DEEPHAYEN
 
 DEEP HA VEN. 
 
 SARAH O. JEWETT. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY, 
 
 Late Ticknor & Fields, and Fields, Osgood, & Co. 
 1877.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1877. 
 Bv JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO. 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS : WELCH, BIGELOW, & Co., 
 CAMBRIDGE.
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 jjjHIS book is not wholly new, several of 
 the chapters having already been pub- 
 lished in the "Atlantic Monthly." 
 
 It has so often been asked if Deephaven may 
 not be found on the map of New England under 
 another name, that, to prevent any misunderstand- 
 ing, I wish to say, while there is a likeness to be 
 traced, few of the sketches are drawn from that 
 town itself, and the characters will in almost 
 every case be looked for there in vain. 
 
 I dedicate this story of out-of-door life and 
 country people first to my father and mother, my 
 two best friends, and also to all my other friends, 
 whose names I say to myself lovingly, though I 
 do not write them here. 
 
 S. 0. J. 
 
 2001659
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PACK 
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN 9 
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE AND THE LIGHTHOUSE . 22 
 MY LADY BKANDON . . . . . .41 
 
 DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY 68 
 
 THE CAPTAINS 86 
 
 DANNY 98 
 
 CAPTAIN SANDS 114 
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DEXBY 124 
 
 GUNNER-FISHING 149 
 
 MRS. BONNY . 188 
 
 IN SHADOW 204 
 
 Miss CHAUNCEY ....... 224 
 
 LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN 241
 
 DEEPHAVEN
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN. 
 
 HAD been spending the winter in Bos- 
 ton, and Kate Lancaster and I had been 
 together a great deal, for we are the best 
 of friends. It happened that the morning when 
 this story begins I had waked up feeling sorry, 
 and as if something dreadful were going to hap- 
 pen. There did not seem to be any good reason 
 for it, so I undertook to discourage myself more 
 by thinking that it would soon be time to leave 
 town, and how much I should miss being with 
 Kate and my other friends. My mind was still 
 disquieted when I went down to breakfast ; but 
 beside my plate I found, with a hoped-for letter 
 from my father, a note from Kate. To this day 
 I have never known any explanation of that de- 
 pression of my spirits, and I hope that the good 
 luck which followed will help some reader to lose 
 fear, and to smile at such shadows if any chance 
 to come.
 
 10 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 Kate had evidently written to me in an excited 
 state of mind, for her note was not so trig-looking 
 as usual ; but this is what she said : 
 
 DEAR HELEX, I have a plan 1 think it a most de- 
 lightful plan in which you and I are chief characters. 
 Promise that you will say yes ; if you do not you will have 
 to remember all your life that you broke a girl's heart. 
 Come round early, and lunch with me and dine with me. 
 I 'm to be all alone, and it 's a long story and will need a 
 great deal of talking over. 
 
 I showed this note to my aunt, and soon went 
 round, very much interested. My latch-key 
 opened the Lancasters' door, and I hurried to the 
 parlor, where I heard my friend practising with 
 great diligence. I went up to her, and she turned 
 her head and kissed me solemnly. You need not 
 smile ; we are not sentimental girls, and are both 
 much averse to indiscriminate "kissing, though 
 I have not the adroit habit of shying in which 
 Kate is proficient. It would sometimes be im- 
 polite in any one else, but she shies so affection- 
 ately. 
 
 "Won't you sit down, dear]" she said, with 
 great ceremony, and went on with her playing, 
 which was abominable that morning; her fingers 
 stepped on each other, and, whatever the tune
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN. 11 
 
 might have been in reality, it certainly had a 
 most remarkable incoherence as I heard it then. 
 I took up the new Littell and made believe read 
 it, and finally threw it at Kate j you would have 
 thought we were two children. 
 
 " Have you heard that my grand-aunt, Miss 
 Katharine Brandon of Deephaven, is dead 1 " I 
 knew that she had died in November, at least six 
 months before. 
 
 " Don't be nonsensical, Kate ! " said I. " What 
 is it you are going to tell me 1 " 
 
 " My grand-aunt died very old, and was the last 
 of her generation. She had a sister and three 
 brothers, one of whom had the honor of being my 
 grandfather. Mamma is sole heir to the family 
 estates in Deephaven, wharf-property and all, and 
 it is a great inconvenience to her. The house is 
 a charming old house, and some of my ancestors 
 who followed the sea brought home the greater 
 part of its furnishings. Miss Katharine was a 
 person who ignored all frivolities, and her house 
 was as sedate as herself. I have been there but 
 little, for when I was a child my aunt found no 
 pleasure in the society of noisy children who upset 
 her treasures, and when I was older she did 
 not care to see strangers, and after I left school
 
 12 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 she grew more and more feeble ; I had not been 
 there for two years when she died. Mamma went 
 down very often. The town is a quaint old place 
 which has seen better days. There are high rocks 
 at the shore, and there is a beach, and there are 
 woods inland, and hills, and there is the sea. It 
 might be dull in Deephaven for two young ladies 
 who were fond of gay society and dependent upon 
 excitement, I suppose ; but for two little girls who 
 were fond of each other and could play in the 
 boats, and dig and build houses in the sea-sand, 
 and gather shells, and carry their dolls wherever 
 they went, what could be pleasanteH" 
 
 "Nothing," said I, promptly. 
 
 Kate had told this a little at a time, with a few 
 appropriate bars of music between, which suddenly 
 reminded me of the story of a Chinese procession 
 which I had read in one of Marryat's novels when 
 I was a child : " A thousand white elephants richly 
 caparisoned, ti-tum tilly-lily," and so on, for a 
 page or two. She seemed to have finished her 
 story for that time, and while it was dawning upon 
 me what she meant, she sang a bit from one of 
 Jean Ingelow's verses : 
 
 " Will ye step aboard, my dearest, 
 For the high seas lie before us ? "
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN. 13 
 
 and then came over to sit beside me and tell the 
 whole story in a more sensible fashion. 
 
 " You know that my father has been meaning 
 to go to England in the autumn ] Yesterday 
 he told us that he is to leave in a month and will 
 be away all summer, and mamma is going with 
 him. Jack and Willy are to join a party of their 
 classmates who are to spend nearly the whole of 
 the long vacation at Lake Superior. I don't care 
 to go abroad again now, and I did not like any 
 plan that was proposed to me. Aunt Anna was 
 here all the afternoon, and she is going to take the 
 house at Newport, which is very pleasant and 
 unexpected, for she hates housekeeping. Mamma 
 thought of course that I would go with her, but I 
 did not wish to do that, and it would only result 
 in my keeping house for her visitors, whom I know 
 very little ; and she will be much more free and 
 independent by herself. Beside, she can have my 
 room if I am not there. I have promised to 
 make her a long visit in Baltimore next winter 
 instead. I told mamma that I should like to stay 
 here and go away when I choose. There are ever 
 so many visits which I have promised ; I could 
 stay with you and your Aunt Mary at Lenox if she 
 goes there, for a while, and I have always wished
 
 14 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 to spend a summer in town ; but mamma did not 
 encourage that at all. In the evening papa gave 
 her a letter which had come from Mr. Dockum, 
 the man who takes care of Aunt Katharine's place, 
 and the most charming idea came into my head, 
 and I said I meant to spend my summer in Deep- 
 haven. 
 
 " At first they laughed at me, and then they said 
 I might go if I chose, and at last they thought 
 nothing could be pleasanter, and mamma wishes 
 she were going herself. I asked if she did not 
 think you would be the best person to keep me 
 company, and she does, and papa announced that 
 he was just going to suggest my asking you. I 
 am to take Ann and Maggie, who will be overjoyed, 
 for they came from that part of the country, and 
 the other servants are to go with Aunt Anna, and 
 old Nora will come to take care of this house, as 
 she always does. Perhaps you and I will come 
 up to town once in a while for a few days. We 
 shall have such jolly housekeeping. Mamma and 
 I sat up very late last night, and everything is 
 planned. Mr. Dockum's house is very near Aunt 
 Katharine's, so we shall not be lonely ; though I 
 know you 're no more afraid of that than I. 
 Helen, won't you go 1 "
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN. 15 
 
 Do you think it took me long to decide 1 
 Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster sailed the 10th of June, 
 and my Aunt Mary went to spend her summer 
 among the Berkshire Hills, so I was at the Lan- 
 casters' ready to welcome Kate when she came 
 home, after having said good by to her father and 
 mother. We meant to go to Deephaven in a week, 
 but were obliged to stay in town longer. Boston 
 was nearly deserted of our friends at the last, and 
 we used to take quiet walks in the cool of the 
 evening after dinner, up and down the street, or 
 sit on the front steps in company with the servants 
 left in charge of the other houses, who also some- 
 times walked up and down and looked at us won- 
 deringly. We had much shopping to do in the 
 daytime, for there was a probability of our spend- 
 ing many days in doors, and as we were not to be 
 near any large town, and did not mean to come to 
 Boston for weeks at least, there was a great deal 
 to be remembered and arranged. We enjoyed 
 making our plans, and deciding what we should 
 want, and going to the shops together. I think 
 we felt most important the day we conferred with 
 Ann and made out a list of the provisions which 
 must be ordered. This was being housekeepers in 
 earnest. Mr. Dockum happened to come to town,
 
 16 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 and we sent Ann and Maggie, with most of our 
 boxes, to Deephaven in his company a day or two 
 before we were ready to go ourselves, and when 
 we reached there the house was opened and in 
 order for us. 
 
 On our journey to Deephaven we left the railway 
 twelve miles from that place, and took passage 
 in a stage-coach. There was only one passenger 
 beside ourselves. She was a very large, thin, 
 weather-beaten woman, and looked so tired and 
 lonesome and good-natured, that I could not help 
 saying it was very dusty ; and she was apparently 
 delighted to answer that she should think every- 
 body was sweeping, and she always felt, after being 
 in the cars a while, as if she had been taken all to 
 pieces and left in the different places. And this 
 was the beginning of our friendship with Mrs. 
 Kew. 
 
 After this conversation we looked industriously 
 out of the window into the pastures and pine- 
 woods. I had given up my seat to her, for I do 
 not mind riding backward in the least, and you 
 would have thought I had done her the greatest 
 favor of her life. I think she was the most grate- 
 ful of women, and I was often reminded of a 
 remark one of my friends once made about some
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN. 17 
 
 one : " If you give Bessie a half-sheet of letter- 
 paper, she behaves to you as if it were the most 
 exquisite of presents ! " Kate and I had some 
 fruit left in our lunch-basket, and divided it with 
 Mrs. Kew, but after the first mouthful we looked 
 at each other in dismay. " Lemons with oranges' 
 clothes on, are n't they 1 " said she, as Kate threw 
 hers out of the window, and mine went after it for 
 company; and after this we began to be very 
 friendly indeed. We both liked the odd woman, 
 there was something so straightforward and kindly 
 about her. 
 
 " Are you going to Deephaven, dear 1 " she asked 
 me, and then : " I wonder if you are going to stay 
 long] All summer] Well, that 's clever ! I do 
 hope you will come out to the Light to see me ; 
 young folks 'most always like my place. Most 
 likely your friends will fetch you." 
 
 " Do you know the Brandon house 1 " asked 
 Kate. 
 
 "Well as I do the meeting-house. There! 
 I wonder I did n't know from the beginning, but I 
 have been a trying all the way to settle it who 
 you could be. I 've been up country some weeks, 
 stopping with my mother, and she seemed so set 
 to have me stay till straw berry -time, and would 
 
 B
 
 18 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 hardly let me come now. You see she 's getting 
 to be old ; why, every time I 've come away for 
 fifteen years she 's said it was the last time I 'd 
 ever see her, but she 's a dreadful smart woman of 
 her age. * He ' wrote me some o' Mrs. Lancaster's 
 folks were going to take the Brandon house this 
 summer ; and so you are the ones 1 It 's a sightly 
 old place ; I used to go and see Miss Katharine. 
 She must have left a power of china-ware. She 
 set a -great deal by the house, and she kept every- 
 thing just as it used to be in her mother's day." 
 
 " Then you live in Deephaven too 1 " asked 
 Kate. 
 
 " I 've been here the better part of my life. I 
 was raised up among the hills in Vermont, and 
 I shall always be a real up-country woman if I live 
 here a hundred years. The sea does n't come 
 natural to me, it kind of worries me, though you 
 won't find a happier woman than I be, 'long shore. 
 When I was first married ' he ' had a schooner and 
 went to the banks, and once he was off on a 
 whaling voyage, and I hope I may never come to 
 so long a three years as those were again, though 
 I was up to mother's. Before I was married he 
 had been 'most everywhere. When he came home 
 that time from whaling, he found I 'd taken it so
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN. 19 
 
 to heart that he said he 'd never go off again, and 
 then he got the chance to keep Deephaven Light, 
 and we Ve lived there seventeen years come Jan- 
 uary. There is n't great pay, but then nobody 
 tries to get it away from us, and we 've got so 's 
 to be contented, if it is lonesome in winter." 
 
 " Do you really live in the lighthouse 1 I re- 
 member how I used to beg to be taken out there 
 when I was a child, and how I used to watch for 
 the light at night," said Kate, enthusiastically. 
 
 So began a friendship which we both still 
 treasure, for knowing Mrs. Kew was one of the 
 pleasantest things which happened to us in that 
 delightful summer, and she used to do so much 
 for our pleasure, and was so good to us. When 
 we went out to the lighthouse for the last time to 
 say good by, we were very sorry girls indeed. We 
 had no idea until then how much she cared for us, 
 and her affection touched us very much. She 
 told us that she loved us as if we belonged to her, 
 and begged us not to forget her, as if we ever 
 could! and to remember that there was always 
 a home and a warm heart for us if she were alive. 
 Kate and I have often agreed that few of our 
 acquaintances are half so entertaining. Her com- 
 parisons were most striking and amusing, and her
 
 20 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 comments upon the books she read for she was 
 a great reader were very shrewd and clever, 
 and always to the point. She was never out of 
 temper, even when the barrels of oil were being 
 rolled across her kitchen floor. And she was such 
 a wise woman ! This stage-ride, which we expected 
 to find tiresome, we enjoyed very much, and we 
 were glad to think, when the coach stopped, and 
 " he " came to meet her with great satisfaction, 
 that we had one friend in Deephaveu at all events. 
 
 I liked the house from my very first sight of it- 
 It stood behind a row of poplars which were as 
 green and flourishing as the poplars which stand 
 in stately processions in the fields around Quebec. 
 It was an imposing great white house, and the 
 lilacs were tall, and there were crowds of rose- 
 bushes not yet out of bloom ; and there were box 
 borders, and there were great elms at the side of 
 the house and down the road. The hall door 
 stood wide open, and my hostess turned to me as 
 we went in, with one of her sweet, sudden smiles. 
 " Won't we have a good time, Nelly 1 " said she. 
 And I thought we should. 
 
 So our summer's housekeeping began in most 
 pleasant fashion. It was just at sunset, and Ann's 
 and Maggie's presence made the house seem fa-
 
 KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN. 
 
 21 
 
 miliar at once. Maggie had been unpacking for 
 us, and there was a delicious supper ready for the 
 hungry girls. Later in the evening we went down 
 to the shore, which was not very far away; the 
 fresh sea-air was welcome after the dusty day, and 
 it seemed so quiet and pleasant in Deephaven.
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE AND THE LIGHT- 
 HOUSE. 
 
 DO not know that the Brandon house is 
 really very remarkable, but I never have 
 been in one that interested me in the 
 same way. Kate used to recount to select audi- 
 ences at school some of her experiences with her 
 Aunt Katharine, and it was popularly believed 
 that she once carried down some indestructible 
 picture-books when they were first in fashion, and 
 the old lady basted them for her to hem round 
 the edges at the rate of two a day. It may have 
 been fabulous. It was impossible to imagine any 
 children in the old place ; everything was for grown 
 people ; even the stair-railing was too high to slide 
 down on. The chairs looked as if they had been 
 put, at the furnishing of the house, in their places, 
 and there they meant to remain. The carpets were 
 particularly interesting, and I remember Kate's 
 pointing out to me one day a great square figure
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 23 
 
 in one, and telling me she used to keep house there 
 with her dolls for lack of a better play-house, and 
 if one of them chanced to fall outside the boundary 
 stripe, it was immediately put to bed with a cold. 
 It is a house with great possibilities ; it might 
 easily be made charming. There are four very 
 large rooms on the lower floor, and six above, a 
 wide hall in each story, and a fascinating garret 
 over the whole, where were many mysterious old 
 chests and boxes, in one of which we found Kate's 
 grandmother's love-letters ; and you may be sure 
 the vista of rummages which Mr. Lancaster had 
 laughed about was explored to its very end. The 
 rooms all have elaborate cornices, and the lower 
 hall is very fine, with an archway dividing it, and 
 panellings of all sorts, and a great door at each 
 end, through which the lilacs in front and the old 
 pensioner plum-trees in the garden are seen ex- 
 changing bows and gestures. Coming from the 
 Lancasters' high city house, it did not seem as if 
 we had to go up stairs at all there, for every step 
 of the stairway is so broad and low, and you 
 come half-way to a square landing with an old 
 straight-backed chair in each farther corner ; and 
 between them a large, round-topped window, with 
 a cushioned seat, looking out on the garden and
 
 24 DEEPUA YEN. 
 
 the village, the hills far inland, and the sunset 
 beyond all. Then you turn and go up a few more 
 steps to the upper hall, where we used to stay a 
 great deal. There were more old chairs and a pair 
 of remarkable sofas, on which we used to deposit 
 the treasures collected in our wanderings. The 
 wide window which looks out on the lilacs and the 
 sea was a favorite seat of ours. Facing each other 
 on either side of it are tw r o old secretaries, and one 
 of them we ascertained to be the hiding-place of 
 secret drawers, in which may be found valuable 
 records deposited by ourselves one rainy day when 
 we first explored it. We wrote, between us, a 
 tragic "journal" on some yellow old letter-paper 
 we found in the desk. We put it in the most hid- 
 den drawer by itself, and flatter ourselves that it 
 will be regarded with great interest some time or 
 other. Of one of the front rooms, "the best 
 chamber," we stood rather in dread. It is very 
 remarkable that there seem to be no ghost-stories 
 connected with any part of the house, particularly 
 this. We are neither of us nervous ; but there 
 is certainly something dismal about the room. 
 The huge curtained bed and immense easy-chairs, 
 windows, and everything were draped in some old- 
 fashioned kind of white cloth which always seemed
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 25 
 
 to be waving and moving about of itself. The 
 carpet was most singularly colored with dark 
 reds and indescribable grays and browns, and 
 the pattern, after a whole summer's study, could 
 never be followed with one's eye. The paper was 
 captured in a French prize somewhere some time 
 in the last century, and part of the figure was 
 shaggy, and therein little spiders found habitation, 
 and went visiting their acquaintances across the 
 shiny places. The color was an unearthly pink 
 and a forbidding maroon, with dim white spots, 
 which gave it the appearance of having moulded. 
 It made you low-spirited to look long in the 
 mirror ; and the great lounge one could not have 
 cheerful associations with, after hearing that Miss 
 Brandon herself did not like it, having seen so 
 many of her relatives lie there dead. There were 
 fantastic china ornaments from Bible subjects on 
 the mantel, and the only picture was one of the 
 Maid of Orleans tied with an unnecessarily strong 
 rope to a very stout stake. The best parlor we 
 also rarely used, because all the portraits which 
 hung there had for some unaccountable reason 
 taken a violent dislike to us, and followed us sus- 
 piciously with their eyes. The furniture was 
 stately and very uncomfortable, and there was 
 2
 
 26 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 something about the room which suggested an in- 
 visible funeral. 
 
 There is not very much to say about the dining- 
 room. It was not specially interesting, though 
 the sea was in sight from one of the windows. 
 There were some old Dutch pictures on the wall, 
 so dark that one could scarcely make out what 
 they were meant to represent, and one or two 
 engravings. There was a huge sideboard, for 
 which Kate had brought down from Boston Miss 
 Brandon's own silver which had stood there for so 
 many years, and looked so much more at home 
 and in place than any other possibly could have 
 looked, and Kate also found in the closet the three 
 great decanters with silver labels chained round 
 their necks, which had always been the compan- 
 ions of the tea - service in her aunt's lifetime. 
 From the little closets in the sideboard there 
 came a most significant odor of cake and wine 
 whenever one opened the doors. We used Miss 
 Brandon's beautiful old blue India china which 
 she had given to Kate, and which had been care- 
 fully packed all winter. Kate sat at the head and 
 I at the foot of the round table, and I must con- 
 fess that we were apt to have either a feast or a 
 famine, for at first we often forgot to provide our
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 27 
 
 dinners. If this were the case Maggie was sure to 
 serve us with most derisive elegance, and make us 
 wait for as much ceremony as she thought neces- 
 sary for one of Mrs. Lancaster's dinner-parties. 
 
 The west parlor was our favorite room down 
 stairs. It had a great fireplace framed in blue 
 and white Dutch tiles which ingeniously and in- 
 structively represented the careers of the good and 
 the bad man ; the starting-place of each being a 
 very singular cradle in the centre at the top. Tho 
 last two of the series are very high art : a great 
 coffin stands in the foreground of each, and the 
 virtuous man is being led off by two disagreeable- 
 looking angels, while the wicked one is hastening 
 from an indescribable but unpleasant assemblage 
 of claws and horns and eyes which is rapidly 
 advancing from the distance, open-mouthed, and 
 bringing a chain with it. 
 
 There was a large cabinet holding all the small 
 curiosities ant_ knick-knacks there seemed to be no 
 other place for, odd china figures and cups and 
 vases, unaccountable Chinese carvings and ex- 
 quisite corals and sea-shells, minerals and Swiss 
 wood-work, and articles of vertu from the South 
 Seas. Underneath were stored boxes of letters 
 and old magazines : for this was one of the houses
 
 28 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 where nothing seems to have been thrown away. 
 In one parting we found a parcel of old manuscript 
 sermons, the existence of which was a mystery, 
 until Kate remembered there had been a gifted 
 son of the house who entered the ministry and 
 soon died. The windows had each a pane of 
 stained glass, and on the wide sills we used to put 
 our immense bouquets of field-flowers. There was 
 one place which I liked and sat in more than any 
 other. The chimney filled nearly the whole side 
 of the room, all but this little corner, where there 
 was just room for a very comfortable high-backed 
 cushioned chair, and a narrow window where I 
 always had a bunch of fresh green ferns in a tall 
 champagne-glass. I used to write there often, and 
 always sat there when Kate sang and played. She 
 sent for a tuner, and used to successfully coax the 
 long-imprisoned music from the antiquated piano, 
 and sing for her visitors by the hour. She almost 
 always sang her oldest songs, for they seemed most 
 in keeping with everything about us. I used to 
 fancy that the portraits liked our being there. 
 There was one young girl who seemed solitary 
 and forlorn among the rest in the room, who were 
 all middle-aged. For their part they looked amia- 
 ble, but rather unhappy, as if she had come in
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 29 
 
 and interrupted their conversation. We both grew 
 very fond of her, and it seemed, when we went in 
 the last morning on purpose to take leave of her, 
 as if she looked at us imploringly. She was soon 
 afterward boxed up, and now enjoys society after 
 her own heart in Kate's room in Boston. 
 
 There was the largest sofa I ever saw opposite 
 the fireplace ; it must have been brought in in 
 pieces, and built in the room. It was broad 
 enough for Kate and me to lie on together, and 
 very high and square ; but there^'was a pile of soft 
 cushions at one end. We used to enjoy it greatly 
 in September, when the evenings were long and 
 cool, and we had many candles, and a fire and 
 crickets too on the hearth, and the dear dog 
 lying on the rug. I remember one rainy night, 
 just before Miss Tennant and Kitty Bruce went 
 away ; we had a real drift-wood fire, and blew out 
 the lights and told stories. Miss Margaret knows 
 so many and tells them so well. Kate and I were 
 unusually entertaining, for we became familiar 
 with the family record of the town, and could re- 
 count marvellous adventures by land and sea, and 
 ghost-stories by the dozen. We had never either 
 of us been in a society consisting of so many trav- 
 elled people ! Hardly a man but had been the
 
 30 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 most of his life at sea. Speaking of ghost-stories, 
 I must tell you that once in the summer two Cam- 
 bridge girls who were spending a week with us un- 
 wisely enticed us into giving some thrilling recitals, 
 which nearly frightened them out of their wits, 
 and Kate and I were finally in terror ourselves. 
 We had all been on the sofa in the dark, singing 
 and talking, and were waiting in great suspense 
 after I had finished one of such particular horror 
 that I declared it should be the last, when we 
 heard footsteps on the hall stairs. There were 
 lights in the dining-room which shone faintly 
 through the half-closed door, and we saw some- 
 thing white and shapeless come slowly down, and 
 clutched each other's gowns in agony. It was only 
 Kate's dog, who came in and laid his head in her 
 lap and slept peacefully. We thought we could 
 not sleep a wink after this, and I ^bravely went 
 alone out to the light to see my watch, and, find- 
 ing it was past twelve, we concluded to sit up all 
 night and to go down to the shore at sunrise, it 
 would be so much easier than getting up early 
 some morning. We had been out rowing and had 
 taken a long walk the day before, and were obliged 
 to dance and make other slight exertions to keep 
 ourselves awake at one time. We lunched at two,
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 31 
 
 and I never shall forget the sunrise that morning ; 
 but we were singularly quiet and abstracted that 
 day, and indeed for several days after Deephaven 
 was "a land in which it seemed always afternoon," 
 we breakfasted so late. 
 
 As Mrs. Kevv had said, there was " a power of 
 china." Kate and I were convinced that the 
 lives of her grandmothers must have been spent 
 in giving tea-parties. We counted ten sets of 
 cups, beside quantities of stray ones ; and some 
 member of the family had evidently devoted her 
 time to making a collection of pitchers. 
 
