dramatic in episode, powerful and original in climax. 
 
 MR. CREWE'S CAREER. Illus. by A.I. Keller and Kinneys. 
 
 A New England state is under the political domination 
 of a railway and Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes the moment 
 when the cause of the people against corporation greed is 
 being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his 
 own interest in a political way, by taking up this cause. 
 
 The daughter of the railway president, with the sunny- 
 humor and shrewd common sense of the New England girl, 
 plays no small part in the situation as well as in the life of the 
 young attorney who stands so unflinchingly for clean politics. 
 THE CROSSING. Illus. by S. Adamson and L. Baylls. 
 
 Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie and the British 
 fleet in the harbor of Charleston, the blazing of the Kentucky 
 wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of daunt- 
 less followers in Illinois, the beginning of civilization along 
 the Ohio and Mississippi, and the treasonable schemes builded 
 against Washington and the Federal Government. 
 CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn. 
 
 A deft blending of love and politics distinguishes this 
 book. The author has taken for his hero a New Englander, 
 a crude man of the tannery, who rose to political prominence 
 by his own powers, and then surrendered all for the lovfc oi a 
 woman. 
 
 It is a sermon on civic righteousness, and a love story of a 
 deep motive. 
 THE CELEBRITY. An Episode. 
 
 An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of 
 personalities between a celebrated author and a bicycle sales- 
 man of the most blatant type. The story is adorned with 
 some character sketches more living than pen work. It is the 
 purest, keenest fun no such piece of humor has appeared for 
 years : it is American to the core. 
 THE CRISIS. Illus. by Howard Chandler Christy. 
 
 A book that presents the great crisis in our national life 
 with splendid power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a 
 patriotism that are inspiring. The several scenes in the book 
 in which Abraham Lincoln figures must be read in their en- 
 tirety for they give a picture of that great, magnetic, lovable 
 man, which has been drawn with evident affection and excep- 
 tional success. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26rn ST., NEW YORK.
 
 THE NOVELS OF 
 
 GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON 
 
 GRAUSTARK. 
 
 A story of love behind a throne, telling how a young 
 American met a lovely girl and followed her to a new and 
 strange country. A thrilling, dashing narrative. 
 BEVERLY OF GRAUSTARK. 
 
 Beverly is a bewitching American girl who has gone to 
 that stirring little principality Graustark to visit her friend 
 the princess, and there has a romantic affair of her own. 
 BREWSTER'S MILLIONS. 
 
 A young man is required to spend one million dollars in 
 one year in order to inherit seven. How he does it forms the 
 basis of a lively story. 
 CASTLE CRANEYCROW. 
 
 The story revolves round the abduction of a young Amer- 
 ican woman, her imprisonment in an old castla wnU the adven- 
 tures created through her rescue. 
 COWARDICE COURT. 
 
 An amusing social feud in the Adirondacks in which an 
 English girl is tempted into being a traitor t>y a romantic 
 young American, forms the plot. 
 THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW. 
 
 The story centers about the adopted daughter of the towt 
 mnrshal in a western village. Her parentage is shrouded it 
 mystery, and the story concerns the secret that deviously 
 works to the surface. 
 THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S. 
 
 The hero meets a princess in a far-away island araons 
 fanatically hostile Musselmen. Romantic love making amid 
 amusing situations and exciting adventures. 
 NEDRA. 
 
 A young couple elope from Chicage to go to London 
 traveling as brother and sister. They are shipwrecked and a 
 strange mix-up occurs on account of it. 
 THE SHERRODS. 
 
 The scene is the Middle West and centers around a man 
 who leads a double life. A most enthralling novel. 
 TRUXTON KING. 
 
 A handsome good natured young fellow ranges on th< 
 earth looking for romantic adventures and is finally enmeshec 
 in most complicated intrigues in Graustark. 
 
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