 There was an escritoire in Miss Brandon's own 
 room, which we looked over one day. There was 
 a little package of letters ; ship letters mostly, 
 tied with a very pale and tired-looking blue rib- 
 bon. They were in a drawer with a locket hold- 
 ing a faded miniature on ivory and a lock of brown 
 hair, and the^e were also some dry twigs and bits 
 of leaf which had long ago been bright wild- 
 roses, such as still bloom among the Deephaven 
 rocks. Kate said that she had often heard her 
 mother wonder why her aunt never had cared to 
 marry, for she had chances enough doubtless, and 
 had been rich and handsome and finely educated. 
 So there was a sailor lover after all, and perhaps
 
 32 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 he had been lost at sea and she faithfully kept the 
 secret, never mourning outwardly. " And I always 
 thought her the most matter-of-fact old lady," said 
 Kate; "yet here's her romance, after all." We 
 put the letters outside on a chair to read, but 
 afterwards carefully replaced them, without unty- 
 ing them. I 'm glad we did. There were other 
 letters which we did read, and which interested us 
 very much, letters from her girl friends written 
 in the boarding-school vacations, and just after 
 she finished school. Those in one of the smaller 
 packages w r ere charming ; it must have been such 
 a bright, nice girl who wrote them ! They were 
 very few, and were tied with black ribbon, and 
 marked on the outside in girlish writing : " My 
 dearest friend, Dolly McAllister, died September 
 3, 1809, aged eighteen." The ribbon had evi- 
 dently been untied and the letters read many 
 times. One began : " My dear, delightful Kitten : 
 I am quite overjoyed to find my father has busi- 
 ness which will force him to go to Deephaven next 
 week, and he kindly says if there be no more rain 
 I may ride with him to see you. I will surely 
 come, for if there is danger of spattering my gown, 
 and he bids me stay at home, I shall go galloping 
 after him and overtake him when it is too late to
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 33 
 
 send me back. I have so much to tell you." I 
 wish I knew more about the visit. Poor Miss 
 Katharine ! it made us sad to look over these 
 treasures of her girlhood. There were her com- 
 positions and exercise- books ; some samplers and 
 queer little keepsakes ; withered flowers and some 
 pebbles and other things of like value, with which 
 there was probably some pleasant association. 
 " Only think of her keeping them all her days," 
 said I to Kate. "I am continually throwing some 
 relic of the kind away, because I forget why I 
 have it ! " 
 
 There was a box in the lower part which Kate 
 was glad to find, for she had heard her mother 
 wonder if some such things were not in existence. 
 It held a crucifix and a mass-book and some rosaries, 
 and Kate told me Miss Katharine's youngest and 
 favorite brother had become a Roman Catholic 
 while studying in Europe. It was a dreadful 
 blow to the family ; for in those days there could 
 have been few deeper disgraces to the Brandon 
 family than to have one of its sons go over to 
 popery. Only Miss Katharine treated him with 
 kindness, and after a time he disappeared without 
 telling even her where he was going, and was only 
 heard from indirectly once or twice afterward. It 
 2* c
 
 34 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 was a great grief to her. " And mamma knows," 
 said Kate, " that she always had a lingering hope 
 of his return, for one of the last times she saw 
 Aunt Katharine before she was ill she spoke of 
 soon going to be with all the rest, and said, 
 'Though your Uncle Henry, dear/ and stopped 
 and smiled sadly ; ' you '11 think me a very foolish 
 old woman, but I never quite gave up thinking he 
 might come home.' " 
 
 Mrs. Kew did the honors of the lighthouse 
 thoroughly on our first visit ; but I think we 
 rarely went to see her that we did not make some 
 entertaining discovery. Mr. Kew's nephew, a 
 guileless youth of forty, lived with them, and the 
 two men were of a mechanical turn and had in- 
 vented numerous aids to housekeeping, appen- 
 dages to the stove, and fixtures on, the walls for 
 everything that could be hung up ; catches in the 
 floor to hold the doors open, and ingenious appa- 
 ratus to close them ; but, above all, a system of 
 barring and bolting for the wide " fore door," 
 which would have disconcerted an energetic bat- 
 tering-ram. After all this work being expended, 
 Mrs. Kew informed us that it was usually wide 
 open all night in summer weather. On the back
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 35 
 
 of this door I discovered one day a row of marks, 
 and asked their significance. It seemed that Mrs. 
 Kew had attempted one summer to keep count of 
 the number of people who inquired about the dep- 
 redations of the neighbors' chickens. Mrs. Kew's 
 bedroom was partly devoted to the fine arts. 
 There was a large collection of likenesses of her 
 relatives and friends on the wall, which was inter- 
 esting in the extreme. Mrs. Kew was always 
 much pleased to tell their names, and her remarks 
 about any feature not exactly perfect were very 
 searching and critical. " That 's my oldest broth- 
 er's wife, Clorinthy Adams that was. She 's well 
 featured, if it were not for her nose, and that 
 looks as if it had been thrown at her, and she 
 was n't particular about having it on firm, in 
 hopes of getting a better one. She sets by her 
 looks, though." 
 
 There were often sailing-parties that came there 
 from up and down the coast. One day Kate and I 
 were spending the afternoon at the Light ; we had 
 been fishing, and were sitting in the doorway lis- 
 tening to a reminiscence of the winter Mrs. Kew 
 kept school at the Four Corners ; saw a boatful 
 coming, and all lost our tempers. Mrs. Kew had 
 a lame ankle, and Kate offei-ed to go up with the
 
 36 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 visitors. There were some girls and young men 
 who stood on the rocks awhile, and then asked 
 iis, with much better manners than the people 
 who usually came, if they could see the light- 
 house, and Kate led the way. She was dressed 
 that day in a costume we both frequently wore, 
 of gray skirts and blue sailor-jacket, and her 
 boots were much the worse for wear. The cele- 
 brated Lancaster complexion was rather darkened 
 by the sun. Mrs. Kew expressed a wish to know 
 what questions they would ask her, and I followed 
 after a few minutes. They seemed to have fin- 
 ished asking about the lantern, and to have be- 
 come personal. 
 
 " Don't you get tired staying here ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ! " said Kate. 
 
 " Is that your sister down stairs 1 " 
 
 " No, I have no sister." 
 
 " I should think you would wish she was. 
 Are n't you ever lonesome 1 " 
 
 " Everybody is, sometimes," said Kate. 
 
 " But it 's such a lonesome place ! " said one of 
 the girls. " I should think you would get work 
 away. I live in Boston. Why, it 's so awful 
 quiet ! nothing but the water, and the wind, when 
 it blows ; and I think either of them is worse
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 37 
 
 than nothing. And only this little bit of a rocky 
 place ! I should want to go to walk." 
 
 I heard Kate pleasantly refuse the offer of pay 
 for her services, and then they began to come 
 down the steep stairs laughing and chattering 
 with each other. Kate stayed behind to close 
 the doors and leave everything all right, and the 
 girl who had talked the most waited too, and 
 when they were on the stairs just above rne, and 
 the others out of hearing, she said, " You 're real 
 good to show us the things. I guess you '11 think 
 I 'in silly, but I do like you ever so much ! I 
 wish you would come to Boston. I 'm in a real 
 
 nice store, H 's, on Winter Street ; and 
 
 they will want new saleswomen in October. Per- 
 haps you could be at my counter. I 'd teach you, 
 and you could board with me. I 've got a real 
 comfortable room, and I suppose I might have 
 more things, for I get good pay ; but 1 like to 
 send money home to mother. I 'm at my aunt's 
 now, but I am going back next Monday, and if 
 you will tell me what your name is, I '11 find out 
 for certain about the place, and write you. My 
 name 's Mary Wendell." 
 
 I knew by Kate's voice that this had touched 
 her. " You are very kind ; thank you heartily,"
 
 38 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 said she ; " but I cannot go and work with you. 
 I should like to know more about you. I live in 
 Boston too ; ray friend and I are staying over in 
 Deephaven for the summer only." And she held 
 out her hand to the girl, whose face had changed 
 from its first expression of earnest good-humor to 
 a very startled one ; and when she noticed Kate's 
 hand, and a ring of hers, which had been turned 
 round, she looked really frightened. 
 
 " 0, will you please excuse me ? " said she, 
 blushing. " I ought to have known better ; but 
 you showed us round so willing, and I never 
 thought of your not living here. I did n't mean 
 to be rude." 
 
 " Of course you did not, and you were not. I 
 am very glad you said it, and glad you like me," 
 said Kate ; and just then the party called the girl, 
 and she hurried away, and I joined Kate. " Then 
 you heard it all. That was worth having ! " 
 said she. "She was such an honest little soul, 
 and I mean to look for her when I get home." 
 
 Sometimes we used to go out to the Light early 
 in the morning with the fishermen who went that 
 way to the fishing-grounds, but we usually made 
 the voyage early in the afternoon if it were not 
 too hot, and we went fishing off the rocks or sat
 
 THE BRANDON HOUSE. 39 
 
 in the house with Mrs. Kew, who often related 
 some of her Vermont experiences, or Mr. Kew 
 would tell us surprising sea-stories and ghost-sto- 
 ries like a story-book sailor. Then we would have 
 an unreasonably good supper and afterward climb 
 the ladder to the lantern to see the lamps lighted, 
 and sit there for a while watching the ships and 
 the sunset. Almost all the coasters came in sight 
 of Deephaven, and the sea outside the light was 
 their grand highway. Twice from the lighthouse 
 we saw a yacht squadron like a flock of great 
 white birds. As for the sunsets, it used to seem 
 often as if we were near the heart of them, for the 
 sea all around us caught the color of the clouds, 
 and though the glory was wonderful, I remember 
 best one still evening when there was a bank of 
 heavy gray clouds in the west shutting down like 
 a curtain, and the sea was silver-colored. You 
 could look under and beyond the curtain of clouds 
 into the palest, clearest yellow sky. There was a 
 little black boat in the distance drifting slowly, 
 climbing one white wave after another, as if it 
 were bound out into that other world beyond. 
 But presently the sun came from behind the 
 clouds, and the dazzling golden light changed the 
 look of everything, and it was the time then to
 
 40 DEEPHA VEN. 
 
 say one thought it a beautiful sunset ; while be- 
 fore one eould only keep very still, and watch the 
 boat, and wonder if heaven would not be somehow 
 like that far, faint color, which was neither sea 
 nor sky. 
 
 When we came down from the lighthouse and 
 it grew late, we would beg for an hour or two 
 longer on the water, and row away in the twilight 
 far out from land, where, with our faces turned 
 from the Light, it seemed as if we were alone, and 
 the sea shoreless ; and as the darkness closed 
 round us softly, we watched the stars come out, 
 and were always glad to see Kate's star and my 
 star, which we had chosen when we were children. 
 1 used long ago to be sure of one thing, that, 
 however far away heaven might be, it could not 
 be out of sight of the stars. Sometimes in the even- 
 ing we waited out at sea for the , moonrise, and 
 then we would take the oars again and go slowly 
 in, once in a while singing or talking, but oftenest 
 silent.
 
 MY LADY BRANDON AND THE WIDOW 
 JIM. 
 
 HEN it was known that we had arrived 
 in Deephaven, the people who had known 
 Miss Brandon so well, and Mrs. Lancaster 
 also, seemed to consider themselves Kate's friends 
 by inheritance, and were exceedingly polite to us, 
 in either calling upon us or sending pleasant mes- 
 sages. Before the first week had ended we had 
 no lack of society. They were not strangers to 
 Kate, to begin with, and as for me, I think it is 
 easy for me to be contented, and to feel at home 
 anywhere. I have the good fortune and the mis- 
 fortune to belong to the navy, that is, my father 
 does, and my life has been consequently an un- 
 settled one, except during the years of my school 
 life, when my friendship with Kate began. 
 
 I think I should be happy in any town if I 
 were living there with Kate Lancaster. I will 
 not praise my friend as I can praise her, or say
 
 42 DEEPHA VEX. 
 
 half the things I might say honestly. She is so 
 fresh and good and true, and enjoys life so heartily. 
 She is so childlike, without being childish ; and I 
 do not tell you that she is faultless, but when she 
 makes mistakes she is sorrier and more ready to 
 hopefully try again than any girl I know. Per- 
 haps you would like to know something about us, 
 but I am not writing Kate's biography and my own, 
 only telling you of one summer which we spent 
 together. Sometimes in Deephaven we were be- 
 tween six and seven years old, but at other times 
 we have felt irreparably grown-up, and as if we 
 carried a crushing weight of care and duty. In 
 reality we are both twenty -four, and it is a pleas- 
 ant age, though I think next year is sure to be 
 pleasanter, for we do not mind growing older, 
 since w r e have lost nothing that we mourn about, 
 and are gaining so much. I shall be glad if you 
 learn to know Kate a little in my stories. It is 
 not that I am fond of her and endow her with 
 imagined virtues and graces ; no one can fail to 
 see how unaffected she is, or not notice her 
 thoughtfulness and generosity and her delightful 
 fun, which never has a trace of coarseness or silli- 
 ness. It was very pleasant having her for one's 
 companion, for she has an unusual power of win-
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 43 
 
 ning people's confidence, and of knowing with 
 surest instinct how to meet them on their own 
 ground. It is the girl's being so genuinely sym- 
 pathetic and interested which makes every one 
 ready to talk to her and be friends with her ; just 
 as the sunshine makes it easy for flowers to grow 
 which the chilly winds hinder. She is not polite 
 for the sake of seeming polite, but polite for the 
 sake of being kind, and there is not a particle of 
 what Hugh Miller justly calls the insolence of 
 condescension about her ; she is not brilliantly 
 talented, yet she does everything in a charming 
 fashion of her own ; she is not profoundly learned, 
 yet she knows much of which many wise people 
 are ignorant, and while she is a patient scholar in 
 both little things and great, she is no less a teacher 
 to all her friends, dear Kate Lancaster ! 
 
 We knew that we were considered Miss Bran- 
 don's representatives in Deephaven society, and 
 this was no slight responsibility, as she had re- 
 ceived much honor and respect. We heard again 
 and again what a loss she had been to the town, 
 and we tried that summer to do nothing to lessen 
 the family reputation, and to give pleasure as well 
 as take it, though we were singularly persistent in 
 our pursuit of a good time. I grew much inter-
 
 44 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 ested in what I heard of Miss Brandon, and it 
 seems to me that it is a great privilege to have an 
 elderly person in one's neighborhood, in town or 
 country, who is proud, and conservative, and who 
 lives in stately fashion ; who is intolerant of sham 
 and of useless novelties, and clings to the old ways 
 of living and behaving as if it were part of her 
 religion. There is something immensely respect- 
 able about the gentlewomen of the old school. 
 They ignore all bustle and flashiness, and the 
 conceit of the younger people, who act as if at last 
 it had been time for them to appear and manage 
 this world as it ought to have been managed 
 before. Their position in modern society is much 
 like that of the King's Chapel in its busy street 
 in Boston. It perhaps might not have been easy 
 to approach Miss Brandon, but I am sure that if 
 I had visited in Deephaven during her lifetime I 
 should have been very proud if I had been asked 
 to take tea at her house, and should have liked to 
 speak afterward of my acquaintance with hqr. It 
 would have been impossible not to pay her great 
 deference ; it is a pleasure to think that she must 
 have found this world a most polite world, and 
 have had the highest opinion of its good manners. 
 Noblesse oblige : that is true in more ways than
 
 MT LADY BRANDON. 45 
 
 I cannot help wondering if those of us who will 
 be left by and by to represent our own generation 
 will seem to have such superior elegance of behav- 
 ior ; if we shall receive so much respect and be so 
 much valued. It is hard to imagine it. We know 
 that the world gains new refinements and a better 
 culture ; but to us there never will be such im- 
 posing ladies and gentlemen as these who belong 
 to the old school. 
 
 The morning after we reached Deephaven we 
 were busy up stairs, and there was a determined 
 blow at the knocker of the front door. I went 
 down to see who was there, and had the pleasure 
 of receiving our first caller. She was a prim little 
 old woman who looked pleased and expectant, 
 who wore a neat cap and front, and whose eyes 
 were as bright as black beads. She wore no bon- 
 net, and had thrown a little three-cornered shawl, 
 with palm-leaf figures, over her shoulders ; and it 
 was evident that she was a near neighbor. She 
 was very short and straight and thin, and so quick 
 that she darted like a pickerel when she moved 
 about. It occurred to me at once that she was a 
 very capable person, and had " faculty," and, dear 
 me, how fast she talked ! She hesitated a moment 
 when she saw me, and dropped a fragment of a
 
 46 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 courtesy. "Miss Lan'k'ster % " said she, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " No," said I, " I 'm Miss Denis : Miss Lancas- 
 ter is at home, though : come in, won't you r \ " 
 
 " Mrs. Putton ! " said Kate, who came down 
 just then. " How very kind of you to come over 
 so soon ! I should have gone to see you to-day. 
 I was asking Mrs. Kew last night if you were here." 
 
 " Land o' compassion ! " said Mrs. Patton, as she 
 shook Kate's hand delightedly. " Where 'd ye 
 s'pose I 'd be, dear ? I ain't like to move away 
 from Deephaven now, after I 've held by the place 
 so long, I 've got as many roots as the big ellum. 
 Well, I should know you were a Brandon, no 
 matter where I see you. You 've got a real Bran- 
 don look ; tall and straight, ain't you ] It 's four 
 or five years since I saw you, except once at church, 
 and once you went by, down to the shore, I sup- 
 pose. It was a windy day in the spring of the year." 
 
 " I remember it very well," said Kate. " Those 
 were both visits of only a day or two, and I 
 was here at Aunt Katharine's funeral, and went 
 away that same evening. Do you remember once 
 I was here in the summer for a longer visit, five or 
 six years ago, and I helped you pick currants in 
 the garden ] You had a very old mug."
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 47 
 
 " Now, whoever would ha' thought o' your rec'- 
 lecting that *? " said Mrs. Patton. " Yes. I had 
 that mug because it was handy to carry about 
 among the bushes, and then I 'd empt' it into the 
 basket as fast as I got it full. Your aunt always 
 told me to pick all I wanted ; she could n't use 'ern, 
 but they used to make sights o' currant wine in 
 old times. I s'pose that mug would be consider- 
 able of a curiosity to anybody that was n't used 
 to seeing it round. My grand'ther Joseph Togger- 
 son my mother was a Toggerson picked it up 
 on the long sands in a wad of sea-weed : strange it 
 was n't broke, but it 's tough ; I 've dropped it on 
 the floor, many 's the time, and it ain't even chipped. 
 There 's some Dutch reading on it and it 's marked 
 1732. Now I should n't ha' thought you 'd re- 
 membered that old mug, I declare. Your aunt 
 she had a monstrous sight of chiny. She 's told 
 me where 'most all of it come from, but I expect 
 I 've forgot. My memory fails me a good deal by 
 spells. If you had n't come down I suppose your 
 mother would have had the chiny packed up this 
 spring, what she did n't take with her after your 
 aunt died. S'pose she has n't made up her mind 
 what to do with the house 1 " 
 
 " No," said Kate ; " she wishes she could : it is a 
 great puzzle to us."
 
 48 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 "I hope you will find it in middling order," said 
 Mrs. Pattern, humbly. " Me and Mis' Dockum 
 have done the best we knew, opened the win- 
 dows and let in the air and tried to keep it from 
 getting damp. I fixed all the woollens with fresh 
 camphire and tobacco the last o' the winter ; you 
 have to be dreadful careful in one o' these old 
 houses, 'less everything gets creaking with moths 
 in no time. Miss Katharine, how she did hate 
 the sight of a moth-miller ! There 's something 
 I '11 speak about before I forget it : the mice have 
 eat the backs of a pile o' old books that 's stored 
 away in the west chamber closet next to Miss 
 Katharine's room, and I set a trap there, but it 
 was older 'n the ten commandments, that trap 
 was, and the spring 's rusty. I guess you 'd 
 better get some new ones and set round in differ- 
 ent places, 'less the mice '11 pester you. There 
 ain't been no chance for 'em to get much of a 
 living 'long through the winter, but they '11 be 
 sure to come back quick as they find there 's 
 likely to be good board. I see your aunt's cat 
 setting out on the front steps. She never was no 
 great of a mouser, but it went to my heart to sec 
 how pleased she looks ! Come right back, did n't 
 she 1 How they do hold to their old haunts ! "
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 49 
 
 " Was that Miss Brandon's cat 1 " I asked, with 
 great interest. " She has been up stairs with us, 
 but I supposed she belonged to some neighbor, 
 and had strayed in. She behaved as if she felt at 
 home, poor old pussy ! " 
 
 " We must keep her here," said Kate. 
 
 " Mis' Dockum took her after your mother went 
 off, and Miss Katharine's maids," said Mrs. Patton ; 
 " but she told me that it was a long spell before 
 she seemed to feel contented. She used to set on 
 the steps and cry by the hour together, and try to 
 get in, to first one door and then another. I used 
 to think how bad Miss Katharine would feel ; she set 
 a great deal by a cat, and she took notice of this 
 as long as she did of anything. Her mind failed 
 her, you know. Great loss to Deephaven, she was. 
 Proud woman, and some folks were scared of her ; 
 but I always got along with her, and I would n't 
 ask for no kinder friend nor neighbor. I 've had 
 my troubles, and I 've seen the day I was suffer- 
 ing poor, and I could n't have brought myself to 
 ask town help nohow, but I wish ye 'd ha' beared 
 her scold me when she found it out ; and she come 
 marching into my kitchen one morning, like a 
 grenadier, and says she, ' Why did n't you send 
 and tell me how sick and poor you are 1 ' says she. 
 3 D
 
 60 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 And she said she 'd ha' been so glad to help me all 
 along, but she thought I had means, even-body 
 did ; and I see the tears in her eves, but she was 
 scolding me and speaking as if she was dreadful 
 mad. She made me comfortable, and she sent 
 over one o' her maids to see to me, and got the 
 doctor, and a load o' stuft' come up from the store, 
 so I did n't have to buy anything for a good many 
 weeks. I got better and so 's to work, but she 
 never 'd let me say nothing about it. I had a 
 good deal o' trouble, and I thought I 'd lost my 
 health, but I had n't, and that was thirty or forty 
 years ago. There never was nothing going on at 
 the great house that she did n't have me over, 
 sewing or cleaning or company ; and I got so that 
 I knew how she liked to have things done. I felt 
 as if it was my own sister, though I never had one, 
 when I was going over to help lay ker out. She 
 used to talk as free to me as she would to Miss 
 Lorimer or Miss Carew. I s'pose ye ain't seen 
 nothing o' them yet 1 She was a good Christian 
 woman, Miss Katharine was. "The memory of 
 the just is blessed " ; that 's what Mr. Lorimer said 
 in his sermon the Sunday after she died, and there 
 was n't a blood-relation there to hear it. I de- 
 clare it looked pitiful to see that pew empty that
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 51 
 
 ought to ha' been the mourners' pew. Your mother, 
 Mis' Lancaster, had to go home Saturday, your 
 father was going away sudden to Washington, I 've 
 understood, and she come back again the first of 
 the week. There ! it did n't make no sort o' 
 difference, p'r'aps nobody thought of it but me. 
 There had n't been anybody in the pew more than 
 a couple o' times since she used to sit there her- 
 self, regular as Sunday come." And Mrs. Patton 
 looked for a minute as if she were going to cry, 
 but she changed her mind upon second thought. 
 
 " Your mother gave me most of Miss Katha- 
 rine's clothes ; this cap belonged to her, that I 've 
 got on now ; it 's 'most wore out, but it does for 
 mornings." 
 
 " 0," said Kate, " I have two new ones for you 
 in one of my trunks ! Mamma meant to choose 
 them herself, but she had not time, and so she 
 told me, and I think I found the kind she thought 
 you would like." 
 
 "Now I 'm sure ! " said Mrs. Patton, "if that 
 ain't kind ; you don't tell me that Mis' Lancaster 
 thought of me just as she was going off? I shall 
 set everything by them caps, and I 'm much 
 obliged to you too, Miss Kate. I was just going 
 to speak of that time you were here and saw the
 
 52 DEEP HA VEX. 
 
 mug ; you trimmed a cap for Miss Katharine to 
 give me, real Boston style. I guess that box of 
 cap-fixings is up on the top shelf of Miss Katha- 
 rine's closet now, to the left hand," said Mrs. Pat- 
 ton, with wistful certainty. " She used to make her 
 every-day caps herself, and she had some beautiful 
 materials laid away that she never used. Some 
 folks has laughed at me for being so particular 
 'bout wearing caps except for best, but I don't 
 know 's it 's presuming beyond my station, and 
 somehow I feel more respect for myself when I 
 have a good cap on. I can't get over your moth- 
 er's rec'lecting about me ; and she sent me a hand- 
 some present o' money this spring for looking after 
 the house. I never should have asked for a cent ; 
 it 's a pleasure to me to keep an eye on it, out 
 o' respect to your aunt. I was so pleased when 
 I heard you were coming long o' your friend. I 
 like to see the old place open ; it was about as bad 
 as having no meeting. I miss seeing the lights, 
 and your aunt was a great hand for lighting up 
 bright ; the big hall lantern was lit every night, 
 and she put it out when she went up stairs. She 
 liked to go round same 's if it was day. You see 
 I forget all the time she was sick, and go back to 
 the days when she was well and about the house.
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 53 
 
 When her mind was failing her, and she was up 
 stairs in her room, her eyesight seemed to be lost 
 part, of the time, and sometimes she 'd tell us to 
 get the lamp and a couple o' candles in the mid- 
 dle o' the day, and then she 'd be as satisfied I 
 But she used to take a notion to set in the 
 dark, some nights, and think, I s'pose. I should 
 have forty fits, if I undertook it. That was a good 
 while ago ; and do you rec'lect how she used to 
 play the piano ] She used to be a great hand to 
 play when she was young." 
 
 " Indeed T remember it," said Kate, who told 
 me afterward how her aunt used to sit at the 
 piano in the twilight and play to herself. " She 
 was formerly a skilful musician," said my friend, 
 " though one would not have imagined she cared 
 for music. When I was a child she used to play 
 in company of an evening, and once when I was 
 here one of her old friends asked for a tune, and 
 she laughingly said that her day was over and her 
 fingers were stiff; though I believe she might have 
 played as well as ever then, if she had cared to 
 try. But once in a while when she had been quiet 
 all day and rather sad I am ashamed that I used 
 to think she was cross she would open the piano 
 and sit there until late, while I used to be en-
 
 54 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 chanted by her memories of dancing-tunes, and 
 old psalms, and marches and songs. There was 
 one tune which I am sure had a history : there 
 was a sweet wild cadence in it, and she would 
 come back to it again and again, always going 
 through with it in the same measured way. I 
 have remembered so many things about my aunt 
 since I have been here," said Kate, " which I 
 hardly noticed and did not understand when they 
 happened. I was afraid of her when I was a little 
 girl, but I think if I had grown up sooner, I 
 should have enjoyed her heartily. It never used 
 to occur to me that she had a spark of tenderness 
 or of sentiment, until just before she was ill, but I 
 have been growing more fond of her ever since. 
 I might have given her a great deal more pleas- 
 ure. It was not long after I was through school 
 that she became so feeble, and of course she liked 
 best having mamma come to see her ; one of us 
 had to be at home. I have thought lately how 
 careful one ought to be, to be kind and thoughtful 
 to one's old friends. It is so soon too late to be 
 good to them, and then one is always so sorry." 
 
 I must tell you more of Mrs. Patton ; of course 
 it was not long before we returned her call, and 
 we w r ere much entertained ; we always liked to see
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 55 
 
 our friends in their own houses. Her house was 
 a little way down the road, unpainted and gam- 
 brel-roofed, but so low that the old lilac-bushes 
 which clustered round it were as tall as the eaves. 
 The Widow Jim (as nearly every one called her in 
 distinction to the widow Jack Patton, who was a 
 tailoress and lived at the other end of the town) 
 was a very useful person. I suppose there must 
 be her counterpart in all old New England vil- 
 lages. She sewed, and she made elaborate rugs, 
 and she had a decided talent for making carpets, 
 if there were one to be made, which must have 
 happened seldom. But there were a great many 
 to be turned and made over in Deephaven, and 
 she went to the Carews' and Lorimers' at house- 
 cleaning time or in seasons of great festivity. She 
 had no equal in sickness, and knew how to brew 
 every old-fashioned dose and to make every variety 
 of herb-tea, and when her nursing was put to an 
 end by her patient's death, she was commander- 
 in-chief at the funeral, and stood near the door- 
 way to direct the mourning friends to their seats ; 
 and I have no reason to doubt that she sometimes 
 even had the immense responsibility of making out 
 the order of the procession, since she had all gen- 
 ealogy and relationship at her tongue's end. It
 
 56 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 was an awful thing in Deephavcn, we found, if the 
 precedence was wrongly assigned, and once we 
 chanced to hear some bitter remarks because the 
 cousins of the departed wife had been placed 
 after the husband's relatives, " the blood-rela- 
 tions ridin' behind them that was only kin by 
 marriage ! I don't wonder they felt hurt ! " said 
 the person who spoke ; a most unselfish and un- 
 assuming soul, ordinarily. 
 
 Mrs. Patton knew everybody's secrets, but she 
 told them judiciously if at all. She chattered all 
 day to you as a sparrow twitters, and you did not 
 tire of her; and Kate and I were never more agree- 
 ably entertained than when she told us of old times 
 and of Kate's ancestors and their contemporaries ; 
 for her memory was wonderful, and she had either 
 seen everything that had happened in Deephaven 
 for a long time, or had received the particulars 
 from reliable witnesses. She had known much 
 trouble ; her husband had been but small satis- 
 faction to her, and it was not to be wondered at if 
 she looked upon all proposed marriages with com- 
 passion. She was always early at church, and she 
 wore the same bonnet that she had when Kate 
 was a child ; it was such a well-preserved, proper 
 black straw bonnet, with discreet bows of ribbon,
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 57 
 
 and a useful lace veil to protect it from the 
 weather. 
 
 She showed us into the best room the first time 
 we went to see her. It was the plainest little 
 room, and very dull, and there was an exact suf- 
 ficiency about its furnishings. Yet there was a 
 certain dignity about it ; it was unmistakably a 
 best room, and not a place where one might make 
 a litter or carry one's every-day work. You felt 
 at once that somebody valued the prim old-fash- 
 ioned chairs, and the two half-moon tables, and 
 the thin carpet, which must have needed anxious 
 stretching every spring to make it come to the edge 
 of the floor. There were some mourning-pieces 
 by way of decoration, inscribed with the names 
 of Mrs. Patton's departed friends, two worked in 
 crewel to the memory of her father and mother, 
 and two paper memorials, with the woman weeping 
 under the willow at the side of a monument. They 
 were all brown with age ; and there was a sampler 
 beside, worked by " Judith Beckett, aged ten," and 
 all five were framed in slender black frames and 
 hung very high on the walls. There was a rocking- 
 chair which looked as if it felt too grand for use, 
 and considered itself imposing. It tilted far back 
 on its rockers, and was bent forward at the top to 
 3*
 
 58 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 make one's head uncomfortable. It need not have 
 troubled itself; nobody would ever wish to sit 
 there. It was such a big rocking-chair, and Mrs. 
 Patton was proud of it ; always generously urging 
 her guests to enjoy its comfort, which w r as imagi- 
 nary with her, as she was so short that she could 
 hardly have climbed into it without assistance. 
 
 Mrs. Patton was a little ceremonious at first, but 
 soon recovered herself and told us a great deal 
 which we were glad to hear. I asked her once if 
 she had not always lived at Deephaven. " Here 
 and beyond East Parish," said she. " Mr. Patton, 
 that was my husband, he owned a good farm 
 there when I married him, but I come back here 
 again after he died ; place was all mortgaged. I 
 never got a cent, and I was poorer than when I 
 started. I worked harder 'n ever I did before or 
 since to keep things together, but 't was n't any 
 kind o' use. Your mother knows all about it, Miss 
 Kate," as if we might not be willing to believe it 
 on her authority. " I come back here a widow and 
 destitute, and I tell you the world looked fair to 
 me when I left this house first to go over there. 
 Don't you run no risks, you 're better off as you 
 be, clears. But land sakes alive, ' he ' did n't mean 
 no hurt ! and he set everything by me when he
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 59 
 
 was himself. I don't make no scruples of speaking 
 about it, everybody knows how it was, but I did 
 go through with everything. I never knew what 
 the day would bring forth," said the widow, as if 
 this were the first time she had had a chance to 
 tell her sorrows to a sympathizing audience. She 
 did not seem to mind talking about the troubles 
 of her married life any more than a soldier minds 
 telling the story of his campaigns, and dwells with 
 pride on the worst battle of all. 
 
 Her favorite subject always was Miss Brandon, 
 and after a pause she said that she hoped we were 
 finding everything right in the house ; she had 
 meant to take up the carpet in the best spare 
 room, but it did n't seem to need it ; it was taken 
 up the year before, and the room had not been 
 used since, there was not a mite of dust under it 
 last time. And Kate assured her, with an appear- 
 ance of great wisdom, that she did not think it 
 could be necessary at all. 
 
 " I come home and had a good cry yesterday 
 after I was over to see you," said Mrs. Patton, 
 and I could not help wondering if she really could 
 cry, for she looked so perfectly dried up, so dry 
 that she might rustle in the Avind. " Your aunt 
 had been failin' so long that just after she died it
 
 60 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 was a relief, but I 've got so 's to forget all about 
 that, aud I miss her as she used to be ; it seemed 
 as if you had stepped into her place, and you look 
 some as she used to when she was young." 
 
 " You must miss her," said Kate, " and I know 
 how much she used to depend upon you. You 
 were very kind to her." 
 
 " I sat up with her the night she died," said the 
 widow, with mournful satisfaction. " I have lived 
 neighbor to her all my life except the thirteen 
 years I was married, and there was n't a week I 
 was n't over to the great house except I was off to 
 a distance taking care of the sick. When she got 
 to be feeble she always wanted me to 'tend to the 
 cleaning and to see to putting the canopies and 
 curtains on the bedsteads, and she would n't trust 
 nobody but me to handle some of the best china. 
 I used to say, ' Miss Katharine, why don't you 
 have some young folks come and stop with you 1 
 There 's Mis' Lancaster's daughter a growing up ' ; 
 but she did n't seem to care for nobody but your 
 mother. You wouldn't believe what a hand she 
 used to be for company in her younger days. 
 Surprisin' how folks alters. When I first rec'lect 
 her much she was as straight as an arrow, and she 
 used to go to Boston visiting and come home with
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 61 
 
 the top of the fashion. She always did dress ele- 
 gant. It used to be gay here, and she was always 
 going down to the Lorimers' or the Carews' to tea, 
 and they coming here. Her sister was married ; 
 she was a good deal older ; but some of her 
 brothers were at home. There was your grand- 
 father and Mr. Henry. I don't think she ever got 
 it over, his disappearing so. There were lots of 
 folks then that 's dead and gone, and they used to 
 have their card-parties, and old Cap'n Manning 
 he 's dead and gone used to have 'em all to play 
 whist every fortnight, sometimes three or four 
 tables, and they always had cake and wine handed 
 round, or the cap'n made some punch, like 's not, 
 with oranges in it, and lemons ; he knew how ! He 
 was a bachelor to the end of his days, the old 
 cap'n was, but he used to entertain real hand- 
 some. I rec'lect one night they was a playin' 
 after the wine was brought in, and he upset his 
 glass all over Miss Martha Loriiner's invisible- 
 green watered silk, and spoilt the better part of 
 two breadths. She sent right over for me early 
 the next morning to see if I knew of anything to 
 take out the spots, but I did n't, though I can take 
 grease out o' most any material. We tried clear 
 alcohol, and saieratus-water, and hartshorn, and
 
 62 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 pouring water through, and heating of it, and 
 when we got through it was worse than when we 
 started. She felt dreadful bad about it, and at 
 last she says, ' Judith, we won't work over it any 
 more, but if you '11 give me a day some time or 
 'nother, we '11 rip it up and make a quilt of it.' I 
 see that quilt last time I was in Miss Rebecca's 
 north chamber. Miss Martha was her aunt ; you 
 never saw her; she was dead and gone before 
 your day. It was a silk old Cap'n Peter Lorimer, 
 her brother, who left 'em his money, brought home 
 from sea, and she had worn it for best and second 
 best eleven year. It looked as good as new, and 
 she never would have ripped it up if she could 
 have matched it. I said it seemed to be a shame, 
 but it was a curi's figure. Cap'n Manning fetched 
 her one to pay for it the next time he went to 
 Boston. She did n't want to take it, but he 
 would n't take no for an answer ; he was free- 
 handed, the cap'n was. I helped 'em make it 
 'long of Mary Ann Simms the dressmaker, she 's 
 dead and gone too, the time it was made. It was 
 brown, and a beautiful-looking piece, but it wore 
 shiny, and she made a double-gown of it before she 
 died." 
 
 Mrs. Patton brought Kate and me some delicious
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 63 
 
 old-fashioned cake with much spice in it, and told 
 us it was made by old Mrs. Chantrey Brandon's 
 receipt which she got in England, that it would 
 keep a year, and she always kept a loaf by her, 
 now that she could afford it ; she supposed we 
 knew Miss Katharine had named her in her will 
 long before she was sick. " It has put me beyond 
 fear of want," said Mrs. Pattou. " I won't deny 
 that I used to think it would go hard with me 
 when I got so old I could n't earn my living. You 
 see I never laid up but a little, and it 's hard for 
 a woman who comes of respectable folks to be a 
 pauper in her last days ; but your aunt, Miss 
 Kate, she thought of it too, and I 'm sure I 'm 
 thankful to be so comfortable, and to stay in my 
 house, which I could n't have done, like 's not. 
 Miss Rebecca Lorimer said to me after I got news 
 of the will, ' Why, Mis' Patton, you don't suppose 
 your friends would ever have let you want ! ' And 
 I says, 'My friends are kind, the Lord bless 
 'em ! but I feel better to be able to do for my- 
 self than to be beholden.' " 
 
 After this long call we went down to the post- 
 office, and coming home stopped for a while in the 
 old burying-ground, which we had noticed the day 
 before ; and we sat for the first time on the great
 
 64 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 stone in the wall, in the shade of a maple-tree, 
 where we so often waited afterward for the stage 
 to come with the mail, or rested on our way home 
 from a walk. It was a comfortable perch ; we 
 used to read our letters there, I remember. 
 
 I must tell you a little about the Deephaven 
 burying-ground, for its interest was inexhaustible, 
 and I do not know how much time we may have 
 spent in reading the long epitaphs on the grave- 
 stones and trying to puzzle out the inscriptions, 
 which were often so old and worn that we could 
 only trace a letter here and there. It was a neg- 
 lected corner of the world, and there were strag- 
 gling sumachs and acacias scattered about the 
 enclosure, while a row of fine old elms marked the 
 boundary of two sides. The grass was long and 
 tangled, and most of the stones leaned one way or 
 the other, and some had fallen flat. There were a 
 few handsome old family monuments clustered in 
 one corner, among which the one that marked 
 Miss Brandon's grave looked so new and fresh 
 that it seemed inappropriate. " It should have 
 been dingy to begin with, like the rest," said Kate 
 one day ; " but I think it will make itself look like 
 its neighbors as soon as possible." 
 
 There were many stones which were sacred to
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 65 
 
 the memory of men who had been lost at sea, 
 almost always giving the name of the departed 
 ship, which was so kept in remembrance ; and one 
 felt as much interest in the ship Starlight, supposed 
 to have foundered off the Cape of Good Hope, as 
 in the poor fellow who had the ill luck to be one 
 of her crew. There were dozens of such inscrip- 
 tions, and there were other stones perpetuating 
 the fame of Honourable gentlemen who had been 
 members of His Majesty's Council, or surveyor's 
 of His Majesty's Woods, or King's Officers of Cus- 
 toms for the town of Deephaven. Some of the 
 epitaphs were beautiful, showing that tenderness 
 for the friends who had died, that longing to 
 do them justice, to fully acknowledge their vir- 
 tues and dearness, which is so touching, and so 
 unmistakable even under the stiff, quaint ex- 
 pressions and formal words which were thought 
 suitable to be chiselled on the stones, so soon to 
 be looked at carelessly by the tearless eyes of 
 strangers. We often used to notice names, and 
 learn their history from the old people whom we 
 knew, and in this way we heard many stories 
 which we never shall forget. It is wonderful, 
 the romance and tragedy and adventure which 
 one may find in a quiet old-fashioned country 
 
 E
 
 66 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 town, though to heartily enjoy the every-day 
 life one must care to study life and character, 
 and must find pleasure in thought and observa- 
 tion of simple things, and have an instinctive, 
 delicious interest in what to other eyes is unfla- 
 vored dulness. 
 
 To go back to Mrs. Patton ; on our way home, 
 after our first call upon her, we stopped to speak 
 to Mrs. Dockum, who mentioned that she had 
 seen us going in to the " Widow Jim's." 
 
 " Willin' woman," said Mrs. Dockum, " always 
 been respected; got an uncommon facility o' 
 speech. I never saw such a hand to talk, but 
 then she has something to say, which ain't the 
 case with everybody. Good neighbor, does accord- 
 ing to her means always. Dreadful tough time of 
 it with her husband, shifless and drunk all his 
 time. Noticed that dent in the side of her fore- 
 head, I s'pose 1 That 's where he liked to have 
 killed her ; slung a stone bottle at her." 
 
 " What!" said Kate and I, very much shocked. 
 
 " She don't like to have it inquired about ; but 
 she and I were sitting up with 'Manda Darner one 
 night, and she gave me the particulars. I knew 
 he did it, for she had a fit o' sickness afterward. 
 Had sliced cucumbers for breakfast that morning ;
 
 MY LADY BRANDON. 67 
 
 he was very partial to them, and lie wanted some 
 vinegar. Happened to be two bottles in the cel- 
 lar-way ; were just alike, and one of 'ein was vin- 
 egar and the other had sperrit in it at haying- 
 time. He takes up the wrong one and pours on 
 quick, and out come the hayseed and flies, and 
 he give the bottle a sling, and it hit her there 
 where you see the scar ; might put the end of 
 your finger into the dent. He said he meant to 
 break the bottle ag'in the door, but it went slant- 
 wise, sort of. I don' know, I 'm sure " (medita- 
 tively). " She said he was good-natured ; it was 
 early in the morniu', and he had n't had time to 
 get upset ; but he had a high temper naturally, 
 and so much drink had n't made it much better. 
 She had good prospects when she married him. 
 Six-foot-two and red cheeks and straight as a Nor- 
 oway pine ; had a good property from his father, 
 and his mother come of a good family, but he died 
 in debt ; drank like a fish. Yes, 't was a shame, nice 
 woman ; good consistent church-member j always 
 been respected ; useful among the sick."
 
 DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY. 
 
 T was curious to notice, in this quaint 
 little fishing-village by the sea, how 
 clearly the gradations of society were 
 defined. The place prided itself most upon having 
 been long ago the residence of one Governor Chan- 
 trey, who was a rich ship-owner and East India 
 merchant, and whose fame and magnificence were 
 almost fabulous. It was a never-ceasing regret 
 that his house should have burned down after he 
 died, and there is no doubt that if it w r ere still 
 standing it would rival any ruin of the Old World. 
 The elderly people, though laying claim to no 
 slight degree of present consequence, modestly 
 ignored it, and spoke with pride of the grand way 
 in which life was carried on by their ancestors, the 
 Deephaven families of old times. I think Kate 
 and I were assured at least a hundred times that 
 Governor Chantrey kept a valet, and his wife. 
 Lady Chantrey, kept a maid, and that the gov-
 
 DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY. 69 
 
 ernor had an uncle in England who was a baronet ; 
 and I believe this must have been why our friends 
 felt so deep an interest in the affairs of the Eng- 
 lish nobility : they no doubt felt themselves en- 
 titled to seats near the throne itself. There were 
 formerly five families who kept their coaches in 
 Deephaven ; there were balls at the governor's, 
 and regal entertainments at other of the grand 
 mansions ; there is not a really distinguished per- 
 son in the country who will not prove to have 
 been directly or indirectly connected with Deep- 
 haven. We were shown the cellar of the Chantrey 
 house, and the terraces, and a few clumps of lilacs, 
 and the grand rows of elms. There are still two 
 of the governor's warehouses left, but his ruined 
 wharves are fast disappearing, and are almost 
 deserted, except by small barefooted boys who 
 sit on the edges to fish for sea-perch when the 
 tide comes in. There is an imposing monument 
 in the burying-ground to the great man and his 
 amiable consort. I am sure that if there were 
 any surviving relatives of the governor they would 
 receive in Deephaven far more deference than is 
 consistent with the principles of a republican 
 government ; but the family became extinct long 
 since, and I have heard, though it is not a subject
 
 70 . DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 that one may speak of lightly, that the sons were 
 unworthy their noble descent and came to inglo- 
 rious ends. 
 
 There were still remaining a few representatives 
 of the old families, who were treated with much 
 reverence by the rest of the townspeople, although 
 they were, like the conies of Scripture, a feeble folk. 
 
 Deephaven is utterly out of fashion. It never 
 recovered from the effects of the embargo of 1807, 
 and a sand-bar has been steadily filling in the 
 mouth of the harbor. Though the fishing gives 
 what occupation there is for the inhabitants of the 
 place, it is by no means sufficient to draw recruits 
 from abroad. But nobody in Deephaven cares for 
 excitement, and if some one once in a while has 
 the low taste to prefer a more active life, he is 
 obliged to go elsewhere in search of it, and is 
 spoken of afterward with kind pity. I well re- 
 member the Widow Moses said to me, in speaking 
 of a certain misguided nephew of hers, " I never 
 could see what could 'a' sot him out to leave so 
 many privileges and go way off to Lynn, with all 
 them children too. Why, they lived here no more 
 than a cable's length from the meetin'-house ! " 
 
 There were two schooners owned in town, and 
 'Bijah Mauley and Jo Sands owned a trawl. There
 
 DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY. 71 
 
 were some schooners and a small brig slowly going 
 to pieces by the wharves, and indeed all Deephaven 
 looked more or less out of repair. All along shore 
 one might see dories and wherries and whale- 
 boats, which had been left to die a lingering death. 
 There is something piteous to me in the sight of 
 an old boat. If one I had used much and cared 
 for were past its usefulness, I should say good by 
 to it, and have it towed out to sea and sunk ; it 
 never should be left to fall to pieces above high- 
 water mark. 
 
 Even the commonest fishermen felt a satisfac- 
 tion, and seemed to realize their privilege, in being 
 residents of Deephaven ; but among the nobility 
 and gentry there lingered a fierce pride in their 
 family and town records, and a hardly concealed 
 contempt and pity for people who were obliged 
 to live in other parts of the world. There were 
 acknowledged to be a few disadvantages, such 
 as living nearly a dozen miles from the railway, 
 but, as Miss Honora Carew said, the tone of Deep- 
 haven society had always been very high, and it 
 was very nice that there had never been any man- 
 ufacturing element introduced. She could not feel 
 too grateful, herself, that there was no disagreeable 
 foreign population.
 
 72 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 " But," said Kate one day, " would n't you like 
 to have some pleasant new people brought into 
 town 1 " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear," said Miss Honora, rather 
 doubtfully ; " I have always been public-spirited ; 
 but then, we always have guests in summer, and 
 I am growing old. I should not care to enlarge 
 my acquaintance to any great extent." Miss 
 Honora and Mrs. Dent had lived gay lives in 
 their younger days, and were interested and con- 
 nected with the outside world more than any of 
 our Deephaven friends ; but they were quite con- 
 tented to stay in their own house, with their books 
 nnd letters and knitting, and they carefully read 
 Littell and " the new magazine," as they called 
 the Atlantic. 
 
 The Carews were very intimate with the minis- 
 ter and his sister, and there were one or two others 
 who belonged to this set. There was Mr. Joshua 
 Dorsey, who wore his hair in a queue, was very 
 deaf, and carried a ponderous cane which had 
 belonged to his venerated father, a much taller 
 man than he. He was polite to Kate and me, but 
 we never knew him much. He went to play whist 
 with the Carews every Monday evening, and com- 
 monly went out fishing once a week. He had
 
 DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY. 73 
 
 begun the practice of law, but he had lost his 
 hearing, and at the same time his lady-love had 
 inconsiderately fallen in love with somebody 
 else ; after which he retired from active business 
 life. He had a fine library, which he invited us 
 to examine. He had many new books, but they 
 looked shockingly overdressed, in their fresher 
 bindings, beside the old brown volumes of essays 
 and sermons, and lighter works in many-volume 
 editions. 
 
 A prominent link in society was Widow Tully, 
 who had been the much-respected housekeeper of 
 old Captain Manning for forty years. WJien he 
 died he left her the use of his house and family 
 pew, besides an annuity. The existence of Mr. 
 Tully seemed to be a myth. During the first of 
 his widow's residence in town she had been much 
 affected when obliged to speak of him, and always 
 represented herself as having seen better days and 
 as being highly connected. But she was apt to 
 be ungrammatical when excited, and there was a 
 whispered tradition that she used to keep a toll- 
 bridge in a town in Connecticut ; though the mys- 
 tery of her previous state of existence will prob- 
 ably never be solved. She wore mourning for the 
 captain which would have befitted his widow, and
 
 74 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 patronized the townspeople conspicuously, while 
 she herself was treated w r ith much condescension 
 by the Carews and Lorimers. She occupied, on 
 the whole, much the same position that Mrs. Betty 
 Barker did in Cranford. And, indeed, Kate and I 
 were often reminded of that estimable town. We 
 heard that Kate's aunt, Miss Brandon, had never 
 been appreciative of Mrs. Tully's merits, and that 
 since her death the others had received Mrs. Tully 
 into their society rather more. 
 
 It seemed as if all the clocks in Deephaven, and 
 all the people with them, had stopped years ago, 
 and the people had been doing over and over what 
 they had been busy about during the last week of 
 their unambitious progress. Their clothes had 
 lasted wonderfully well, and they had no need to 
 earn money when there was so little chance to 
 spend it ; indeed, there were several families who 
 seemed to have no more visible means of support 
 than a balloon. There were no young people 
 whom we knew, though a number used to come 
 to church on Sunday from the inland farms, or 
 " the country," as we learned to say. There were 
 children among the fishermen's families at the 
 shore, but a few years will see Deephaven possessed 
 by two classes instead of the time-honored three.
 
 DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY. 75 
 
 As for our first Sunday at church, it must be 
 in vain to ask you to imagine our delight when we 
 heard the tuning of a bass-viol in the gallery just 
 before service. We pressed each other's hands 
 most tenderly, looked up at the singers' seats, and 
 then trusted ourselves to look at each other. It 
 was more than we had hoped for. There were 
 also a violin and sometimes a flute, and a choir of 
 men and women singers, though the congregation 
 were expected to join in the psalm-singing. The 
 first hymn was 
 
 " The Lord our God is full of might, 
 The winds obey his will," 
 
 to the tune of St. Ann's. It was all so delight- 
 fully old-fashioned ; our pew was a square pew, 
 and was by an open window looking seaward. We 
 also had a view of the entire congregation, and 
 as we were somewhat early, we watched the people 
 come in, with great interest. The Deephaven 
 aristocracy came with stately step up the aisle ; 
 this was all the chance there was for displaying 
 their unquestioned dignity in public. 
 
 Many of the people drove to church in wagons 
 that were low and old and creaky, with worn buf- 
 falo-robes over the seat, and some hay tucked
 
 76 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 underneath for the sleepy, undecided old horse. 
 Some of the younger farmers and their wives had 
 high, shiny wagons, with tall horsewhips, which 
 they sometimes brought into church, and they 
 drove up to the steps with a consciousness of being 
 conspicuous and enviable. They had a bashful 
 look when they came in, and for a few minutes 
 after they took their seats they evidently felt that 
 all eyes were fixed upon them ; but after a little 
 while they were quite at their ease, and looked 
 critically at the new arrivals. 
 
 The old folks interested us most. "Do you 
 notice how many more old women there are than old 
 men 1 " whispered Kate to me. And we wondered 
 if the husbands and brothers had been drowned, 
 and if it must not be sad to look at the blue, 
 sunshiny sea beyond the marshes, if the far-away 
 white sails reminded them of some ships that had 
 never sailed home into Deephaven harbor, or of 
 fishing-boats that had never come back to land. 
 
 The girls and young men adorned themselves 
 in what they believed to be the latest fashion, but 
 the elderly women were usually relics of old times 
 in manner and dress. They wore to church thin, 
 soft silk gowns that must have been brought from 
 over the seas years upon years before, and wide
 
 DEEP HA YEN SOCIETY. 77 
 
 collars fastened with mourning-pins holding a lock 
 of hair. They had big black bonnets, some of 
 them with stiff capes, such as Kate and I had not 
 seen before since our childhood. They treasured 
 large rusty lace veils of scraggly pattern, and 
 wore sometimes, on pleasant Sundays, white China- 
 crape shawls with attenuated fringes.; and there 
 were two or three of these shawls in the congre- 
 gation which had been dyed black, and gave an 
 aspect of meekness and general unworthiness to 
 the aged wearer, they clung and drooped about 
 the figure in such a hopeless way. We used to 
 notice often the most interesting scarfs, without 
 which no Deephaven woman considered herself in 
 full dress. Sometimes there were red India scarfs 
 in spite of its being hot weather ; but our favorite 
 ones were long strips of silk, embroidered along 
 the edges and at the ends with dismal-colored floss 
 in odd patterns. I think there must have been 
 a fashion once, in Deephaven, of working these 
 scarfs, and I should not be surprised to find that 
 it was many years before the fashion of working 
 samplers came about. Our friends always wore 
 black mitts on warm Sundays, and many of them 
 carried neat little bags of various designs on their 
 arms, containing a precisely folded pocket-hand-
 
 78 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 kerchief, and a frugal lunch of caraway seeds or 
 red and white peppermints. I should like you to 
 see, with your own eyes, Widow Ware and Miss 
 Exper'ence Hull, two old sisters whose personal 
 appearance we delighted in, and whom we saw 
 feebly approaching down the street this first 
 Sunday morning under the shadow of the two 
 last members of an otherwise extinct race of 
 parasols. 
 
 There were two or three old men who sat near 
 us. They were sailors, there is something un- 
 mistakable about a sailor, and they had a curi- 
 ously ancient, uncanny look, as if they might have 
 belonged to the crew of the Mayflower, or even 
 have cruised about with the Northmen in the 
 times of Harold Harfager and his comrades. They 
 had been blown about by so many winter winds, 
 so browned by summer suns, and wet by salt 
 spray, that their hands and faces looked like leather, 
 with a few deep folds instead of wrinkles. They 
 had pale blue eyes, very keen and quick ; their 
 hair looked like the fine sea-w r eed which clings to 
 the kelp-roots and mussel-shells in little locks. 
 These friends of ours sat solemnly at the heads of 
 their pews and looked unflinchingly at the minister, 
 when they were not dozing, and they sang with
 
 DEEP II A VEX SOCIETY. 79 
 
 voices like the howl of the wind, with an occasional 
 deep note or two. 
 
 Have you never seen faces that seemed old- 
 fashioned 1 Many of the people in Deephaven 
 church looked as if they must be if not super- 
 naturally old exact copies of their remote an- 
 cestors. I wonder if it is not possible that the 
 features and expression may be almost perfectly 
 reproduced. These faces were not modern Amer- 
 ican faces, but belonged rather to the days of tho 
 early settlement of the country, the old colonial 
 times. We often heard quaint words and expres- 
 sions which we never had known anywhere else but 
 in old books. There was a ^reat deal of sea-lingo 
 in use ; indeed, we learned a great deal ourselves, 
 unconsciously, and used it afterward to the great 
 amusement of our friends ; but there were also 
 many peculiar provincialisms, and among the peo- 
 ple who lived on the lonely farms inland we often 
 noticed words we had seen in Chaucer, and studied 
 out at school in our English literature class. Every- 
 thing in Deephaven was more or less influenced by 
 the sea ; the minister spoke oftenest of Peter and 
 his fishermen companions, and prayed most ear- 
 nestly every Sunday morning for those who go down 
 to the sea in ships. He made frequent allusions
 
 80 DEEPHA VEX. 
 
 and drew numberless illustrations of a similar 
 kind for his sermons, and indeed I am in doubt 
 whether, if the Bible had been written wholly in 
 inland countries, it would have been much valued 
 in Deephaven. 
 
 The singing was very droll, for there was a 
 majority of old voices, which had seen their best 
 days long before, and the bass-viol was excessively 
 noticeable, and apt to be a little ahead of the time 
 the singers kept, while the violin lingered after. 
 Somewhere on the other side of the church we 
 heard an acute voice which rose high above all the 
 rest of the congregation, sharp as a needle, and 
 slightly cracked, with a limitless supply of breath. 
 It rose and fell gallantly, and clung long to the 
 high notes of Dundee. It was like the wail of the 
 banshee, which sounds clear to the fated hearer 
 above all other noises. We afterward became ac- 
 quainted with the owner of this voice, and were 
 surprised to find her a meek widow, who was like 
 a thin black beetle in her pathetic cypress veil 
 and big black bonnet. She looked as if she had 
 .forgotten who she was, and spoke with an apolo- 
 getic whine ; but we heard she had a temper as 
 high as her voice, and as much to be dreaded as 
 the equinoctial gale.
 
 DEEPHA YEN SOCIETY. 81 
 
 Near the church was the parsonage, where Mr. 
 Lorimer lived, and the old Lorimer house not far 
 beyond was occupied by Miss Rebecca Lorimer. 
 Some stranger might ask the question why the 
 minister and his sister did not live together, but 
 you would have understood it at once after you 
 had lived for a little while in town. They were 
 very fond of each other, and the minister dined with 
 Miss Rebecca on Sundays, and she passed the day 
 with him on Wednesdays, and they ruled their 
 separate households with decision and dignity. I 
 think Mr. Lorimer's house showed no signs of 
 being without a mistress, any more than his sister's 
 betrayed the want of a master's care and authority. 
 
 The Carews were very kind friends of ours, and 
 had been Miss Brandon's best friends. We heard 
 that there had always been a coolness between 
 Miss Brandon and Miss Lorimer, and that, though 
 they exchanged visits and were always polite, there 
 was a chill in the politeness, and one would never 
 have suspected them of admiring each other at all. 
 We had the whole history of the trouble, which 
 dated back scores of years, from Miss Honora 
 Carew, but we always took pains to appear igno- 
 rant of the feud, and I think Miss Lorimer was 
 satisfied that it was best not to refer to it, and to let 
 4* F
 
 82 DEEP HA VEX. 
 
 bygones be bygones. It would not have been true 
 Deephaven courtesy to prejudice Kate against her 
 grand-aunt, and Miss Rebecca cherished her dis- 
 like in silence, which gave us a most grand respect 
 for her, since we knew she thought herself in the 
 right ; though I think it never had come to an open 
 quarrel between these majestic aristocrats. 
 
 Miss Honora Carew and Mr. Dick and their 
 elder sister, Mrs. Dent, had a charmingly sedate 
 and quiet home in the old Carew house. Mrs. 
 Dent was ill a great deal while we were there, but 
 she must have been a very brilliant woman, and 
 was not at all dull when we knew her. She had 
 outlived her husband and her children, and she 
 had, several years before our summer there, given 
 up her own home, which was in the city, and had 
 come back to Deephaven. Miss Honora dear Miss 
 Honora ! had been one of the brightest, happiest 
 girls, and had lost none of her brightness and 
 happiness by growing old. She had lost none of 
 her fondness for societ} T , though she was so con- 
 tented in quiet Deephaven, and I think she enjoyed 
 Kate's and my stories of our pleasures as much as 
 we did hers of old times. We used to go to see 
 her almost every day. " Mr. Dick," as they called 
 their brother, had once been a merchant in the
 
 DEEPHA VEN SOCIETY. 83 
 
 East Indies, and there were quantities of curiosi- 
 ties and most beautiful china which he had brought 
 and sent home, which gave the house a character 
 of its own. He had been very rich and had lost 
 some of his money, and then he came home and 
 was still considered to possess princely wealth by 
 his neighbors. He had a great fondness for read- 
 ing and study, which had not been lost sight of 
 during his business life, and he spent most of his 
 time in his library. He and Mr. Lorimer had 
 their differences of opinion about certain points of 
 theology, and this made them much fonder of each 
 other's society, and gave them a great deal of 
 pleasure ; for after every series of arguments, each 
 was sure that he had vanquished the other, or 
 there were alternate victories and defeats which 
 made life vastly interesting and important. 
 
 Miss Carevv and Mrs. Dent had a great treasury 
 of old brocades and laces and ornaments, which 
 they showed us one day, and told us stories of the 
 wearers, or, if they were their own, there were always 
 some reminiscences which they liked to talk over 
 with each other and with us. I never shall forget 
 the first evening we took tea with them ; it im- 
 pressed us very much, and yet nothing wonderful 
 happened. Tea was handed round by an old-
 
 84 DEEPHA VEX. 
 
 fashioned maid, and afterward we sat talking in 
 the twilight, looking out at the garden. It was 
 such a delight to have tea served in this way. . I 
 wonder that the fashion has been almost forgotten. 
 Kate and I took much pleasure in choosing our 
 tea-poys ; hers had a mandarin parading on the 
 top, and mine a flight of birds and a pagoda ; and 
 we often used them afterward, for Miss Honora 
 asked us to come to tea whenever we liked. " A 
 stupid, common country town " some one dared to 
 call Deephaven in a letter once, and how bitterly 
 we resented it ! That was a house where one 
 might find the best society, and the most charm- 
 ing manners and good-breeding, and if I were 
 asked to tell you what I mean by the word " lady," 
 I should ask you to go, if it were possible, to call 
 upon Miss Honora Carew. 
 
 After a while the elder sister said, "My dears, 
 we always have prayers at nine, for I have to go 
 up stairs early nowadays." And then the servants 
 came in, and she read solemnly the King of glory 
 Psalm, which I have always liked best, and then 
 Mr. Dick read the church prayers, the form of 
 prayer to be used in families. We stayed later to 
 talk with Miss Honora after we had said good night 
 to Mrs. Dent. And we told each other, as we went
 
 DEEP HAVEN SOCIETY. 85 
 
 home in the moonlight down the quiet street, how 
 much we had enjoyed the evening, for somehow 
 the house and the people had nothing to do with 
 the present, or the hurry of modern life. I have 
 never heard that psalm since without its bringing 
 back that summer night in Deephaven, the beauti- 
 ful quaint old room, and Kate and I feeling so 
 young and worldly, by contrast, the flickering, 
 shaded light of the candles, the old book, and the 
 voices that said Amen. 
 
 There were several other fine old houses in 
 Deephaven beside this and the Brandon house, 
 though that was rather the most imposing. There 
 were two or three which had not been kept in re- 
 pair, and were deserted, and of course they were 
 said to be haunted, and we were told of their 
 ghosts, and why they walked, and when. From 
 some of the local superstitions Kate and I have, 
 vainly endeavored ever since to shake ourselves 
 free. There was a most heathenish fear of doing 
 certain things on Friday, and there were countless 
 signs in which we still have confidence. When the 
 moon is very bright and other people grow senti- 
 mental, we only remember that it is a fine night 
 to catch hake.
 
 THE CAPTAINS. 
 
 SHOULD consider my account of Deep- 
 haven society incomplete if I did not tell 
 you something of the ancient mariners, 
 who may be found every pleasant morning sunning 
 themselves like turtles on one of the wharves. 
 Sometimes there was a considerable group of them, 
 but the less constant members of the club were 
 older than tho rest, and the epidemics of rheuma- 
 tism in town were sadly frequent. We found that 
 it was etiquette to call them each captain, but I 
 .think some of the Deephaven men took the title 
 by brevet upon arriving at a proper age. 
 
 They sat close together because so many of 
 them were deaf, and when we were lucky enough 
 to overhear the conversation, it seemed to concern 
 their adventures at sea, or the freight carried out 
 by the Sea Duck, the Ocean Rover, or some other 
 Deephaven ship, the particulars of the voyage 
 and its disasters and successes being as familiar as
 
 THE CAPTAINS. 87 
 
 the wanderings of the children of Israel to an old 
 parson. There were sometimes violent altercations 
 when the captains differed as to the tonnage of some 
 craft that had been a prey to the winds and waves, 
 dry-rot, or barnacles fifty years before. The old 
 fellows puffed away at little black pipes with short 
 stems, and otherwise consumed tobacco in fabulous 
 quantities. It is needless to say that they gave 
 an immense deal of attention to the weather. We 
 used to wish we could join this agreeable company, 
 but we found that the appearance of an outsider 
 caused a disapproving silence, and that the meet- 
 ing was evidently not to be interfered with. Once 
 we were impertinent enough to hide ourselves for 
 a while just round the corner of the warehouse, but 
 we were afraid or ashamed to try it again, though 
 the conversation was inconceivably edifying. Cap- 
 tain Isaac Horn, the eldest and wisest of all, was 
 discoursing upon some cloth he had purchased 
 once in Bristol, which the shop-keeper delayed 
 sending until just as they were ready to weigh 
 anchor. 
 
 " I happened to take a look at that cloth," said 
 the captain, in a loud droning voice, " and as quick 
 as I got sight of it, I spoke onpleasant of that 
 swindling English fellow, and the crew, they stood
 
 88 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 back. I was dreadful high-tempered in them days, 
 mind ye ; and I had the gig manned. We was 
 out in the stream, just ready to sail. 'T was no 
 use waiting any longer for the wind to change, and 
 we was going north-about. I went ashore, and 
 when I walks into his shop ye never see a creatur' 
 so wilted. Ye see the miser'ble sculpin thought 
 I 'd never stop to open the goods, an' it was a 
 chance I did, mind ye ! ' Lor,' says he, grinning 
 and turning the color of a biled lobster, ' I s'posed 
 ye were a standing out to sea by this time.' ' Xo,' 
 says I, ' and I 've got my men out here on the quay 
 a landing that cloth o' } T ourn, and if you don't send 
 just what I bought and paid for down there to go 
 back in the gig within fifteen minutes, I '11 take ye 
 by the collar and drop ye into the dock.' I was 
 twice the size of him, mind ye, and master strong. 
 ' Don't ye like it 1 ' says he, edging round ; * I '11 
 change it for ye, then.' Ter'ble perlite he was. 
 ' Like it 1 ' says I, ' it looks as if it were built of 
 dog's hair and divil's wool, kicked together by 
 spiders ; and it 's coarser than Irish frieze ; three 
 threads to an armful,' says I." 
 
 This was evidently one of the captain's favorite 
 stories, for we heard an approving grumble from 
 the audience.
 
 THE CAPTAINS. 89 
 
 In the course of a walk inland we made a new 
 acquaintance, Captain Lant, whom we had noticed 
 at church, and who sometimes joined the company 
 on the wharf. We had been walking through the 
 woods, and coming out to his fields we went on to 
 the house for some water. There was no one at 
 home but the captain, who told us cheerfully 
 that he should be pleased to serve us, though his 
 women-folks had gone off to a funeral, the other 
 side of the P'int. He brought out a pitcherful 
 of milk, and after we had drunk some, we all sat 
 down together in the shade. The captain brought 
 an old flag-bottomed chair from the woodhouse, 
 and sat down facing Kate and me, with an air of 
 certainty that he was going to hear something new 
 and make some desirable new acquaintances, and 
 also that he could tell something it would be worth 
 our while to hear. He looked more and more like 
 a well-to-do old English sparrow, and chippered 
 faster and faster. 
 
 " Queer ye should know I 'm a sailor so quick ; 
 why, I 've been a-farming it this twenty years ; have 
 to go down to the shore and take a day's fishing 
 every hand's turn, though, to keep the old hulk 
 clear of barnacles. There ! I do wish I lived 
 nigher the shore, where I could see the folks I
 
 90 DEEP II A VEX. 
 
 know, and talk about what 's been a-goin' on. You 
 don't know anything about it, you don't ; but it 's 
 tryin' to a man to be called ' old Cap'n Laut,' and, 
 so to speak, be forgot when there 's anything stir- 
 ring, and be called gran'ther by clumsy creatur's 
 goin' on tifty and sixty, who can't do no more work 
 to-day than I can ; an' then the women-folks keeps 
 a-tellin' me to be keerful and not fall, and as how 
 1 'm too old to go out fishing ; and when they want 
 to be soft-spoken, they say as how they don't see 
 as I fail, and how wonderful I keep my hearin'. 
 I never did want to farm it, but ' she ' always took 
 it to heart when I was off on a v'y'ge, and this 
 farm and some consider'ble means beside come to 
 her from her brother, and they all sot to and give 
 me no peace of mind till I sold out my share of 
 the Ann Eliza and come ashore for good. I did 
 keep an eighth of the Pactolus, and I was ship's 
 husband for a long spell, but she never was heard 
 from on her last voyage to Singapore. I was the 
 lonesomest man, when I first come ashore, that 
 ever you see. Well, you are master hands to walk, 
 if you come way up from the Brandon house. I 
 wish the women was at home. Know Miss Bran- 
 don 1 Why, yes ; and 1 remember all her brothers 
 and sisters, and her father and mother. I can see
 
 THE CAPTAINS. 91 
 
 'em now coming into meeting, proud as Lucifer 
 and straight as a mast, every one of 'em. Miss 
 Katharine, she always had her butter from this 
 very farm. Some of the folks used to go down 
 every Saturday, and my wife, she 's been in the 
 house a hundred times, I s'pose. So you are 
 Hathaway Brandon's grand-daughter 1 ?" (to Kate ) ; 
 " why, he and I have been out fishing together 
 many 's the time, he and Chantrey, his next 
 younger brother. Henry, he was a disapp'intment ; 
 he went to furrin parts and turned out a Catholic 
 priest, I s'pose you 've heard 1 I never was so set 
 ag'in Mr. Henry as some folks was. He was the 
 pleasantest spoken of the whole on 'em. You 
 do look like the Brandons ; you really favor 'em 
 consider' ble. Well, I 'm pleased to see ye, I 'm 
 sure." 
 
 We asked him many questions about the old 
 people, and found he knew all the family histories 
 and told them with great satisfaction. We found he 
 had his pet stories, and it must have been gratify- 
 ing to have an entirely new and fresh audience. 
 He was adroit in leading the conversation around 
 to a point where the stories would come in appro- 
 priately, and we helped him as much as possible. 
 In a small neighborhood all the people know each
 
 92 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 other's stories and experiences by heart, and I 
 have no doubt the old captain had been snubbed 
 many times on beginning a favorite anecdote. 
 There was a story which he told us that first day, 
 which he assured us was strictly true, and it is 
 certainly a remarkable instance of the influence of 
 one mind upon another at a distance. It seems to 
 me worth preserving, at any rate ; and as we heard 
 it from the old man, with his solemn voice and 
 serious expression and quaint gestures, it was 
 singularly impressive. 
 
 " When I was a youngster," said Captain Lant, 
 " I was an orphan, and I was bound out to old Mr. 
 Peletiah Daw's folks, over on the Ridge Road. It 
 was in the time of the last war, and he had a 
 nephew, Ben Dighton, a dreadful high-strung, wild 
 fellow, who had gone off on a privateer. The old 
 man, he set everything by Ben ; he would dis- 
 oblige his own boys any day to please him. This 
 was in his latter days, and he used to have spells 
 of wandering and being out of his head ; and he 
 used to call for Ben and talk sort of foolish about 
 him, till they would tell him to stop. Ben never 
 did a stroke of work for him, either, but he was a 
 handsome fellow, and had a way with him when he 
 was good-natured. One night old Peletiah had
 
 THE CAPTAINS. 93 
 
 been very bad all day and was getting quieted 
 down, and it was after supper ; we sat round in 
 the kitchen, and he lay in the bedroom opening 
 out. There were some pitch-knots blazing, and the 
 light shone in on the bed, and all of a sudden 
 something made me look up and look in ; and 
 there was the old man setting up straight, with 
 his eyes shining at me like a cat's. ' Stop 'em ! ' 
 says he ; ' stop 'em ! ' and his two sons run in then 
 to catch hold of him, for they thought he was 
 beginning with one of his wild spells ; but he fell 
 back on the bed and began to cry like a baby. 
 * 0, dear me,' says he, ' they 've hung him, hung 
 him right up to the yard-arm ! 0, they ought n't 
 to have done it ; cut him down quick ! he did n't 
 think ; he means well, Ben does ; he was hasty. 
 my God, I can't bear to see him swing round 
 by the neck ! It 's poor Ben hung up to the yard- 
 arm. Let me alone, I say ! ' Andrew and Moses, 
 they were holding him with all their might, and 
 they were both hearty men, but he 'most got away 
 from them once or twice, and he screeched and 
 howled like a mad creatur', and then he would cry 
 again like a child. He was worn out after a while 
 and lay back quiet, and said over and over, ' Poor 
 Ben ! ' and ' hung at the yard-arm ' ; and he told
 
 94: DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 the neighbors next day, but nobody noticed him 
 much, and he seemed to forget it as his mind come 
 back. All that summer he was miser'ble, and 
 towards cold weather he failed right along, though 
 he had been a master strong man in his day, and 
 his timbers held together well. Along late in the 
 fall he had taken to his bed, and one day there 
 came to the house a fellow named Sim Decker, a 
 reckless fellow he was too, who had gone out in 
 the same ship with Ben. He pulled a long face 
 when he came in, and said he had brought bad 
 news. They had been taken prisoner and carried 
 into port and put in jail, and Ben Dighton had got 
 a fever there and died. 
 
 " * You lie ! ' says the old man from the bed- 
 room, speaking as loud and f'erce as ever you 
 heard. ' They hung him to the yard-arm ! ' 
 
 " * Don't mind him,' says Andrew ; ' he 's wan- 
 dering-like, and he had a bad dream along back in 
 the spring ; I s'posed he 'd forgotten it.' But the 
 Decker fellow he turned pale, and kept talking 
 crooked while he listened to old Peletiah a-scold- 
 ing to himself. He answered the questions the 
 women-folks asked him, they took on a good 
 deal, but pretty soon he got up and winked to 
 me and Andrew, and we went out in the yard.
 
 THE CAPTAINS. 95 
 
 He began to swear, and then says be, ' When did 
 the old man have his dream 1 ' Andrew could n't 
 remember, but I knew it was the night before 
 he sold the gray colt, and that was the 24th of 
 April. 
 
 " ' Well,' says Sim Decker, ' on the twenty-third 
 day of April Ben Dighton was hung to the yard- 
 arm, and I see 'em do it, Lord help him ! I did n't 
 mean to tell the women, and I s'posed you 'd never 
 know, for I 'm all the one of the ship's company 
 you 're ever likely to see. We were taken prisoner, 
 and Ben was mad as fire, and they were scared of 
 him and chained him to the deck ; and while he 
 was sulking there, a little parrot of a midshipman 
 come up and grinned at him, and snapped his 
 fingers in his face ; and Ben lifted his hands with 
 the heavy irons and sprung at him like a tiger, 
 and the boy dropped dead as a stone ; and they 
 put the bight of a rope round Ben's neck and slung 
 him right up to the yard-arm, and there he swung 
 back and forth until as soon as we dared one of $is 
 dim' up and cut the rope and let him go over the 
 ship's side ; and they put us in irons for that, curse 
 'em ! How did that old man in there know, and he 
 bedridden here, nigh upon three thousand miles 
 off] ' says he. But I guess there was n't any of us
 
 96 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 could tell him," said Captain Lant in conclusion. 
 " It 's something I never could account for, but 
 it 's true as truth. I 've known more such cases ; 
 some folks laughs at me for believing 'em, ' the 
 cap'n's yarns,' they calls 'em, but if you '11 
 notice, everybody 's got some yarn of that kind 
 they do believe, if they won't believe yours. And 
 there 's a good deal happens in the world that 's 
 myster'ous. Now there was Widder Oliver Pink- 
 ham, over to the P'int, told me with her own lips 
 that she " But just here we saw the captain's 
 expression alter suddenly, and looked around to 
 see a wagon coming up the lane. We immediately 
 said we must go home, for it was growing late, 
 but asked permission to come again and hear the 
 Widow Oliver Piukham story. We stopped, how- 
 ever, to see "the women-folks," and afterward 
 became so intimate with them that we were in- 
 vited to spend the afternoon and take tea, which 
 invitation we accepted with great pride. We went 
 out fishing, also, with the captain and " Danny," 
 of whom I will tell you presently. I often think 
 of Captain Lant in the winter, for he told Kate 
 once that he " felt master old in winter to what he 
 did in summer." He likes reading, fortunately, 
 and we had a letter from him, not long ago, ac-
 
 THE CAPTAINS. 97 
 
 knowledging the receipt of some books of travel 
 by land and water which we had luckily thought 
 to send him. He gave the latitude and longitude 
 of Deephaven at the beginning of his letter, and 
 signed himself, " Respectfully yours with esteem, 
 Jacob Lant (condemned as unseaworthy)."
 
 DANNY. 
 
 flEEPHAVEN seemed more like one of the 
 lazy little English seaside towns than 
 any other. It was not in the least 
 American. There was no excitement about any- 
 thing ; there were no manufactories; nobody seemed 
 in the least hurry. The only foreigners were a 
 few stranded sailors. I do not know when a house 
 or a new building of any kind had been built ; the 
 men were farmers, or went outward in boats, or 
 inward in fish-wagons, or sometimes mackerel and 
 halibut fishing in schooners for the city markets. 
 Sometimes a schooner came to one of the wharves 
 to load with hay or firewood ; but Deephaveli 
 used to be a town of note, rich and busy, as its 
 forsaken warehouses show. 
 
 We knew almost all the fisher-people at the 
 shore, even old Dinnett, who lived an apparently 
 desolate life by himself in a hut and was reputed 
 to have been a bloodthirsty pirate in his youth.
 
 DANNY. 99 
 
 He was consequently feared by all the children, 
 and for misdemeanors in his latter days avoided 
 generally. Kate talked with him awhile one day 
 on the shore, and made him come up with her for 
 a bandage for his hand which she saw he had hurt 
 badly ; and the next morning he brought us a 
 " new " lobster apiece, fishermen mean that a 
 thing is only not salted when they say it is "fresh." 
 We happened to be in the hall, and received him 
 ourselves, and gave him a great piece of tobacco 
 and (unintentionally) the means of drinking our 
 health. " Bless your pretty hearts ! " said he ; 
 " may ye be happy, and live long, and get good 
 husbands, and if they ain't good to you may they 
 die from you ! " 
 
 None of our friends were more interesting than 
 the fishermen. The fish-houses, which might be 
 called the business centre of the town, were at a 
 little distance from the old warehouses, farther 
 down the harbor shore, and were ready to fall 
 down in despair. There were some fishermen who 
 lived near by, but most of them were also farmers 
 in a small way, and lived in the village or farther 
 inland. From our eastern windows we could see 
 the moorings, and we always liked to watch the 
 boats go out or come straying in, one after the
 
 100 DEEP II A VEX. 
 
 other, tipping and skimming under the square 
 little sails ; and we often went down to the fish- 
 houses to see what kind of a catch there had 
 been. 
 
 I should have imagined that the sea would 
 become very commonplace to men whose business 
 was carried on in boats, and who had spent night 
 after night and day after day from their boyhood 
 on the water ; but that is a mistake. They have 
 an awe of the sea and of its mysteries, and of what 
 it hides away from us. They are childish in their 
 wonder at any strange creature which they find. 
 If they have not seen the sea-serpent, they believe, 
 I am sure, that other people have, and when a great 
 shark or black-fish or sword-fish was taken and 
 brought in shore, everybody went to see it, and 
 we talked about it, and how brave its conqueror 
 was, and what a fight there had been, for a long 
 time afterward. 
 
 I said that we liked to see the boats go out, but 
 I must not give you the impression that we saw 
 them often, for they weighed anchor at an early 
 hour in the morning. I remember once there was 
 a light fog over the sea, lifting fast, as the sun 
 was coming up, and the brownish sails disappeared 
 in the mist, while voices could still be heard
 
 DANNY. 101 
 
 for some minutes after the men were hidden from 
 sight. This gave one a curious feeling, but after- 
 ward, when the sun had risen, everything looked 
 much the same as usual ; the fog had gone, and 
 the dories and even the larger boats were distant 
 specks on the sparkling sea. 
 
 One afternoon we made a new acquaintance in 
 this wise. We went down to the shore to see if 
 we could hire a conveyance to the lighthouse the 
 next morning. We often went out early in one of 
 the fishing-boats, and after we had stayed as long as 
 we pleased, Mr. Kew would bring us home. It was 
 quiet enough that day, for not a single boat had 
 come in, and there were no men to be seen along- 
 shore. There was a salemn company of lobster- 
 coops or cages which had been brought in to be 
 mended. They always amused Kate. She said 
 they seemed to her like droll old women telling 
 each other secrets. These were scattered about in 
 different attitudes, and looked more confidential 
 than usual. 
 
 Just as we were going away we happened to see 
 a man at work in one of the sheds. He was the 
 fisherman whom we knew least of all; an odd-look- 
 ing, silent sort of man, more sunburnt and weather- 
 beaten than any of the others. We had learned
 
 102 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 to know him by the bright red flannel shirt he 
 always wore, and besides, he was lame ; some one 
 told us he had had a bad fall once, on board ship. 
 Kate and I had always wished we could find a 
 chance to talk w r ith him. He looked up at us 
 pleasantly, and when we nodded and smiled, he said 
 " Good day " in a gruff, hearty voice, and went on 
 with his work, cleaning mackerel. 
 
 " Do you mind our watching you 1 ? " asked Kate. 
 
 " No, ma'am ! " said the fisherman emphatically. 
 So there we stood. 
 
 Those fish-houses were curious places, so differ- 
 ent from any other kind of workshop. In thia 
 there was a seine, or part of one, festooned among 
 the cross-beams overhead, and there were snarled 
 fishing-lines, and barrows to carry fish in, like 
 wheelbarrows without wheels ; there were the 
 queer round lobster-nets, and " kits" of salt mack- 
 erel, tubs of bait, and piles of clams ; and some 
 queer bones, and parts of remarkable fish, and 
 lobster-claws of surprising size fastened on the 
 walls for ornament. There was a pile of rubbish 
 down at the end; I dare say it was all useful, how- 
 ever, there is such mystery about the business. 
 
 Kate and I were never tired of hearing of the 
 fish that come at different times of the year, and
 
 DANNY. 103 
 
 go away again, like the birds ; or of the actions 
 of the dog-fish, which the 'longshore-men hate so 
 bitterly ; and then there are such curious legends 
 and traditions, of which almost all fishermen have 
 a store. 
 
 "I think mackerel are the prettiest fish that 
 swim," said I presently. 
 
 " So do I, miss," said the man, " not to say but 
 I 've seen more fancy -looking fish down in southern 
 waters, bright as any flower you ever see ; but 
 a mackerel," holding up one admiringly, " why, 
 they 're so clean-built and trig-looking ! Put a 
 cod alongside, and he looks as lumbering as an 
 old-fashioned Dutch brig aside a yacht. 
 
 " Those are good-looking fish, but they an't 
 made much account of," continued our friend, as 
 he pushed aside the mackerel and took another 
 tub. " They 're hake, I s'pose yon know. But I 
 forgot, I can't stop to bother with them now." 
 And he pulled forward a barrow full of small fish, 
 flat and hard, with pointed, bony heads. 
 
 " Those are porgies, are n't they 1 " asked Kate. 
 
 "Yes," said the man, "an' I 'm going to sliver 
 them for the trawls." 
 
 We knew what the trawls were, and supposed 
 that the porgies were to be used for bait ; and we
 
 104 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 soon found out what " slivering " meant, by see- 
 ing him take them by the head and cut a slice 
 from first one side and then the other in such a 
 way that the pieces looked not unlike smaller fish. 
 
 " It seems to me," said I, " that fishermen al- 
 ways have sharper knives than other people." 
 
 " Yes, we do like a sharp knife in our trade ; 
 and then we are mostly strong-handed." 
 
 He was throwing the porgies' heads and back- 
 bones all that was left of them after slivering 
 in a heap, and now several cats walked in as if 
 they felt at home, and began a hearty lunch. 
 " What a troop of pussies there is round here," 
 said I ; " I wonder what will become of them in 
 the winter, though, to be sure, the fishing goes 
 on just the same." 
 
 " The better part of them don't get through the 
 cold weather," said Danny. " Two or three of the 
 old ones have been here for years, and are as much 
 belonging to Deephaven as the meetin'-house; but 
 the rest of them an't to be depended on. You '11 
 miss the young ones by the dozen, come spring. 
 I don't know myself but they move inland in the 
 fall of the year; they 're knowing enough, if that 's 
 all ! " 
 
 Kate and I stood in the wide doorway, arm in
 
 DANNY. 105 
 
 arm, looking sometimes at the queer fisherman 
 and the porgies, and sometimes out to sea. It 
 was low tide ; the wind had risen a little, and the 
 heavy salt air blew toward us from the wet brown 
 ledges in the rocky harbor. The sea was bright 
 blue, and the suu was shining. Two gulls were 
 swinging lazily to and fro ; there was a flock of 
 sand-pipers down by the water's edge, in a great 
 hurry, as usual. 
 
 Presently the fisherman spoke again, beginning 
 with an odd laugh : "I was scared last winter ! 
 Jack Scudder and me, we were up in the Cap'n 
 Manning storehouse hunting for a half-bar! of 
 salt the skipper said was there. It was an awful 
 blustering kind of day, with a thin icy rain blow- 
 ing from all points at once ; sea roaring as if it 
 wished it could come ashore and put a stop to 
 everything. Bad days at sea, them are ; rigging 
 all froze up. As I was saying, we were hunting 
 for a half-bar'l of salt, and I laid hold of a bar'l 
 that had something heavy in the bottom, and 
 tilted it up, and my eye ! there was a stir and a 
 scratch and a squeal, and out went some kind of 
 a creatur', and I jumped back, not looking for 
 anything live, but I see in a minute it was a 
 cat ; and perhaps you think it is a big story, but 
 5*
 
 10.6 DEEP HAVEN. 
 
 there were eight more in there, hived in together 
 to keep warm. I car'd 'em up some new fish 
 that night \ they seemed short of provisions. We 
 had n't been out fishing as much as common, and 
 they had n't dared to be round the fish-houses 
 much, for a fellow who came in on a coaster had 
 a dog, and he used to chase 'em. Hard chance 
 they had, and lots of 'em died, I guess ; but 
 there seem to be some survivin' relatives, an' 
 al'ays just so hungry ! I used to feed them some 
 when I was ashore, I think likeh' you 've heard 
 that a cat will fetch you bad luck ; but I don't 
 know 's that made much difference to me. I kind 
 of like to keep on the right side of 'em, too ; if 
 ever I have a bad dream there 's sure to be a cat 
 in it ; but I was brought up to be clever to dumb 
 beasts, an' I guess it 's my natur'. Except fish," 
 said Danny after a minute's thougTit ; " but then 
 it never seems like they had feelin's like creatur's 
 that live ashore." And we all laughed heartily 
 and felt well acquainted. 
 
 " I s'pose you misses will laugh if I tell ye, I 
 kept a kitty once myself." This was said rather 
 shyly, and there was evidently a story, so we were 
 much interested, and Kate said, " Please tell us 
 about it ; was it at sea ? "
 
 DANNY. 107 
 
 " Yes, it was at sea ; leastways, on a coaster. I 
 got her in a sing'lar kind of way : it was one after- 
 noon we were lying alongside Charlestown Bridge, 
 and I heard a young cat screeching real pitiful ; 
 and after I looked all round, I see her in the water 
 clutching on to the pier of the bridge, and some 
 little divils of boys were heaving rocks down at 
 her. I got into the schooner's tag-boat quick, I 
 tell ye, and pushed off for her, 'n' she let go just 
 as I got there, 'n' I guess you never saw a more 
 miser'ble-looking creatur' than I fished out of the 
 water. Cold weather it was. Her leg was hurt, 
 and her eye, and I thought first I 'd drop her over- 
 board again, and then I did n't, and I took her 
 aboard the schooner and put her by the stove. I 
 thought she might as well die where it was warm. 
 She eat a little mite of chowder before night, but 
 she was very slim ; but next morning, when I 
 went to see if she was dead, she fell to licking my 
 finger, and she did purr away like a dolphin. One 
 of her eyes was out, where a stone had took her, 
 and she never got any use of it, but she used to 
 look at you so clever with the other, and she got 
 well of her lame foot after a while. I got to be 
 ter'ble fond of her. She was just the knowingest 
 thing you ever saw, and she used to sleep along-
 
 108 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 side of me in my bunk, and like as not she would 
 go on deck with me when it was my watch. I 
 was coasting then for a year and eight months, 
 and I kept her all the time. We used to be in 
 harbor consider'ble, and about eight o'clock in the 
 forenoon I used to drop a line and catch her a 
 couple of cunners. Now, it is cur' us that she 
 used to know when I was fishing for her. She 
 would pounce on them fish and carry them off and 
 growl, and she knew when I got a bite, she 'd 
 watch the line ; but when we were mackereling 
 she never give us any trouble. She would never 
 lift a paw to touch any of our fish. She did n't 
 have the thieving ways common to most cats. 
 She used to set round on deck in fair weather, 
 and when the wind blew she al'ays kept herself 
 below. Sometimes when we were in port she 
 would go ashore awhile, and fetch back a bird or 
 a mouse, but she would n't eat it till she come and 
 showed it to me. She never wanted to stop long 
 ashore, though I never shut her up; I always give 
 her her liberty. I got a good deal of joking about 
 her from the fellows, but she was a sight of com- 
 pany. I don' know as I ever had anything like 
 me as much as she did. Not to say as I ever 
 had much of any trouble with anybody, ashore or
 
 109 
 
 afloat. I 'm a still kiiid of fellow, for all I look so 
 rough. 
 
 " But then, I han't had a home, what I call a 
 home, since I was going on nine year old." 
 
 " How has that happened 1 " asked Kate. 
 
 " Well, mother, she died, and I was bound out 
 to a man in the tanning trade, and I hated him, 
 and I hated the trade ; and when 1 was a little 
 bigger I ran away, and I 've followed the sea ever 
 since. I was n't much use to him, I guess; least- 
 ways, he never took the trouble to hunt me up. 
 
 "About the best place I ever was in was a 
 hospital. It was in foreign parts. Ye see I 'm 
 crippled some 1 I fell from the topsail yard to the 
 deck, and I struck my shoulder, and broke my 
 leg, and banged myself all up. It was to a nuns' 
 hospital where they took me. All of the nuns 
 were Catholics, and they wore big white things on 
 their heads. I don't suppose you ever saw any. 
 Have you 1 ? Well, now, that's queer! When I 
 was first there I was scared of them ; they were 
 real ladies, and I was n't used to being in a house, 
 any way. One. of them, that took care of me most 
 of the time, why, she would even set up half the 
 night with me, and I could n't begin to tell you 
 how good-natured she was, an' she 'd look real
 
 110 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 sorry too. I used to be ugly, I ached so, along in 
 the first of my being there, but I spoke of it when 
 I was coining away, and she said it was all right. 
 She used to feed me, that lady did ; and there 
 were some days I could n't lift my head, and she 
 would rise it on her arm. She give me a little 
 mite of a book, when I come away. I 'm not much 
 of a hand at reading, but I always kept it on ac- 
 count of her. She was so pleased when I got so 's 
 to set up in a chair and look out of the window. 
 She wasn't much of a hand to talk English. I 
 did feel bad to come away from there ; I 'most 
 wished I could be sick a while longer. I never 
 said much of anything either, and I don't know 
 but she thought it was queer, but I am a dreadful 
 clumsy man to say anything, and I got flustered. 
 I don't know 's I mind telling you ; I was 'most 
 a-crying. I used to think I 'd lay by some money 
 and ship for there and carry her something real 
 pretty. But I don't rank able-bodied seaman like 
 I used, and it 's as much as 1 can do to get a berth 
 on a coaster ; I suppose I might go as cook. I 
 liked to have died with my hurt at that hospital, 
 but when I was getting well it made me think of 
 when I was a mite of a chap to home before mother 
 died, to be laying there in a clean bed with some-
 
 DANNY. Ill 
 
 body to do for me. Guess you think I 'm a good 
 hand to spin long yarns ; somehow it comes easy 
 to talk to-day." 
 
 " What became of your cat 1 " asked Kate, after 
 a pause, during which our friend sliced away at 
 the porgies. 
 
 " I never rightfully knew ; it was in Salem har- 
 bor, and a windy night. I was oil deck con- 
 sider'ble, for the schooner pitched lively, and once 
 or twice she dragged her anchor. I never saw the 
 kitty after she eat her supper. I remember I gave 
 her some milk, I used to buy her a pint once in 
 a while for a treat ; I don't know but she might 
 have gone off on a cake of ice, but it did seem as 
 if she had too much sense for that. Most likely 
 she missed her footing, and fell overboard in the 
 dark. She was marked real pretty, black and 
 white, and kep' herself just as clean ! She knew 
 as well as could be when foul weather was coming ; 
 she would bother round and act queer ; but when 
 the sun was out she would sit round on deck as 
 pleased as a queen. There ! I feel bad sometimes 
 when I think of her, and I never went into Salem 
 since without hoping that I should see her. I 
 don't know but if I was a-going to begin my life 
 over again, I 'd settle down ashore and have a snug
 
 112 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 little house and farm it. But I guess I shall do 
 better at fishing. Give me a trig-built topsail 
 schooner painted up nice, with a stripe on her, 
 and clean sails, and a fresh wind with the sun a- 
 shining, and T feel first-rate." 
 
 " Do you believe that codfish swallow stones 
 before a storm 1 " asked Kate. 1 had been think- 
 ing about the lonely fisherman in a sentimental 
 way, and so irrelevant a question shocked me. u I 
 saw he felt slightly embarrassed at having talked 
 about his affairs so much," Kate told me after- 
 ward, "and I thought we should leave him feeling 
 more at his ease if we talked about fish for a 
 while." And sure enough he did seem relieved, 
 and gave us his opinion about the codfish at once, 
 adding that he never cared much for cod any way ; 
 folks up country bought 'em a good deal, he heard. 
 Give him a haddock right out of the water for his 
 dinner ! 
 
 "I never can remember," said Kate, "whether 
 it is cod or haddock that have a black stripe along 
 their sides 
 
 " 0, those are haddock," said I ; " they say that 
 the Devil caught a haddock once, and it slipped 
 through his fingers and got scorched ; so all the 
 haddock had the same mark afterward."
 
 DANNY. 113 
 
 " Well, now, how did you know that old story 1 " 
 said Danny, laughing heartily; " ye must n't believe 
 all the old stories ye hear, mind ye ! " 
 
 " 0, no," said we. 
 
 " Hullo ! There 's Jim Toggerson's boat close 
 in shore. She sets low in the water, so he 's done 
 well. He and Skipper Scudder have been out 
 deep-sea fishing since yesterday." 
 
 Our friend pushed the porgies back into a cor- 
 ner, stuck his knife into a beam, and we hurried 
 down to the shore. Kate and I sat on the peb- 
 bles, and he went out to the moorings in a dirty 
 dory to help unload the fish. 
 
 We afterward saw a great deal of Danny, as all 
 the men called him. But though Kate and I tried 
 our best and used our utmost skill and tact to 
 make him tell us more about himself, he never 
 did. But perhaps there was nothing more to be 
 told. 
 
 The day we left Deephaven we went down to 
 the shore to say good by to him and to some other 
 friends, and he said, "Goin', are ye? Well, I'm 
 sorry ; ye 've treated me first-rate ; the Lord bless 
 ye ! " and then was so much mortified at the way 
 he had said farewell that he turned and fled round 
 the corner of the fish-house. 
 
 H
 
 CAPTAIN SANDS. 
 
 LD Captain Sands was one of the most 
 prominent citizens of Deephaven, and a 
 very good friend of Kate's and mine. 
 We often met him, and grew much interested in 
 him before we knew him well. He had a reputa- 
 tion in town for being peculiar and somewhat vision- 
 ary ; but every one seemed to like him, and at last 
 one morning, when we happened to be on our way 
 to the wharves, we stopped at the door of an old 
 warehouse which we had never seen opened before. 
 Captain Sands sat just inside, smoking his pipe, 
 and we said good morning, and asked him if he 
 did not think there was a fog coming in by and by. 
 We had thought a little of going out to the light- 
 house. The cap' n rose slowly, and came out so that 
 he .could see farther round to the east. " There 's 
 some scud coming in a'ready," said he. " None 
 to speak of yet, I don't know 's you can see it, 
 yes, you 're right ; there 's a heavy bank of fog
 
 CAPTAIN SANDS. 115 
 
 lyin' off, but it won't be in under two or three 
 hours yet, unless the wind backs round more and 
 freshens up. Were n't thinking of going out, were 
 
 yer 
 
 " A little," said Kate, "but we had nearly given 
 it up. We are getting to be very weather-wise, 
 and we pride ourselves on being quick at seeing 
 fogs." At which thecap'n smiled and said we were 
 consider'ble young to know much about weather, 
 but it looked well that we took some interest in 
 it ; most young people were fools about weather, 
 and would just as soon set off to go anywhere right 
 under the edge of a thunder-shower. u Come in 
 and set down, won't ye 1 " he added ; " it ain't 
 much of a place ; I 've got a lot of old stuff stowed 
 away here that the women-folks don't want up to 
 the house. I 'm a great hand for keeping things." 
 And he looked round fondly at the contents of the 
 wide low room. " I come down here once in a 
 while and let in the sun, and sometimes I want to 
 hunt up something or 'nother ; kind of stow-away 
 place, ye see." And then he laughed apologetically, 
 rubbing his hands together, and looking out to 
 sea again as if he wished to appear unconcerned ; 
 yet we saw that he wondered if we thought it 
 ridiculous for a mail of his age to have treasured
 
 116 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 up so much trumpery 7 in that cobwebby place. 
 There were some whole oars and the sail of his 
 boat and two or three killicks and painters, not to 
 forget a heap of worn-out oars and sails in one 
 corner and a sailor's hammock slung across the 
 beam overhead, and there were some sailor's chests 
 and the capstan of a ship and innumerable boxes 
 which all seemed to be stuffed full, besides no end 
 of things lying on the floor and packed away on 
 shelves and hanging to rusty big-headed nails in 
 the wall. I saw some great lumps of coral, and 
 large, rough shells, a great hornet's nest, and a 
 monstrous lobster-shell. The cap'n had cobbled 
 and tied up some remarkable old chairs for the 
 accommodation of himself and his friends. 
 
 " What a nice place ! " said Kate in a frank, 
 delighted way which could not have failed to be 
 gratifying. 
 
 " Well, no," said the cap'n, w r ith his slow smile, 
 " it ain't what you 'd rightly call 'nice,' as I know 
 of : it ain't never been cleared out all at once since 
 I began putting in. There 's nothing that 's 
 worth anything, either, to anybody but me. Wife, 
 she 's said to me a hundred times, ' Why don't 
 you overhaul them old things and burn 'em 1 ' 
 She 's al'ays at me about letting the property, as
 
 CAPTAIN SANDS. 117 
 
 if it were a corner-lot in Broadway. That's all 
 women-folks know about business ! " And here the 
 captain caught himself tripping, and looked uneasy 
 for a minute. " I suppose I might have let it for 
 a fish-house, but it 's most too far from the shore 
 to be handy and well there are some 
 things here that I set a good deal by." 
 
 " Is n't that a sword-fish's sword in that piece 
 of wood 1 " Kate asked presently ; and was an- 
 swered that it was found broken off as we saw 
 it, in the hull of a wreck that went ashore on 
 Blue P'int when the captain was a young man, 
 and he had sawed it out and kept it ever since, 
 fifty-nine years. Of course we went closer to 
 look at it, and we both felt a great sympathy for 
 this friend of ours, because we have the same 
 fashion of keeping worthless treasures, and we un- 
 derstood perfectly how dear such things may be. 
 
 " Do you mind if we look round a little 1 " I 
 asked doubtfully, for I knew how I should hate 
 having strangers look over my own treasury. But 
 Captain Sands looked pleased at our interest, and 
 said cheerfully that we might overhaul as much 
 as we chose. Kate discovered first an old battered 
 wooden figure-head of a ship, a woman's head 
 with long curly hair falling over the shoulders.
 
 118 DEEPHAVEX. 
 
 The paint was almost gone, and the dust covered 
 most of what was left : still there was a wonderful 
 spirit and grace, and a wild, weird beauty which 
 attracted us exceedingly ; but the captain could 
 only tell us that it had belonged to the wreck of 
 a Danish brig which had been driven on the reef 
 where the lighthouse stands now, and his father 
 had found this on the long sands a day or two 
 afterward. " That was a dreadful storm," said 
 the captain. " I 've heard the old folks tell about 
 it ; it was when I was only a year or two old. 
 There were three merchantmen wrecked within 
 five miles of Deephaven. This one was all stove 
 to splinters, and they used to say she had treasure 
 aboard. When I was small I used to have a great 
 idea of going out there to the rocks at low water 
 and trying to find some gold, but I never made 
 out no great." And he smiled indulgently at the 
 thought of his youthful dream. 
 
 " Kate," said I, " do you see what beauties these 
 Turk's-head knots are 1 " We had been taking a 
 course of first lessons in knots from Danny, and 
 had followed by learning some charmingly intri- 
 cate ones from Captain Laut, the stranded mariner 
 who lived on a farm two miles or so inland. Kate 
 came over to look at the Turk's-heads, which were
 
 CAPTAIN SANDS. 119 
 
 at either end of the rope handles of a little dark- 
 blue chest. 
 
 Captain Sands turned in his chair and nodded 
 approval. " That 's a neat piece of work, and it 
 was a first-rate seaman who did it ; he 's dead and 
 gone years ago, poor young fellow ; an I-talian 
 he was, who sailed on the Ranger three or four 
 long voyages. He fell from the mast-head on the 
 voyage home from Callao. Cap'n Manning and 
 old Mr. Lorimer, they owned the Ranger, and 
 when she come into port and they got the news 
 they took it as much to heart as if he 'd been 
 some relation. He was smart as a whip, and had 
 a way with him, and the pleasantest kind of a 
 voice; you couldn't help liking him. They found 
 out that he had a mother alive in Port Mahon, 
 and they sent his pay and some money he had in 
 the bank at Riverport out to her by a ship that 
 was going to the Mediterranean. He had some 
 clothes in his chest, and they sold those and sent 
 her the money, all but some trinkets they sup- 
 posed he was keeping for her ; I rec'lect he used 
 to speak consider'ble about his mother. I shipped 
 one v'y'ge with him before the mast, before I went 
 out mate of the Daylight. I happened to be in 
 port the time the Ranger got in, an' I see this chist
 
 120 DEEPIIAVEX. 
 
 lying round in Cap'n Manning's storehouse, and I 
 offered to give him what it was worth ; but we was 
 good friends, and he told me take it if I wanted it, 
 it was no use to him, and I 've kept it ever since. 
 
 "There are some of his traps in it now, I believe; 
 ye can look." And we took oft' some tangled cod- 
 lines and opened the chest. There was only a round 
 wooden box in the till, and in some idle hour at 
 sea the young sailor had carved his initials and an 
 anchor and the date on the cover. We found 
 some sail-needles and a palm in this " kit," as the 
 sailors call it, and a little string of buttons with 
 some needles and yarn and thread in a neat little 
 bag, which perhaps his mother had made for him 
 when he started off on his first voyage. Besides 
 these things there was only a fanciful little broken 
 buckle, green and gilt, which he might have picked 
 up in some foreign street, and his protection- 
 paper carefully folded, wherein he was certified as 
 being a citizen of the United States, with dark 
 complexion and dark hair. 
 
 " He was one of the pleasantest fellows that 
 ever I shipped with," said the captain, with a gruff 
 tenderness in his voice. "Always willin' to do his 
 work himself, and like 's not when the other fel- 
 lows up the rigging were cold, or ugly about some-
 
 CAPTAIN SANDS. 121 
 
 thing or 'nother, he 'd say something that would 
 set them all laughing, and somehow it made you 
 good-natured to see him round. He was brought 
 up a Catholic, I s'pose ; anyway, he had some beads, 
 and sometimes they would joke him about 'em on 
 board ship, but he would blaze up in a minute, 
 ugly as a tiger. I never saw him mad about any- 
 thing else, though he would n't stand it if anybody 
 tried to crowd him. He fell from the main-to'- 
 gallant yard to the deck, and was dead when they 
 picked him up. They were off the Bermudas. I 
 suppose he lost his balance, but I never could see 
 ho\v; he was sure-footed, and as quick as a cat. 
 They said they saw him try to catch at the stay, 
 but there was a heavy sea running, and the ship 
 rolled just so 's to let him through between the 
 rigging, and he struck the deck like a stone. I 
 don't know 's that chest has been opened these 
 ten years, I declare it carries me back to look 
 at those poor little traps of his. Well, it 's the way 
 of the world ; we think we 're somebody, and we 
 have our day, but it is n't long afore we 're for- 
 gotten." 
 
 The captain reached over for the paper, and 
 taking out a clumsy pair of steel-bowed spectacles, 
 read it through carefully. " I '11 warrant he took
 
 122 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 good care of this," said he. " He was an I-talian, 
 and no more of an American citizen than a Chinese ; 
 I wonder he had n't called himself John Jones, 
 that 's the name most of the foreigners used to take 
 when they got their papers. I remember once I 
 was sick with a fever in Chelsea Hospital, and one 
 morning they came bringing in the mate of a Por- 
 tugee brig on a stretcher, and the surgeon asked 
 what his name was. 'John Jones,' says he. '0, 
 say something else,' says the surgeon ; 'we've got 
 five John Joneses here a'ready, and it 's getting 
 to be no name at all.' Sailors are great hands for 
 false names ; they have a trick of using them when 
 they have any money to leave ashore, for fear their 
 shipmates will go and draw it out. I suppose there 
 are thousands of dollars unclaimed in New York 
 banks, where men have left it charged to their 
 false names ; then they get lost at sea or some- 
 thing, and never go to get it, and nobody knows 
 whose it is. They 're curious folks, take 'em alto- 
 gether, sailors is ; specially these foreign fellows 
 that wander about from ship to ship. They 're 
 getting to be a dreadful low set, too, of late years. 
 It 's the last thing I 'd want a boy of mine to do, 
 ship before the mast with one of these mixed 
 crews. It 's a dog's life, anyway, and the risks and
 
 CAPTAIN SANDS. 123 
 
 the chances against you are awful. It 's a good 
 while before you can lay up anything, unless you 
 are part owner. I saw all the p'iuts a good deal 
 plainer after I quit followin' the sea myself, though 
 I Ve always been more or less into navigation until 
 this last war come on. I know when I was ship's 
 husband of the Polly and Susan there was a young 
 man went out cap'n of her, her last voyage, and 
 she never was heard from. He had a wife and two 
 or three little children, and for all he was so smart, 
 they would have been about the same as beggars, 
 if I had n't happened to have his life insured the 
 day I was having the papers made out for the 
 ship. I happened to think of it. Five thousand 
 dollars there was, and I sent it to the widow along 
 with his primage. She had n't expected nothing, 
 or next to nothing, and she was pleased, I tell ye." 
 " I think it was very kind in you to think of 
 that, Captain Sands," said Kate. And the old man 
 said, flushing a little, " Well, I 'm not so smart as 
 some of the men who started when I did, and 
 some of 'em went ahead of me, but some of 'em 
 did n't, after all. I 've tried to be honest, and 
 to do just about as nigh right as I could, and you 
 know there 's an old say in' that a cripple in the 
 right road will beat a racer in the wrong."
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 
 
 ATE and I looked forward to a certain 
 Saturday with as much eagerness as if 
 we had been little school-boys, for on that 
 day. we were to go to a circus at Denby, a town 
 perhaps eight miles inland. There had not been 
 a circus so near Deephaven for a long time, and 
 nobody had dared to believe the first rumor of it, 
 uutil two dashing young men had deigned to come 
 themselves to put up the big posters on the end 
 of 'Bijah Mauley's barn. All the boys in town 
 came as soon as possible to see these amazing 
 pictures, and some were wretched in their secret 
 hearts at the thought that they might not see the 
 show itself. Tommy Dockum was more interested 
 than any one else, and mentioned the subject so 
 frequently one day when he went blackberryiug 
 with us, that we grew enthusiastic, and told each 
 other what fun it would be to go. for everybody 
 would be there, and it would be the greatest loss
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 125 
 
 to us if we were absent. I thought I had lost my 
 childish fondness for circuses, but it came back 
 redoubled ; and Ktite may contradict me if she 
 chooses, but I am sure she never looked forward 
 to the Easter Oratorio with half the pleasure 
 uhe did to this " caravan," as most of the people 
 called it. 
 
 We felt that it was a great pity that any of the 
 boys and girls should be left lamenting at home, 
 and finding that there were some of our acquaint- 
 ances and Tommy's who saw no chance of going, 
 we engaged Jo Sands and Leander Dockmn to 
 carry them to Denby in two fish-wagons, with 
 boards laid across for the extra seats. We saw 
 them join the straggling train of carriages which 
 had begun to go through the village from all along 
 shore, soon after daylight, and they started on 
 their journey shouting and carousing, with their 
 pockets crammed with early apples and other 
 provisions. W^e thought it would have been fun 
 enough to soe the people go by, for we had had no 
 idea until then how many inhabitants that coun- 
 try held. 
 
 We had asked Mrs. Kew to go with us; but she 
 was half an hour later than she had promised, for, 
 since there was no wind, she could not come ashore
 
 126 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 in the sail-boat, and Mr. Kew had had to row her 
 in in the dory. We saw the boat at last nearly 
 in shore, and drove down to meet it : even the 
 horse seemed to realize what a great day it was, 
 and showed a disposition to friskiness, evidently 
 as surprising to himself as to us. 
 
 Mrs. Kew was funnier that day than we had 
 ever known her, which is saying a great deal, and 
 we should not have had half so good a time if she 
 had not been with us ; although she lived in the 
 lighthouse, and had no chance to " see passing," 
 which a woman prizes so highly in the country, 
 she had a wonderful memory for faces, and could 
 tell us the names of all Deephaveners and of most 
 of the people we met outside its limits. She 
 looked impressed and solemn as she hurried up 
 from the water's edge, giving Mr. Kew some part- 
 ing charges over her shoulder as he pushed off 
 the boat to go back ; but after we had convinced 
 her that the delay had not troubled us, she seemed 
 niore cheerful. It was evident that she felt the 
 importance of the occasion, and that she was 
 pleased at our having chosen her for company. 
 She threw back her veil entirely, sat very straight, 
 and took immense pains to bow to every acquaint- 
 ance whom she met. She wore her best Sunday
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 127 
 
 clothes, and her manner was formal for the first 
 few minutes ; it was evident that she felt we were 
 meeting imder unusual circumstances, and that, 
 although we had often met before on the friend- 
 liest terms, our having asked her to make this 
 excursion in public required a different sort of 
 behavior at her hands* and a due amount of cere- 
 mony and propriety. But this state of things did 
 not last long, as she soon made a remark at which 
 Kate and I laughed so heartily in lighthouse-ac- 
 quaintance fashion, that she unbent, and gave her 
 whole mind to enjoying herself. 
 
 When we came by the store where the post- 
 office was kept we saw a small knot of people 
 gathered round the door, and stopped to see what 
 had happened. There was a forlorn horse stand- 
 ing near, with his harness tied up with fuzzy ends 
 of rope, and the wagon was cobbled together with 
 pieces of board ; the whole craft looked as if it 
 might be wrecked with the least jar. In the 
 wagon were four or five stupid-looking boys and 
 girls, one of whom was crying softly. Their father 
 was sick, some one told us. "He was took faint, 
 but he is coming to all right ; they have give 
 him something to take : their name is Craper, and 
 they live way over beyond the Ridge, on Stone
 
 128 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 Hill. They were goin' over to Denby to the cir- 
 cus, and the man was calc'lating to get doctored, 
 but I d' know 's he can get so fur ; he 's powerful 
 slim looking to me." Kate and I went to see if 
 we could be of any use, and when we went into 
 the store we saw the man leaning back in his 
 chair, looking ghastly pale, 'and as if he were far 
 gone in consumption. Kate spoke to him, and he 
 said he was better ; he had felt bad all the way 
 along, but he had n't given up. He was pitiful, 
 poor fellow, with his evident attempt at dressing 
 up. He had the bushiest, dustiest red hair and 
 whiskers, which made the pallor of his face still 
 more striking, and his illness had thinned and 
 paled his rough, clumsy hands. I thought what a 
 hard piece of work it must have been for him to 
 start for the circus that morning, and how kind- 
 hearted he must be to have made such an effort 
 for his children's pleasure. As we went out they 
 stared at us gloomily. The shadow of their disap- 
 pointment touched and chilled our pleasure. 
 
 Somebody had turned the horse so that he 
 was heading toward home, and by his actions he 
 showed that he was the only one of the party who 
 was glad. We were so sorry for the children ; 
 perhaps it had promised to be the happiest day of
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 129 
 
 their lives, and now they must g % o back to their 
 uninteresting home without having seen the great 
 show. 
 
 " I am so sorry you are disappointed," said Kate, 
 as we were wondering how the man who had fol- 
 lowed us could ever climb into the wagon. 
 
 " Heh 1 " said he, blankly, as if he did not know 
 what her words meant. " What fool has been a 
 turning o' this horse 1 " he asked a man who was 
 looking on. 
 
 " Why, which way be ye goiri' ? " 
 
 " To the circus," said Mr. Craper, with decision, 
 " where d' ye s'pose 1 That 's where I started for, 
 anyways." And he climbed in and glanced round to 
 count the children, struck the horse with the willow 
 switch, and they started off briskly, while every- 
 body laughed. Kate and I joined Mrs. Kew, who 
 had enjoyed the scene. 
 
 " Well, there ! " said she, " I wonder the folks 
 in the old North burying-ground ain't a-rising up 
 to go to Denby to that caravan ! " 
 
 We reached Denby at noon \ it was an unin- 
 teresting town which had grown up around some 
 mills. There was a great commotion in the streets, 
 and it was evident that we had lost much in not 
 having seen the procession. There was a great
 
 130 DEEP HAY EN. 
 
 deal of business going on in the shops, and there 
 were two or three hand-organs at large, near one 
 of which we stopped awhile to listen, just after 
 we had met Leander and given the horse into his 
 charge. Mrs. Kew finished her shopping as soon 
 as possible, and we hurried toward the great tents, 
 where all the flags were flying. I think I have 
 not told you that we were to have the benefit of 
 seeing a menagerie in addition to the circus, <md 
 you may be sure we went faithfully round to see 
 everything that the cages held. 
 
 I cannot truthfully say that it was a good 
 show ; it was somewhat dreary, now that I think 
 of it quietly and without excitement. The crea- 
 tures looked tired, and as if they had been on the 
 road for a great many years. The animals were all 
 old, and there was a shabby great elephant whose 
 look of general discouragement went to my heart, 
 for it seemed as if he were miserably conscious of 
 a misspent life. He stood dejected and motionless 
 at one side of the tent, and it was hard to believe 
 that there was a spark of vitality left in him. A 
 great number of the people had never seen an ele- 
 phant before, and we heard a thin little old man, 
 who stood near us, say delightedly, " There 's the 
 old creatur', and no mistake, Ann 'Liza. I wanted
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENEY. 131 
 
 to see him most of anything. My sakes alive, 
 ain't he big ! " 
 
 And Ann 'Liza, who was stout and sleepy-look- 
 ing, droned out, " Ye-es, there 's consider'ble of 
 him ; but he looks as if he ain't got no animation." 
 
 Kate and I turned away and laughed, while 
 Mrs. Kew said confidentially, as the couple moved 
 away, "She needn't be a reflectin' on the poor 
 beast. That 's Mis Seth Tanner, and there is n't 
 a woman in Deephaven nor East Parish to be 
 named the same day with her for laziness. I 'm 
 glad she did n't catch sight of me ; she 'd have 
 talked about nothing for a fortnight." 
 
 There was a picture of a huge snake in Deep- 
 haven, and I was just wondering where he could 
 be, or if there ever had been one, when we heard 
 a boy ask the same question of the man whose 
 thankless task it was to stir up the lions with a 
 stick to make them roar. " The snake 's dead," 
 he answered good-naturedly. " Did n't you have 
 to dig an awful long grave for him ? " asked the 
 boy ; but the man said he reckoned they curled 
 him up some, and smiled as he turned to his lions, 
 who looked as if they needed a tonic. Every- 
 body lingered longest before the monkeys, who 
 seemed to be the only lively creatures in the
 
 132 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 whole collection ; and finally we made our way 
 into the other tent, and perched ourselves on a 
 high seat, from whence we had a capital view of 
 the audience and the ring, and could see the peo- 
 ple come in. Mrs. Kew was on the lookout for 
 acquaintances, and her spirits as well as our own 
 seemed to rise higher and higher. She was on 
 the alert, moving her head this way and that to 
 catch sight of people, giving us a running com- 
 mentary in the mean time. It was very pleasant 
 to see a person so happy as Mrs. Kew was that 
 day, and I dare say in speaking of the occasion 
 she would say the same thing of Kate and me, 
 for it was such a good time ! We bought some 
 peanuts, without which no circus seems complete, 
 and we listened to the conversations which were 
 being carried on around us while we were wait- 
 ing for the performance to begin. There were 
 two old farmers whom we had noticed occasionally 
 in Deephaven ; one was telling the other, with 
 great confusion of pronouns, about a big pig 
 which had lately been killed. "John did feel 
 dreadful disappointed at having to kill now," we 
 heard him say, " bein' as he had calc'lated to kill 
 along near Thanksgivin' time ; there was goin' to 
 be a new moon then, and he expected to get sev-
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 133 
 
 enty-five or a hundred pound more on to him. 
 But he did n't seem to gain, and me and 'Bijah 
 both told him he 'd be better to kill now, while 
 everything was favor'ble, and if he set out to 
 wait something might happen to him, and then 
 I 've always held that you can't get no hog only 
 just so fur, and for my part I don't like these great 
 overgrown creatur's. I like well enough to see a 
 hog that '11 weigh six hunderd, just for the beauty 
 on 't, but for my eatin' give me one that '11 just 
 rise three. 'Bijah 's accurate, and he says he is 
 goin' to weigh risin' five hundred and fifty. I 
 shall stop, as I go home, to John's wife's broth- 
 er's and see if they 've got the particulars yet ; 
 John was goin' to get the scales this morning. I 
 guess likely consider' ble many '11 gather there to- 
 morrow after meeting. John did n't calc'late to 
 cut up till Monday." 
 
 " I guess likely I '11 stop in to-morrow," said 
 the other man ; " I like to see a hau'some hog. 
 Chester White, you said 1 Consider them best, 
 don't ye ] " But this question never was an- 
 swered, for the greater part of the circus company 
 in gorgeous trappings came parading in. 
 
 The circus was like all other circuses, except that 
 it was shabbier than most, and the performers
 
 1 34: DEEPIIA YEN. 
 
 seemed to have less heart in it than usual. They 
 did their best, and went through with their parts 
 conscientiously, but they looked as if they never 
 had had a good time in their lives. The audience 
 was hilarious, and cheered and laughed at the tired 
 clown until he looked as if he thought his speeches 
 might possibly be funny, after all. We were so 
 glad we had pleased the poor thing ; and when he 
 sang a song our satisfaction was still greater, and 
 so he sang it all over again. Perhaps he had been 
 associating with people who were used to circuses. 
 The afternoon was hot, and the boys with Japanese 
 fans and trays of lemonade did a remarkable busi- 
 ness for so late in the season ; the brass band on 
 the other side of the tent shrieked its very best, 
 and all the young men of the region had brought 
 their girls, and some of these countless pairs of 
 country lovers we watched a great deal, as they 
 " kept company " with more or less depth of satis- 
 faction in each other. We had a grand chance to 
 see the fashions, and there were many old people 
 and a great number of little children, and some 
 families had evidently locked their house door 
 behind them, since they had brought both the dog 
 and the baby. 
 
 " Does n't it seem as if you were a child again 1 "
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DEN BY. 135 
 
 Kate asked me. " I am sure this is just the 
 same as the first circus I ever saw. It grows 
 more and more familiar, and it puzzles me to 
 think they should not have altered in the least 
 while I have changed so much, and have even^had 
 time to grow up. You don't know how it is making 
 me remember other things of which I have not 
 thought for years. I was seven years old when 
 I went that first time. Uncle Jack invited me. T 
 had a new parasol, and he laughed because I would 
 hold it over my shoulder when the sun was in my 
 face. He took me into the side-shows and bought 
 me everything I asked for, on the way home, and 
 we did not get home until twilight. The rest of 
 the family had dined at four o'clock and gone out 
 for a long drive, and it was such fun to have our 
 dinner by ourselves. I sat at the head of the 
 table in mamma's place, and when Bridget came 
 down and insisted that I must go to bed, Uncle 
 Jack came softly up stairs and sat by the window, 
 smoking and telling me stories. He ran and hid 
 in the closet when we heard mamma coming up, 
 and when she found him out by the cigar-smoke, 
 and made believe scold him, I thought she was in 
 earnest, and begged him off. Yes ; and I remem- 
 ber that Bridget sat in the next room, making her
 
 136 DEEPUAVEN. 
 
 new dress so she could wear it to church next day. 
 I thought it was a beautiful dress, and besought 
 mamma to have one like it. It was bright green 
 with yellow spots all over it," said Kate. " Ah, 
 poor Uncle Jack ! he was so good to me ! We 
 were always telling stories of what we would do 
 when I was grown up. He died in Canton the 
 next year, and I cried myself ill ; but for a long 
 time I thought he might not be dead, after all, and 
 might come home any day. He used to seem so 
 old to me, and he really was just out of college and 
 not so old as I am now. That day at the circus 
 he had a pink rosebud in his buttonhole, and 
 ah ! when have I ever thought of this before ! a 
 woman sat before us who had a stiff little cape on 
 her bonnet like a shelf, and I carefully put peanuts 
 round the edge of it, and when she moved her 
 head they would fall. I thought it was the best 
 fun in the world, and I wished Uncle Jack to ride 
 the donkey ; I was sure he could keep on, because 
 his horse had capered about with him one day on 
 Beacon Street, and I thought him a perfect rider, 
 since nothing had happened to him then." 
 
 " I remember," said Mrs. Kew, presently, " that 
 just before I was married ' he ' took me over to 
 Wareham Corners to a caravan. My sister Han-
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 137 
 
 nah and the young man who was keeping company 
 with her went too. I have n't been to one since 
 till to-day, and it does carry me back same's it 
 does you, Miss Kate. It does n't seem more than 
 five years ago, and what would I have thought if 
 I had known ' he ' and I were going to keep a light- 
 house and be contented there, what 's more, and 
 sometimes not get ashore for a fortnight ; settled, 
 gray-headed old folks ! We were gay enough in 
 those days. I know old Miss Sabrina Smith warned 
 me that I 'd better think twice before I took up 
 with Tom Kew, for he was a light-minded young 
 man. I speak o' that to him in the winter-time, 
 when he sets reading the almanac half asleep and 
 I 'm knitting, and the wind's a' howling and the 
 waves coming ashore on those rocks as if they 
 wished they could put out the light and blow down 
 the lighthouse. We were reflected on a good deal 
 for going to that caravan ; some of the old folks 
 didn't think it was improvin' Well, I should 
 think that man was a trying to break his neck ! " 
 
 Coming out of the great tent was disagreeable 
 enough, and we seemed to have chosen the worst 
 time, for the crowd pushed fiercely, though I sup- 
 pose nobody was in the least hurry, and we were 
 all severely jammed, while from somewhere under-
 
 138 DEEPIIAVEtf. 
 
 "neath came the wails of a deserted dog. We had 
 not meant to see the side-shows, and went care- 
 lessly past two or three tents ; but when we came 
 in sight of the picture of the Kentucky giantess, 
 we noticed that Mrs. Kew looked at it wistfully, 
 and we immediately asked if she cared anything 
 about going to see the wonder, whereupon she con- 
 fessed that she never heard of such a thing as a 
 woman's weighing six hundred and fifty pounds, 
 so we all three went in. There were only two 
 or three persons inside the tent, beside a little boy 
 who played the hand-organ. 
 
 The Kentucky giantess sat in two chairs on a 
 platform, and there was a large cage of monkeys 
 just beyond, toward which Kate and I went at 
 once. " Why, she is n't more than two thirds as 
 big as the picture," said Mrs. Kew, in a regretful 
 whisper ; " but I guess she 's big enough ; does n't 
 she look discouraged, poor creatur' 3 " Kate and 
 I felt ashamed of ourselves for being there. No 
 matter if she had consented to be carried round 
 for a show, it must have been horrible to be stared 
 at and joked about day after day ; and we gravely 
 looked at the monkeys, and in a few minutes 
 turned to see if Mrs. Kew were not ready to come 
 away, when to our surprise we saw that she was
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DEN BY. 139 
 
 talking to the giantess with great interest, and we 
 went nearer. 
 
 " I thought your face looked natural the min- 
 ute I set foot inside the door," said Mrs. Kew ; 
 " but you've altered some since I saw you, and 
 I could n't place you till I heard you speak. Why, 
 .you used to be spare ; I am amazed, Marilly ! 
 Where are your folks ? " 
 
 " I don't wonder you are surprised," said the 
 giantess. " I was a good ways from this when you 
 knew me, wasn't I] But father he run through 
 with every cent he had before he died, and 'he' took 
 to drink and it killed him after a while, and then 
 I begun to grow worse and worse, till I could n't 
 do nothing to earn a dollar, and everybody was a 
 coming to see me, till at last I used to ask 'em 
 ten cents apiece, and I scratched along somehow 
 till this man came round and heard of me, and he 
 offered me my keep and good pay to go along with 
 him. He had another giantess before me, but she 
 had begun to fall away consider'ble, so he paid 
 her off and let her go. This other giantess was 
 an awful expense to him, she was such an eater ; 
 now I don't have no great of an appetite," this 
 was said plaintively, " and he's raised my pay 
 since 1 've been with him because we did so well.
 
 140 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 I took up with his offer because I was nothing 
 but a drag and never will be. I 'm as comfortable 
 as I can be, but it 's a pretty hard business. My 
 oldest boy is able to do for himself, but he 's mar- 
 ried this last year, and his wife don't want me. I 
 don't know's I blame her either. It would be 
 something like if I had a daughter now ; but there, 
 I 'm getting to like travelling first-rate ; it gives 
 anybody a good deal to think of." 
 
 " I was asking the folks about you when I was 
 up home the early part of the summer," said Mrs. 
 Kew, " but all they knew was that you were living 
 out in New York State. Have you been living in 
 Kentucky long ] I saw it on the picture outside." 
 
 " No," said the giantess, " that was a picture 
 the man bought cheap from another show that 
 broke up last year. It says six hundred and fifty 
 pounds, but I don't weigh more than four hundred. 
 I have n't been weighed for some time past. Be- 
 tween you and me I don't weigh so much as that, 
 but you must n't mention it, for it would spoil my 
 reputation, and might hender my getting another 
 engagement." And then the poor giantess lost 
 her professional look and tone as she said, " I be- 
 lieve I 'd rather die than grow any bigger. I do 
 lose heart sometimes, and wish I was a smart wo-
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 141 
 
 man and could keep house. I 'd be smarter than 
 ever I was when I had the chance j I tell you 
 that ! Is Tom along with you 1 " 
 
 " No. I came with these young ladies, Miss 
 Lancaster and Miss Denis, who are stopping over 
 to Deephaven for the summer." Kate and I 
 turned as we heard this introduction ; we were 
 standing close by, and I am proud to say that I 
 never saw Kate treat any one more politely than 
 she did that absurd, pitiful creature with the gilt 
 crown and many bracelets. It was not that she 
 said much, but there was such an exquisite cour- 
 tesy in her manner, and an apparent unconscious- 
 ness of there being anything in the least surprising 
 or uncommon about the giantess. 
 
 Just then a party of people came in, and Mrs. 
 Kew said good by reluctantly. " It has done me 
 sights of good to see you," said our new acquaint- 
 ance ; " I was feeling down-hearted just before you 
 came in. I 'm pleased to see somebody that 
 remembers me as I used to be." And they shook 
 hands in a way that meant a great deal, and when 
 Kate and I said good afternoon the giantess looked 
 at us gratefully, and said, " I 'm very much obliged 
 to you for coming in, young ladies." 
 
 " Walk in ! walk in ! " the man was shouting
 
 142 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 as we came away. " Walk in and sec the wonder 
 of the world, ladies and gentlemen, the largest 
 woman ever seen in America, the great Ken- 
 tucky giantess ! " 
 
 "Wouldn't you have liked to stay longer]" 
 Kate asked Mrs. Kew as we came down the street. 
 But she answered that it would be no satisfaction ; 
 the people were coming in, and she would have no 
 chance to talk. " I never knew her very well ; she 
 is younger than I, and she used to go to meeting 
 where 1 did, but she lived five or six miles from our 
 house. She 's had a hard time of it, according to her 
 account," said Mrs. Kew. " She used to be a dread- 
 ful flighty, high-tempered girl, but she 's lost that 
 now, I can see by her eyes. I was running over in 
 my mind to see if there was anything I could do for 
 her, but I don't know as there is. She said the man 
 who hired her was kind. I guess your treating her 
 so polite did her as much good as anything. She 
 used to be real ambitious. I had it on my tongue's 
 end to ask her if she could n't get a few days' 
 leave and come out to stop with me, but I thought 
 just in time that she 'd sink the dory in a minute. 
 There ! seeing her has took away all the fun," said 
 Mrs. Kew ruefully : and we were all dismal for a 
 while, but at last, after we were fairly started for 
 Louie, wu begun to be merry again.
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DEXBY. 143 
 
 "VVe passed the Craper family whom we had seen 
 at the store in the morning ; the children looked 
 as stupid as ever, but the father, I am sorry to say, 
 had been tempted to drink more whiskey than 
 was good for him. He had a bright flush on his 
 cheeks, and he was nourishing his whip, and 
 hoarsely singing some meaningless tune. " Poor 
 creature ! " said I, " I should think this day's 
 pleasuring would kill him." " Now, would n't you 
 think so 1 ?" said Mrs. Kew, sympathizingly ; "but 
 the truth is, you could n't kill one of those Cra- 
 pers if you pounded him in a mortar." 
 
 We had a pleasant drive home, and we kept 
 Mrs. Kew to supper, and afterward went down to 
 the shore to see her set sail for home. Mr. Kew 
 had come in some time before, and had been wait- 
 ing for the moon to rise. Mrs. Kew told us that 
 she should have enough to think of for a year, she 
 had enjoyed the day so much ; and we stood on 
 the pebbles watching the boat out of the harbor, 
 and wishing ourselves on board, it was such a 
 beautiful evening. 
 
 We went to another show that summer, the 
 memory of which will never fade. It is some- 
 what impertinent to call it a show, and " public
 
 144 DEEP HA VEX. 
 
 entertainment " is equally inappropriate, though 
 \ve certainly were entertained. It had been rain- 
 ing for two or three days ; the Deephavenites 
 spoke of it as " a spell of weather." Just after 
 tea, one Thursday evening, Kate and I went down 
 to the post-office. "When we opened the great hall 
 door, the salt air was delicious, but we found the 
 town apparently wet through and discouraged ; 
 and though it had almost stopped raining just 
 then, there was a Scotch mist, like a snow-storm 
 with the chill taken off, and the Chantrey elnre 
 dripped hurriedly, and creaked occasionally in the 
 east-wind. 
 
 " There will not be a cap'n on the wharves for 
 a week after this," said I to Kate ; " only think 
 of the cases of rheumatism ! " 
 
 We stopped for a few minutes at the Carews', 
 who were as much surprised to see t*s as if we had 
 been mermaids out of the sea, and begged us to 
 give ourselves something warm to drink, and to 
 change our boots the moment we got home. Then 
 we went on to the post-office. Kate went in, but 
 stopped, as she came out with our letters, to read 
 a written notice securely fastened to the grocery 
 door by four large carpet-tacks with wide leathers 
 round their necks.
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBT. 145 
 
 " Dear," said she, exultantly, " there 's going to 
 be a lecture to-night in the church, a free lecture 
 on the Elements of True Manhood. Would n't 
 you like to go 1 " And we went. 
 
 We were fifteen minutes later than the time 
 appointed, and were sorry to find that the audi- 
 ence was almost imperceptible. The dampness 
 had affected the antiquated lamps so that those 
 on the walls and on the front of the gallery were 
 the dimmest lights I ever saw, and sent their fee- 
 ble rays through a small space the edges of which 
 were clearly defined. There were two rather more 
 energetic lights on the table near the pulpit, 
 where the lecturer sat, and as we were in the rear 
 of the church, we could see the yellow fog between 
 ourselves and him. There were fourteen persons 
 in the audience, and we were all huddled together 
 in a cowardly way in the pews nearest the door : 
 three old men, four women, and four children, 
 besides ourselves and the sexton, a deaf little old 
 man with a wooden leg. 
 
 The children whispered noisily, and soon, to 
 our surprise, the lecturer rose and began. He 
 bowed, and treated us with beautiful deference, 
 and read his dreary lecture with enthusiasm. I 
 wish I could say, for his sake, that it was interest- 
 7 j
 
 146 DEEPIIAVEX. 
 
 ing ; but I cannot tell a lie, and it was so long ! 
 He went on and on, until it seemed as if I had been 
 there ever since I was a little girl. Kate and I 
 did not dare to look at each other, and in my des- 
 peration at feeling her quiver with laughter, I 
 moved to the other end of the pew, knocking: over 
 a big hymn-book on the way, which attracted so 
 much attention that I have seldom felt more em- 
 barrassed in my life. Kate's great dog rose several 
 times to shake himself and yawn loudly, and then 
 lie down again despairingly. 
 
 You would have thought the man was address- 
 ing an enthusiastic Young Men's Christian Asso- 
 ciation. He exhorted with fervor upon our duties 
 as citizens and as voters, and told us a great deal 
 about George Washington and Benjamin Franklin, 
 whom he urged us to choose as our examples. He 
 waited for applause after each of his outbursts of 
 eloquence, and presently went on again, in no wise 
 disconcerted at the silence, and as if he were sure 
 that he would fetch us next. time. The rain began 
 to fall again heavily, and the wind wailed around 
 the meeting-house. If the lecture had been upon 
 any other subject it would not have been so hard 
 for Kate and me to keep sober faces ; but it was 
 directed entirely toward young men, and there 
 was not a young man there.
 
 THE CIRCUS AT DENBY. 147 
 
 The children in front of us mildly scuffled with 
 each other at one time, until the one at the end 
 of the pew dropped a marble, which struck the 
 floor and rolled with a frightful noise down the 
 edge of the aisle where there was no carpet. The 
 congregation instinctively started up to look after 
 it, but we recollected ourselves and leaned back 
 again in our places, while the awed children, after 
 keeping unnaturally quiet, fell asleep, and tumbled 
 against each other helplessly. After a time the 
 man sat down and wiped his forehead, looking well 
 satisfied ; and when we were wondering whether we 
 might with propriety come away, he rose again, 
 and said it was a free lecture, and he thanked us 
 for our kind patronage on that inclement night ; 
 but iu other places which he had visited there 
 had been a contribution taken up for the cause. 
 It would, perhaps, do no harm, would the sex- 
 ton 
 
 But the sexton could not have heard the sound 
 of a cannon at that distance, and slumbered on. 
 Neither Kate nor I had any money, except a 
 twenty-dollar bill in my pui*se, and some coppers 
 in the pocket of her water-proof cloak which she 
 assured me she was prepared to give ; but we 
 saw no signs of the sexton's waking, and as one
 
 148 DEEPHAVEX. 
 
 of the women kindly went forward to wake the 
 children, we all rose and came away. 
 
 After we had made as much fun and laughed 
 as long as we pleased that night, we became 
 suddenly conscious of the pitiful side of it all ; 
 and being anxious that every one should have 
 the highest opinion of Deephaven, we sent Tom 
 Dockum early in the morning with an anonymous 
 note to the lecturer, whom he found without much 
 trouble ; but afterward we were disturbed at hear- 
 ing that he was going to repeat his lecture that 
 evening, the wind having gone round to the 
 northwest, and I have no doubt there were a 
 good many women able to be out, and that he 
 harvested enough ten-cent pieces to pay his ex- 
 penses without our help ; though he had particu- 
 larly told us it was for " the cause," the evening 
 before, and that ought to have been a consolation.
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 
 
 NE of the chief pleasures in Deephaven 
 was our housekeeping. Going to market 
 was apt to use up a whole morning, 
 especially if we went to the fish-houses. We de- 
 pended somewhat upon supplies from Boston, but 
 sometimes we used to chase a butcher who took a 
 drive in his old canvas-topped cart when he felt 
 like it, and as for fish, there were always enough 
 to be caught, even if we could not buy any. Our 
 acquaintances would often ask if we had anything 
 for dinner that day, and would kindly suggest that 
 somebody had been boiling lobsters, or that a boat 
 had just come in with some nice mackerel, or that 
 somebody over on the Ridge was calculating to kill 
 a lamb, and we had better speak for a quarter in 
 good season. I am afraid we were looked upon as 
 being in danger of becoming epicures, which we 
 certainly are not, and we undoubtedly roused a 
 great deal of interest because we used to eat mush-
 
 150 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 rooms, which grew in the suburbs of the town in 
 wild luxuriance. 
 
 One morning Maggie told us that there was 
 nothing in the house for dinner, and, taking an 
 early start, we went at once down to the store to 
 ask if the butcher had been seen, but finding that 
 he had gone out deep-sea fishing for two days, and 
 that when he came back he had planned to kill a 
 veal, we left word for a sufficient piece of the 
 doomed animal to be set apart for our family, and 
 strolled down to the shore to see if we could find 
 some mackerel ; but there was not a fisherman in 
 sight, and after going to all the fish-houses we con- 
 cluded that we had better provide for ourselves. 
 We had not brought our own lines, but we knew 
 where Danny kept his, and after finding a basket 
 of suitable size, and taking some clams from Dan- 
 ny's bait-tub, we went over to the hull of an old 
 schooner which was going to pieces alongside one 
 of the ruined wharves. We looked down the hatch- 
 way into the hold, and could see the flounders and 
 sculpin swimming about lazily, and once in a while 
 a little pollock scooted down among them imper- 
 tinently and then disappeared. " There is that 
 same big flounder that we saw day before yester- 
 day," said I. " I know him because one of his fins
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 151 
 
 is half gone. I don't believe he can get out, for 
 the hole in the side of the schooner is n't very 
 wide, and it is higher up than flounders ever swim. 
 Perhaps he came in when he was young, and was 
 too lazy to go out until he was so large he could n't. 
 Flounders always look so lazy, and as if they 
 thought a great deal of themselves." 
 
 " I hope they will think enough of themselves 
 to keep away from my hcok this morning," said 
 Kate, philosophically, " and the sculpin too. I am 
 going to fish for dinners alone, and keep my line 
 short." And she perched herself on the quarter, 
 baited her hook carefully, and threw it over, with 
 a clam-shell to call attention. I went to the rail 
 at the side, and we were presently much encour- 
 aged by pulling up two small dinners, and felt 
 that our prospects for dinner were excellent. 
 Then I unhappily caught so large a sculpin that 
 it was like pulling up an open umbrella, and after 
 I had thrown him into the hold to keep company 
 with the flounder, our usual good luck seemed to 
 desert us. It was one of the days when, in spite 
 of twitching the line and using all the tricks we 
 could think of, the dinners would either eat our 
 bait or keep away altogether. Kate at last said 
 we must starve unless we could catch the big
 
 152 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 flounder, and asked me to drop my hook down the 
 hatchway ; but it seemed almost too bad to destroy 
 his innocent happiness. Just then we heard the 
 noise of oars, and to our delight saw Cap'n Sands 
 in his dory just beyond the next wharf. " Any 
 luck 1 " said he. " S'pose ye don't care anything 
 about going out this morning 1 ? " 
 
 " We are not amusing ourselves ; we are trying 
 to catch some fish for dinner," said Kate. " Could 
 you wait out by the red buoy while we get a few 
 more, and then should you be back by noon, or are 
 you going for a longer voyage, Captain Sands 1 " 
 
 " I was going out to Black Rock for cunners 
 myself," said the cap'n. " I should be pleased to 
 take ye, if ye 'd like to go." So we wound up our 
 lines, and took our basket and clams and went 
 round to meet the boat. I felt like rowing, and 
 took the oars while Kate was mending her sinker 
 and the cap'n was busy with a snarled line. 
 
 " It 's pretty hot," said he, presently, " but I see 
 a breeze coming in, and the clouds seem to be 
 thickening ; I guess we shall have it cooler 'long 
 towards noon. It looked last night as if we were 
 going to have foul weather, but the scud seemed 
 to blow off, and it was as pretty a morning as ever 
 I see. ' A growing moon chaws up the clouds,'
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 153 
 
 my gran'ther used to say. He was as knowing 
 about the weather as anybody I ever come across ; 
 'most always hit it just about right. Some folks 
 lay all the weather to the moon, accordin' to where 
 she quarters, and when she 's in perigee we 're 
 going to have this kind of weather, and when she 's 
 in apogee she 's got to do so and so for sartain ; 
 but gran'ther he used to laugh at all them things. 
 He said it never made no kind of difference, and 
 he went by the looks of the clouds and the feel of 
 the air, and he thought folks could n't make no 
 kind of rules that held good, that had to do with 
 the moon. Well, he did use to depend on the 
 moon some; everybody knows we aren't so likely 
 to have foul weather in a growing moon as we be 
 when she 's waning. But some folks I could name, 
 they can't do nothing without having the moon's 
 opinion on it. When I went my second voyage 
 afore the mast we was in port ten days at Cadiz, 
 and the ship she needed salting dreadful. The 
 mate kept telling the captain how low the salt was 
 in her, and we was going a long voyage from there, 
 but no, he would n't have her salted nohow, be- 
 cause it was the wane of the moon. He was an 
 amazing set kind of man, the cap'n was, and would 
 have his own way on sea or shore. The mate was 
 5*
 
 154 DEE PEA YEN. 
 
 his own brother, and they used to fight like a cat 
 and dog ; they owned most of the ship between 
 'em. I was slashing the mizzeu-mast, and heard 
 'em a disputin' about the salt. The cap'n was a 
 first-rate seaman and died rich, but he was dread- 
 ful notional. I know one time we were a lyin' out 
 in the stream all ready to weigh anchor, and every- 
 thing was in trim, the men were up in the rigging 
 and a fresh breeze going out, just what we 'd been 
 waiting for, and the Vford was passed to take in 
 sail and make everything fast. The men swore, 
 and everybody said the cap'n had had some kind 
 of a warning. But that night it began to blow, 
 and I tell you afore morning we were glad enough 
 we were in harbor. The old Victor she dragged her 
 anchor, and the fore-to'-gallant sail and r'yal got 
 loose somehow and was blown out of the bolt-ropes. 
 Most of the canvas and rigging Was old, but we 
 had first-rate weather after that, and did n't bend 
 near all the new sail we had aboard, though the 
 cap'n was most afraid we 'd come short when we 
 left Boston. That was 'most sixty year ago," said 
 the captain, reflectively. " How time does slip 
 away ! You young folks have n't any idea. She 
 was a first-rate ship, the old Victor was, though I 
 suppose she would n't cut much of a dash now 
 'longside of some of the new clippers.
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 155 
 
 " There used to be some strange-looking crafts 
 in those days ; there was the old brig Hannah. 
 They used to say she would sail backwards as fast 
 as forwards, and she was so square in the bows, 
 they used to call her the sugar-box. She was 
 master old, the Hannah was, and there wasn't a 
 port from here to New Orleans where she was n't 
 known ; she used to carry a master cargo for her 
 size, more than some ships that ranked two hun- 
 dred and fifty ton, and she was put down for two 
 hundred. She used to make good voyages, the 
 Hannah did, and then there was the Pactolus ; 
 she was just about such another, you would 
 have laughed to see her. She sailed out of this 
 port for a good many years. Cap'n Wall he told 
 me that if he had her before the wind with a cargo 
 of cotton, she would make a middling good run, 
 but load her deep with salt, and you might as well 
 try to sail a stick of oak timber with a hand- 
 kerchief. She was a stout-built ship: I should n't 
 wonder if her timbers were afloat somewhere yet ; 
 she was sold to some parties out in San Francisco. 
 There ! everything 's changed from what it was 
 when I used to follow the sea. I wonder some- 
 times if the sailors have as queer works aboard 
 ship as they used. Bless ye ! Deephaven used to
 
 156 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 be a different place to what it is now ; there was 
 hardly a day in the year that you did n't hear the 
 shipwrights' hammers, and there was always some- 
 thing going on at the wharves. You would see 
 the folks from up country comin' in with their 
 loads of oak knees and plank, and logs o' rock- 
 maple for keels when there was snow on the 
 ground in winter-time, and the big sticks of tim- 
 ber-pine for masts would come crawling along the 
 road with their three and four yoke of oxen all 
 frosted up, the sleds creaking and the snow growl- 
 ing and the men flapping their arms to keep warm, 
 and hallooing as if there wan't nothin' else goin' 
 on in the world except to get them masts to the 
 ship-yard. Bless ye \ two o' them teams together 
 would stretch from here 'most up to the Widow 
 Jim's place, no such timber-pines nowadays." 
 
 " I suppose the sailors are very jolly together 
 sometimes," said Kate, meditatively, with the least 
 flicker of a smile at me. The captain did not 
 answer for a minute, as he was battling with an 
 obstinate snarl in his line; but when he had found 
 the right loop he said, " I 've had the best times 
 and the hardest times of my life at sea, that's cer- 
 tain ! I was just thinking it over when you spoke. 
 I '11 tell you some stories one day or 'nother that '11
 
 CUNSER-F1SH1NG. 157 
 
 please you. Land ! you 've no idea what tricks 
 some of those wild fellows will be up to. Now, 
 saying they fetch home a cargo of wines and they 
 want a drink ; they 've got a trick so they can 
 get it. Saying it 's champagne, they '11 fetch up 
 a basket, and how do you suppose they '11 get 
 into it?" 
 
 Of course we did n't know. 
 
 " Well, every basket will be counted, and they're 
 fastened up particular, so they can tell in a min- 
 ute if they 've been tampered with ; and neither 
 must you draw the corks if you could get the 
 basket open. I suppose ye may have seen cham- 
 pagne, how it's all wired and waxed. Now, they 
 take a clean tub, them felk>ws do, and just shake 
 the basket and jounce it up and down till they 
 break the bottles and let the wine drain out ; then 
 they take it down in the hold and put it back 
 with the rest, and when the cargo is delivered 
 there 's only one or two whole bottles in that 
 basket, and there 's a dreadful fuss about its being 
 stowed so foolish." The captain told this with an 
 air of great satisfaction, but we did not show the 
 least suspicion that he might have assisted at 
 some such festivity. 
 
 " Then they have a way of breaking into a cask.
 
 158 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 It won't do to start the bung, and it won't do to 
 bore a hole where it can be seen, but they 're up 
 to that : they slip back one of the end hoops and 
 bore two holes underneath it, one for the air to go 
 in and one for the liquor to come out, and after 
 they get all out they want they put in some 
 spigots and cut them down close to the stave, 
 knock back the hoop again, and there ye are, all 
 trig." 
 
 " I never should have thought of it," said Kate, 
 admiringly. 
 
 " There is n't nothing," Cap'n Sands went on, 
 " that '11 hender some masters from cheating the 
 owners a little. Get them off in a foreign port, and 
 there 's nobody to watch, and they most of them 
 have a feeling that they ain't getting full pay, and 
 they '11 charge things to the ship that she never 
 seen nor heard of. There were two shipmasters 
 that sailed out of Salem. I heard one of 'em tell 
 the story. They had both come into port from 
 Liverpool nigh the same time, and one of 'em, he 
 was dressed up in a handsome suit of clothes, and 
 the other looked kind of poverty-struck. ' Where 
 did you get them clothes ] ' says he. ' Why, to 
 Liverpool,' says the other ; ' you don't mean to say 
 you come away without none, cheap as cloth was
 
 C UNNER- FISHIXG. 159 
 
 there 1 ?' ' Why, yes/ says the other cap'n, 'I 
 can't afford to wear such clothes as those be, and 
 I don't see how you can, either.' ' Charge 'ein to 
 the ship, bless ye ; the owners expect it.' 
 
 " So the next v'y'ge the poor cap'n he had a nice 
 rig for himself made to the best tailor's in Bristol, 
 and charged it, say ten pounds, in the ship's ac- 
 count ; and when he came home the ship's husband 
 he was looking over the papers, and ' What 's this 1 ? ' 
 says he, ' how come the ship to run up a tailor's 
 bill 1 ' ' Why, them 's mine/ says the cap'n, very 
 meaching. ' I onderstood that there would n't be 
 no objection made.' ' Well, you made a mistake/ 
 says the other, laughing; 'guess I 'd better scratch 
 this out.' And it was n't long before the cap'n met 
 the one who had put him up to doing it, and he 
 give him a blowing up for getting him into such a 
 fix. * Land sakes alive ! ' says he, ' were you fool 
 enough to set it down in the account 1 Why, I 
 put mine in, so many bolts of Russia duck.' " 
 
 Captain Sands seemed to enjoy this reminiscence, 
 and to our satisfaction, in a few minutes, after he 
 had offered to take the oars, he went on to tell us 
 another story. 
 
 " Why, as for cheating, there 's plenty of that 
 all over the world. The first v'y'ge I went into
 
 160 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 Havana as master of the Deerhound, she had never 
 been in the port before and had to be measured 
 and recorded, and then pay her tonnage duties 
 every time she went into port there afterward, 
 according to what she was registered on the cus- 
 tom-house books. The inspector he come aboard, 
 and he went below and looked round, and he meas- 
 ured her between decks ; but he never offered to 
 set down any figgers, and when we came back 
 into the cabin, says he, * Yes yes good ship ! 
 you put one doubloon front of this eye, so ! ' says 
 he, ' an' I not see with him ; and you put one more 
 doubloon front of other eye, and how you think 
 I see at all what figger you write 1 ' So I took his 
 book and I set down her measurements and made 
 her out twenty ton short, and he took his doub- 
 loons and shoved 'em into his pocket. There, it 
 is n't what you call straight dealing, but every- 
 body done it that dared, and you 'd eat up all the 
 profits of a v'y'ge and the owners would just as 
 soon you 'd try a little up-country air, if you paid 
 all those dues according to law. Tonnage was 
 dreadful high and wharfage too, in some ports, 
 and they 'd get your last cent some way or 'nother 
 if ye were n't sharp. 
 
 "Old Cap'n Carew, uncle to them ye see to meet-
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 161 
 
 ing, did a smart thing in the time of the embargo. 
 Folks got tired of it, and it was dreadful hard 
 times ; ships rotting at the wharves, and Deep- 
 haven never was quite the same afterward, though 
 the old place held out for a good while before she 
 let go as ye see her now. You 'd 'a' had a hard 
 grip on 't when I was a young man to make me 
 believe it would ever be so dull here. Well, 
 Cap'n Carew he bought an old brig that was lying 
 over by East Parish, and he began fitting her 
 up and loading her for the West Indies, and the 
 farmers they 'd come in there by night from all 
 round the country, to sell salt-fish and lumber 
 and potatoes, and glad enough they were, I tell ye. 
 The rigging was put in order, and it was n't long 
 before she was ready to sail, and it was all kept 
 mighty quiet. She lay up to an old wharf in a 
 cove where she would n't be much 'noticed, and 
 they took care not to paint her any or to attract 
 any attention. 
 
 " One day Cap'n Carew was over in Biverport 
 dining out with some gentlemen, and the revenue 
 officer sat next to him, and by and by says he, 
 ' Why won't ye take a ride with me this after- 
 noon 1 I 've had warning that there 's a brig load- 
 ing for the West Indies over beyond Deephaven 
 
 K
 
 162 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 soruewheres, and I'm going over to seize her.' 
 And he laughed to himself as if he expected fun, 
 and something in his pocket beside. Well, the 
 first minute that Cap'n Carew dared, after dinner, 
 he slipped out, and he hired the swiftest horse 
 in Riverport and rode for dear life, and told the 
 folks who were in the secret, and some who were n't, 
 what was the matter, and every soul turned to 
 and helped finish loading her and getting the rig- 
 ging ready and the water aboard ; but just as they 
 were leaving the cove the wind was blowing 
 just right along came the revenue officer with 
 two or three men, and they come off in a boat and 
 boarded her as important as could be. 
 
 " ' Won't ye step into the cabin, gentlemen, and 
 take a glass o' wine 1 ' says Cap'n Carew, very 
 polite ; and the wind came in fresher, something 
 like a squall -for a few minutes, and the men 
 had the sails spread before you could say Jack 
 Robi'son, and before those fellows knew what they 
 were about the old brig was a standing out to sea, 
 and the folks on the wharves cheered and yelled. 
 The Cap'n gave the officers a good scare and offered 
 'em a free passage to the West Indies, and finally 
 they said they would n't report at headquarters if 
 he 'd let 'em go ashore ; so he told the sailors to
 
 CUNNER-FISmXG. 163 
 
 lower their boat about two miles off Deephaven, 
 and they pulled ashore meek enough. Cap'n 
 Carew had a first-rate run, and made a lot of 
 money, so I have heard it said. Bless ye ! every 
 shipmaster would have done just the same if he 
 had dared, and everybody was glad when they 
 heard about it. Dreadful foolish piece of business 
 that embargo was ! 
 
 "Now I declare," said Captain Sands, after he 
 had finished this narrative, *' here I 'm a telling 
 stories and you 're doin' all the work. You '11 pull 
 a boat ahead of anybody, if you keep on. Tom 
 Kew was a-praisin' up both of you to me the 
 other day : says he, ' They don't put on no airs, but 
 I tell ye they can pull a boat well, and swim like 
 fish,' says he. There now, if you '11 give me the 
 oars I'll put the dory just where I want her, and 
 you can be getting your lines ready. I know a 
 place here where it 's always toler'ble fishing, and 
 I guess we '11 get something." 
 
 Kate and I cracked our clams on the gunwale 
 of the boat, and cut them into nice little bits for 
 bait with a piece of the shell, and by the time the 
 captain had thrown out the killick we were ready 
 to begin, and found the fishing much more excit- 
 ing than it had been at the wharf.
 
 -164 DEEPIIAVEN. 
 
 "I don't know as I ever see 'em bite faster," 
 said the old sailor, presently ; " guess it 's because 
 they like the folks that 's fishing. Well, I 'm 
 pleased. I thought I 'd let 'Bijah take some along 
 to Denby in the cart to-morrow if I got more than 
 I could use at home. I did n't calc'late on hav- 
 ing such a lively crew aboard. I s'pose ye would 
 n't care about goiDg out a little further by and 
 by to see if we can't get two or three haddock 1 " 
 And we answered that we should like nothing 
 better. 
 
 It was growing cloudy, and was much cooler, 
 the perfection of a day for fishing, and we sat 
 there diligently pulling in Gunners, and talking a 
 little once in a while. The tide was nearly out, 
 and Black Rock looked almost large enough to be 
 called an island. The sea was smooth and the 
 low waves broke lazily among the seaweed-cov- 
 ered ledges, while our boat swayed about on the 
 water, lifting and falling gently as the waves went 
 in shore. We were not a very long way from the 
 lighthouse, and once we could see Mrs. Kew's big 
 white apron as she stood in the doorway for a few 
 minutes. There was no noise except the plash of 
 the low-tide waves and the occasional flutter of a 
 fish in the bottom of the dory. Kate and I always
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 165 
 
 killed our fish at once by a rap on the head, for it 
 certainly saved the poor creatures much discom- 
 fort, and ourselves as well, and it made it easier 
 to take them off the hook than if they were flop- 
 ping about and making us aware of our cruelty. 
 
 Suddenly the captain wound up his line and 
 said he thought we 'd better be going in, and Kate 
 and T looked at him with surprise. " It is only half 
 past ten," said I, looking at my watch. " Don't 
 hurry in on our account," added Kate, persuasively, 
 for we were having a very good time. 
 
 " I guess we won't mind about the haddock. 
 I 've got a feelin' we 'd better go ashore." And he 
 looked up into the sky and turned to see the west. 
 "I knew there was something the matter; there's 
 going to be a shower." And we looked behind us 
 to see a bank of heavy clouds coming over fast. 
 " I wish we had two pair of oars," said Captain 
 Sands. " I 'm afraid we shall get caught." 
 
 " You need n't mind us," said Kate. " We are n't 
 in the least afraid of our clothes, and we don't get 
 cold when we 're wet ; we have made sure of that." 
 
 " Well, I 'm glad to hear that," said the cap'n. 
 " Women-folks are apt to be dreadful scared of a 
 wetting ; but I 'd just as lief not get wet myself. 
 I had a twinge of rheumatism yesterday. I guess
 
 166 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 we '11 get ashore fast enough. No. I feel well 
 enough to-day, but you can row if you want to, 
 and I '11 take the oars the last part of the way." 
 
 When we reached the moorings the clouds were 
 black, and the thunder rattled and boomed over 
 the sea, while heavy spatters of rain were already 
 falling. "We did not go to the wharves, but stopped 
 down the shore at the fish-houses, the nearer place 
 of shelter. " You just select some of those cun- 
 ners," said the captain, who was beginning to be a 
 little out of breath, " and then you can run right 
 up and get under cover, and I '11 put a bit of old 
 sail over the rest of the fish to keep the fresh 
 water off." By the time the boat touched the 
 shore and we had pulled it up on the pebbles, the 
 rain had begun in good earnest. Luckily there 
 was a barrow lying near, and we loaded that in a 
 hurry, and just then the captain caught sight of a 
 well-known red shirt in an open door, and shouted, 
 " Halloa, Danny ! lend us a hand with these fish, 
 for we 're nigh on to being shipwrecked." And 
 then we ran up to the fish-house and waited 
 awhile, though we stood in the doorway watching 
 the lightning, and there were so many leaks in the 
 roof that we might almost as well have been out 
 of doors. It was cue of Danny's quietest days,
 
 CUNNER-FISHING. 167 
 
 and he silently beheaded hake, only winking at us 
 once very gravely at something our other com- 
 panion said. 
 
 " There ! " said Captain Sands, " folks may say 
 what they have a mind to ; I did n't see that 
 shower coming up, and I know as well as I want 
 to that my wife did, and impressed it on my mind. 
 Onr house sets high, and she watches the sky and 
 is al'ays a worrying when I go out fishing for fear 
 something 's going to happen to me, 'specially sence 
 I 've got to be along in years." 
 
 This was just what Kate and I wished to hear, 
 for we had been told that Captain Sands had most 
 decided opinions on dreams and other mysteries, 
 and could tell some stories which were considered 
 incredible by even a Deephaven audience, to whom 
 the marvellous was of e very-day occurrence. 
 
 " Then it has happened before 1 " asked Kate. 
 " I wondered why you started so suddenly to come 
 in." 
 
 " Happened ! " said the captain. " Bless ye, 
 yes ! I '11 tell you my views about these p'ints one 
 o' those days. I 've thought a good deal about 
 'em by spells. Not that I can explain 'em, nor 
 anybody else, but it 's no use to laugh at 'em as 
 some folks do. Cap'n Lant you know Cap'n
 
 168 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 Lant? he and I have talked it over consider' ble, 
 and he says to me, ' Everybody 's got some story 
 of the kind they will believe in spite of everything, 
 and yet they won't believe yourn.' " 
 
 The shower seemed to be over now, and we felt 
 compelled to go home, as the captain did not go on 
 with his remarks. I hope he did not see Danny's 
 wink. Skipper Scudder, who was Danny's friend 
 and partner, came up just then and asked us if 
 we knew what the sign was when the sun came 
 out through the rain. I said that I had always 
 heard it would rain again next day. " no," said 
 Skipper Scudder, "the Devil is whipping his wife." 
 
 After dinner Kate and I went for a walk through 
 some pine woods which were beautiful after the 
 rain ; the mosses and lichens which had been dried 
 up were all freshened and blooming out in the 
 dampness. The smell of the wet pitch-pines was 
 unusually sweet, and we wandered about for an 
 hour or two there, to find some ferns we wanted, 
 and then walked over toward East Parish, and 
 home by the long beach late in the afternoon. We 
 came as far as the boat-landing, meaning to go 
 home through the lane, but to our delight we saw 
 Captain Sands sitting alone on an old overturned 
 whale-boat, whittling busily at a piece of dried
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 169 
 
 kelp. " Good evenin'," said our friend, cheerfully. 
 And we explained that we had taken a long walk 
 and thought we would rest awhile before we went 
 home to supper. Kale perched herself on the boat, 
 and I sat down on a ship's knee which lay on the 
 pebbles. 
 
 " Did n't get any hurt from being out in the 
 shower, I hope 1 " 
 
 " JS"o, indeed," laughed Kate, " and we had such 
 a good time. I hope you won't mind taking us 
 out again some time." 
 
 " Bless ye ! no, " said the captain. " My girl 
 Lo'isa, she that 's Mis Winslow over to Riverport, 
 used to go out with me a good deal, and it seemed 
 natural to have you aboard. I missed Lo'isa after 
 she got married, for she was al'ays ready to go 
 anywhere 'long of father. She's had slim health 
 of late years. I tell 'em she 's been too much shut 
 up out of the fresh air and sun. When she was 
 young her mother never could pr'vail on her to set 
 in the house stiddy and sew, and she used to have 
 great misgivin's that Lo'isa never was going to be 
 capable. How about those fish you caught this 
 morning 1 good, were they 1 Mis Sands had dinner 
 on the stocks w^hen I got home, and she said she 
 would n't fry any 'til supper-time ; but I calc'lated
 
 170 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 to have 'em this noon. I like 'em best right out 
 o' the water. Little more and we should have got 
 them wet. That 's one of my whims ; I can't bear 
 to let fish get rained on." 
 
 " Captain Sands ! " said I, there being a con- 
 venient pause, "you were speaking of your wife 
 just now ; did you ask her if she saw the shower 1 " 
 
 " First thing she spoke of when I got into the 
 house. ' There/ says she, * I was afraid you 
 would n't see the rain coming in time, and I had 
 my heart in my mouth when it began to thunder. 
 I thought you 'd get soaked through, and be laid 
 up for a fortnight,' says she. ' I guess a summer 
 shower won't hurt an old sailor like me,' says I." 
 And the captain reached for another piece of his 
 kelp-stalk, and whittled away more busily than 
 ever. Kate took out her knife and also began to 
 cut kelp, and I threw pebbles in the hope of hit- 
 ting a spider which sat complacently on a stone 
 not far away, and when he suddenly vanished 
 there was nothing for me to do but to whittle 
 kelp also. 
 
 " Do you suppose," said Kate, " that Mrs. Sands 
 really made you know about that shower 1 " 
 
 The captain put on his most serious look, 
 coughed slowly, and moved himself a few inches
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 171 
 
 nearer us, along the boat. I think he fully under- 
 stood the importance and solemnity of the subject. 
 " It ain't for us to say what we do know or don't, 
 for there 's nothing sartain, but I made up my 
 mind long ago that there 's something about these 
 p'ints that 's myster'ous. My wife and me will be 
 sitting there to home and there won't be no word 
 between us for an hour, and then of a sudden 
 we '11 speak up about the same thing. Now the 
 way I view it, she either puts it into my head or 
 I into hers. I 've spoke up lots of times about 
 something, when I did n't know what I was going 
 to say when I began, and she '11 say she was just 
 thinking of that. Like as not you have noticed it 
 sometimes] There was something my mind was 
 dwellin' on yesterday, and she come right out with 
 it, and I 'd a good deal rather she had n't," said 
 the captain, ruefully. " I did n't want to rake it 
 all over ag'in, / 'm sure." And then he recollected 
 himself, and was silent, which his audience must 
 confess to have regretted for a moment. 
 
 " I used to think a good deal about such things 
 when I was younger, and I 'm free to say I took 
 more stock in dreams and such like than I do 
 now. I rec'lect old Parson Lorimer this Parson 
 Lorimer's father who was settled here first
 
 172 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 spoke to me once about it, arid said it was a 
 tempting of Providence, and that we had n't no 
 right to pry into secrets. I know I had a dream- 
 book then that I picked up in a shop in Bristol 
 once when I was in there on the Ranger, and all 
 the young folks were beset to get sight of it. I 
 see what fools it made of folks, bothering their 
 heads about such things, and I pretty much let 
 them go : all this stuff about spirit-rappings is 
 enough to make a man crazy. You don't get no 
 good by it. I come across a paper once with a lot 
 of letters in it from sperits, and I cast my eye 
 over 'em, and I says to myself, ' Well, I always 
 was given to understand that when we come to a 
 futur' state we was goin' to have more wisdom 
 than we can get afore ' ; but them letters had n't 
 any more sense to 'em, nor so much, as a man 
 could write here without schooling/ and I should 
 think that if the letters be all straight, if the folks 
 who wrote 'em had any kind of ambition they 'd 
 want to be movin' back here again. But as for 
 one person's having something to do with another 
 any distance off, why, that 's another thing ; 
 there ain't any nonsense about that. I know it 's 
 true jest as well as I want to," said the cap'n, 
 warming up. " I '11 tell ye how I was led to make
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 173 
 
 up my mind about it. One time I waked a man up 
 out of a sound sleep looking at him, and it set 
 me to thinking. First, there was n't any noise, 
 and then ag'in there was n't any touch so he could 
 feel it, and I says to myself, ' Why could n't I ha' 
 done it the width of two rooms as well as one, and 
 why could n't I ha' done it with my back turned ] ' 
 It could n't have been the looking so much as the 
 thinking. And then I car'd it further, and I says, 
 1 Why ain't a mile as good as a yard 1 and it 's the 
 thinking that does it,' says I, ' and we 've got some 
 faculty or other that we don't know much about. 
 We 've got some way of sending our thought like 
 a bullet goes out of a gun and it hits. We don't 
 know nothing except what we see. And some 
 folks is scared, and some more thinks it is all non- 
 sense and laughs. But there's something we 
 have n't got the hang of.' It makes me think o' 
 them little black polliwogs that turns into frogs 
 in the fresh-water puddles in the ma'sh. There 's 
 a time before their tails drop off and their legs 
 have sprouted out, when they don't get any use o ; 
 their legs, and I dare say they 're in their way 
 consider'ble ; but after they get to be frogs they 
 find out what they 're for without no kind of 
 trouble. I guess we shall turn these fac'lties to
 
 174 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 account some time or 'nother. Seems to me, 
 though, that we might depend on 'em now more 
 than we do." 
 
 The captain was under full sail on what we 
 had heard was his pet subject, and it was a 
 great satisfaction to listen to what he had to say. 
 It loses a great deal in being written, for the old 
 sailor's voice and gestures and thorough earnest- 
 ness all carried no little persuasion. And it was 
 impossible not to be sure that he knew more than 
 people usually do about these mysteries in which 
 he delighted. 
 
 " Now, how can you account for this 1 " said I.e. 
 " I remember not more than ten years ago my 
 son's wife was stopping at our house, and she had 
 left her child at home while she come away for a 
 rest. And after she had been there two or three 
 days, one morning she was sitting in the kitchen 
 'long o' the folks, and all of a sudden she jumped 
 out of her chair and ran into the bedroom, and 
 next minute she come out laughing, and looking 
 kind of scared. ' I could ha' taken my oath,' says 
 she, * that I heard Katy cry in' out mother,' sa}-s 
 she, 'just as if she was hurt. I heard it so plain 
 that before I stopped to think it seemed as if she 
 were right in the next room. I 'm afeard some-
 
 CUXNER-FISIIIXG. 175 
 
 thing has happened.' But the folks laughed, and 
 said she must ha' heard one of the lambs. * No, it 
 was n't,' says she, * it was Katy.' And sure enough, 
 just after dinner a young man who lived neighbor 
 to her come riding into the yard post-haste to get 
 her to go home, for the baby had pulled some hot 
 water over on to herself and was nigh scalded 
 to death and cry in' for her mother every minute. 
 Now, who 's going to explain that 1 It was n't any 
 common hearing that heard that child's cryin' 
 fifteen miles. And I can tell you another thing 
 that happened among my own folks. There was 
 an own cousin of mine married to a man by the 
 name of John Hathorn. He was trading up to 
 Parsonsfield, and business run down, so he wound 
 up there, and thought he 'd make a new start. 
 He moved down to Denby, and while he was 
 getting under way, he left his family up to the 
 old place, and at the time I speak of, was going 
 to move 'em down in about a fortnight. 
 
 "One morning his wife was fidgeting round, and 
 finally she came down stairs with her bonnet and 
 shawl on, and said somebody must put the horse 
 right into the wagon and take her down to Denby. 
 ' Why, what for, mother 1 ' they says. ' Don't 
 stop to talk,' says she; 'your father is sick, and'
 
 176 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 wants me. It 's been a worrying me since before 
 day, and I can't stand it no longer.' And the 
 short of the story is that she kept hurrying 'em 
 faster and faster, and then she got hold of the 
 reins herself, and when they got within five miles 
 of the place the horse fell dead, and she was nigh 
 about crazy, and they took another horse at a 
 farm-house on the road. It was the spring of the 
 year, and the going was dreadful, and when they 
 got to the house John Hathorn had just died, and 
 he had been calling for his wife up to 'most the 
 last breath he drew. He had been taken sick 
 sudden the day before, but the folks knew it was 
 bad travelling, and that she was a feeble woman to 
 come near thirty miles, and they had no idee he 
 was so bad off. I 'm telling you the living truth," 
 said Captain Sands, with an emphatic shake of his 
 head. "There 's more folks than me can tell 
 about it, and if you were goin' to keel-haul me 
 next minute, and hang me to the yard-arm after- 
 ward, I couldn't say it different. I was up to 
 Parsonsfield to the funeral ; it was just after I quit 
 following the sea. I never saw a woman so broke 
 down a she was. John was a nice man ; stiddy 
 and pleasant-spoken and straightforrard and kind 
 to his folks. He belonged to the Odd Fellows, and
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 177 
 
 they all marched to the funeral. There was a 
 good deal of respect shown him, I tell ye. 
 
 " There is another story I 'd like to have ye 
 hear, if it 's so that you ain't beat out hearing me 
 talk. When I get going I slip along as easy as a 
 schooner wing-and-wing afore the wind. 
 
 " This happened to my own father, but I never 
 heard him say much about it ; never could get 
 him to talk it over to any length, best I could do. 
 But gran'ther, his father, told me about it nigh 
 upon fifty times, first and last, and always the 
 same way. Gran'ther lived to be old, and there 
 was ten or a dozen years after his wife died that 
 he lived year and year about with Uncle Tobias's 
 folks and our folks. Uncle Tobias lived over on 
 the Ridge. I got home from my first v'y'ge as 
 mate of the Daylight just in time for his funeral. 
 I was disapp'inted to find the old man was gone. 
 I 'd fetched him some first-rate tobacco, for he was 
 a great hand to smoke, and I was calc'latin 5 on his 
 being pleased : old folks like to be thought of, and 
 then he set more by me than by the other boys. 
 I know I used to be sorry for him when I was a 
 little fellow. My father's second wife she was a 
 well-meaning woman, but an awful driver with her 
 work, and she was always making of him feel he
 
 178 DEEPHAVEX. 
 
 was n't no use. I do' know as she meant to, either. 
 He never said nothing, and he was always just so 
 pleasant, and he was fond of his book, and used 
 to set round reading, and tried to keep himself out 
 of the way just as much as he could. There was 
 one winter when I was small that I had the scar- 
 let-fever, and was very slim for a long time after- 
 ward, and I used to keep along o' gran'ther, and 
 he would tell me stories. He 'd been a sailor, 
 it runs in our blood to foller the sea, and he 'd 
 been wrecked two or three times and been taken 
 by the Algerine pirates. You remind me to tell 
 you some time about that ; and I wonder if you 
 ever heard about old Citizen Leigh, that used to 
 be about here when I was a boy. He was taken 
 by the Algerines once, same 's gran'ther, and they 
 was dreadful ferce just then, and they sent him 
 home to get the ransom money for the crew ; but 
 it was a monstrous price they asked, and the 
 owners would n't give it to him, and they s'poscd 
 likely the men was dead by that time, any way. 
 Old Citizen Leigh he went crazy, and used to go 
 about the streets with a bundle of papers in his 
 hands year in and year out. I 've seen him a 
 good many times. Gran'ther used to tell me how 
 he escaped. I '11 remember it for ye some day if 
 you '11 put me in mind.
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 179 
 
 " I got to be mate when I was twenty, and I 
 was as strong a fellow as yon could scare up, and 
 darin' ! why, it makes my blood run cold when 
 I think of the reckless things I used to do. I was 
 off at sea after I was fifteen year old, and there 
 was n't anybody so glad to see me as gran'ther 
 when I came home. I expect he used to be lone- 
 some after I went off, but then his mind failed 
 him quite a while before he died. Father was 
 clever to him, and he 'd get him anything he spoke 
 about ; but he was n't a man to set round and 
 talk, and he never took notice himself when gran'- 
 ther was out of tobacco, so sometimes it would be 
 a day or two. I know better how he used to feel 
 now that I 'm getting to be along in years myself, 
 and likely to be some care to the folks before long. 
 I never could bear to see old folks neglected ; nice 
 old men and women who have worked hard in 
 their day and been useful and willin'. I 've seen 
 'em many a time when they could n't help know- 
 ing that the folks would a little rather they 'd be 
 in heaven, and a good respectable headstone put 
 up for 'em in the bury ing-ground. 
 
 " Well, now, I 'm sure 1 've forgot what I was 
 going to tell you. 0, yes ; about grandmother 
 dreaming about father when he come home from
 
 180 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 sea. Well, to go back to the first of it, gran'ther 
 never was rugged ; he had ship-fever when he was 
 a young man, and though he lived to be so old, 
 he never could work hard and never got fore- 
 handed ; and Aunt Hannah Starbird over at East 
 Parish took my sister to fetch up, because she 
 was named for her, and Melinda and Tobias stayed 
 at home with the old folks, and my father went to 
 live with an uncle over in Riverport, whom he was 
 named for. He was in the West India trade and 
 was well-off, and he had no children, so they^ 
 expected he would do well by father. He was 
 dreadful high-tempered. I 've heard say he had 
 the worst temper that was ever raised in Deep- 
 haven. 
 
 "One day he set father to putting some cherries 
 into abar'l of rum, and went off down to his wharf 
 to see to the loading of a vessel, and afore he come 
 back father found he 'd got hold of the wrong 
 bar'l, and had sp'ilt a bar'l of the best Holland gin ; 
 he tried to get the cherries out, but that was n't 
 any use, and he was dreadful afraid of Uncle 
 Matthew, and he run away, and never was heard 
 of from that time out. They supposed he 'd run 
 away to sea, as he had a leaning that way, but 
 nobody ever knew for certain ; and his mother
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 1 8 1 
 
 she 'most mourned herself to death. Gran'ther 
 told me that it got so at last that if they could 
 only know for sure that he was dead it was all 
 they would ask. But it went on four years, and 
 gran'ther got used to it some; though grand- 
 mother never would give up. And one morning 
 early, before day, she waked him up, and says she, 
 1 We 're going to hear from Matthew. Get up 
 quick and go down to the store ! ' * Nonsense,' 
 says he. ' I 've seen him,' says grandmother, 
 ' and he 's coming home. He looks older, but 
 just the same other ways, and he 's got long hair, 
 like a horse's mane, all down over his shoulders.' 
 'Well, let the dead rest,' says gran'ther; 'you've 
 thought about the boy till your head is turned.' 
 'I tell you I saw Matthew himself,' says she, 'and 
 I want you to go right down to see if there isn't 
 a letter.' And she kept at him till he saddled the 
 horse, and he got down to the store before it was 
 opened in the morning, and he had to wait round, 
 and when the man came over to unlock it he was 
 'most ashamed to tell what his errand was, for he 
 had been so many times, and everybody supposed 
 the boy was dead. When he asked for a letter, 
 the man said there was none there, and asked if 
 he was expecting any particular one. He did n't
 
 182 DEEPIIAVEN. 
 
 get many letters, I s'pose ; all his folks lived about 
 here, and people did n't write any to speak of in 
 those days. Gran'ther said he thought he would n't 
 make such a fool of himself again, but he did n't 
 say anything, and he waited round awhile, talking 
 to one and another who came up, and by and by 
 says the store-keeper, who was reading a news- 
 paper that had just come, ' Here 's some news for 
 you, Sands, 1 do believe ! There are three vessels 
 come into Boston harbor that have been out whal- 
 ing and sealing in the South Seas for three or four 
 years, and your son Matthew's name is down on 
 the list of the crew.' 'I tell ye,' says gran'ther, * I 
 took that paper, and I got on my horse and put 
 for home, and your grandmother she hailed me, 
 and she said, "You 've heard, have n't youT' before 
 I told her a word.' 
 
 "Gran'ther he got his breakfast and started 
 right off for Boston, and got there early the second 
 day, and went right down on the wharves. Some- 
 body lent him a boat, and he went out to where 
 there were two sealers laying off riding at anchor, 
 and he asked a sailor if Matthew was aboard. ' Ay, 
 ay,' says the sailor, ' he 's down below.' And he 
 sung out for him, and when he come up out of the 
 hold his hair was long, down over his shoulders
 
 CUNXER-FISHING. 183 
 
 like a horse's mane, just as his mother saw it in 
 the dream. Gran'ther he did n't know what to 
 say, it scared him, and he asked how it hap- 
 pened ; and father told how they M been off sealing 
 in the South Seas, and he and another man had 
 lived alone on an island for months, and the whole 
 crew had grown wild in their ways of living, being 
 off so long, and for one thing had gone without 
 caps and let their hair grow. The rest of the men 
 had been ashore and got fixed up smart, but he 
 had been busy, and had put it off till that morn- 
 ing ; he was just going ashore then. Father was 
 all struck up when he heard about the dream, and 
 said his mind had been dwellin' on his mother and 
 going home, and he come down to let her see him 
 just as he was and she said it was the same way 
 he looked in the dream. He never would have his 
 hair cut father wouldn't and wore it in a 
 queue. I remember seeing him with it when I 
 was a boy; but his second wife did n't like the looks 
 of it, and she come up behind him one day and cut 
 it off with the scissors. He was terrible worked 
 up about it. I never see father so mad as he was 
 that day. Now this is just as true as the Bible," 
 said Captain Sands. " I have n't put a word to it, 
 and gran'ther al'ays told a story just as it was.
 
 184 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 That woman saw her son ; but if you ask me what 
 kind of eyesight it was, I can't tell you, nor nobody 
 else." 
 
 Later that evening Kate and I drifted into a 
 long talk about the captain's stories and these 
 mysterious powers of which we know so little. It 
 was somewhat chilly in the house, and we had 
 kindled a fire in the fireplace, which at first made 
 a blaze which lighted the old room royally, and 
 then quieted down into red coals and lazy puffs of 
 smoke. We had carried the lights away, and sat 
 with our feet on the fender, and Kate's great dog 
 was lying between us on the rug. I remember 
 that evening so well ; we could see the stars 
 through the window plainer and plainer as the 
 fire went down, and we could hear the noise of the 
 sea. 
 
 " Do you remember in the old myth of Demeter 
 and Persephone," Kate asked me, " where Deme- 
 ter takes care of the child and gives it ambrosia 
 and hides it in fire, because she loves it and wishes 
 to make it immortal, and to give it eternal youth ; 
 and then the mother finds it out and cries in terror 
 to hinder her, and the goddess angrily throws the 
 child down and rushes away 1 And he had to share 
 the common destiny of mankind, though he always
 
 GUNNER-FISHING. 185 
 
 had some wonderful inscrutable grace and wisdom, 
 because a goddess had loved him and held him in 
 her arms. I always thought that part of the story 
 beautiful where Demeter throws off her disguise 
 and is no longer an old woman, and the great 
 house is filled with brightness like lightning, and 
 she rushes out through the halls with her yellow 
 hair waving over her shoulders, and the people 
 would give anything to bring her back again, and 
 to undo their mistake. I knew it almost all by 
 heart once," said Kate, " and I am always finding 
 a new meaning in it. I was just thinking that it 
 may be that we all have given to us more or less 
 of another nature, as the child had whom Demeter 
 wished to make like the gods. I believe old Cap- 
 tain Sands is right, and we have these instincts 
 which defy all our wisdom and for which we never 
 can frame any laws. We may laugh at them, but 
 we are always meeting them, and one cannot help 
 knowing that it has been the same through all 
 history. They are powers which are imperfectly 
 developed in this life, but one cannot help the 
 thought that the mystery of this world may be the 
 commonplace of the next." 
 
 " I wonder," said I, " why it is that one hears so 
 much more of such things from simple country
 
 186 DEEP HAVEN. 
 
 people. They believe in dreams, and they have a 
 kind of fetichism, and believe so heartily in super- 
 natural causes. I suppose nothing could shake 
 Mrs. Patton's faith in warnings. There is no end 
 of absurdity in it, and yet there is one side of 
 such lives for which one cannot help having rever- 
 ence ; they live so ranch nearer to nature than 
 people who are in cities, and there is a soberness 
 about country people oftentimes that one cannot 
 help noticing. I wonder if they are unconsciously 
 awed by the strength and purpose in the world 
 about them, and the mysterious creative power 
 which is at work with them on their familiar farms. 
 In their simple life they take their instincts for 
 truths, and perhaps they are not always so far 
 wrong as we imagine. Because they are so in- 
 stinctive and unreasoning they may have a more 
 complete sympathy with Nature, and may hear 
 her voices when wiser ears are deaf. They have 
 much in common, after all, with the plants which 
 grow up out of the ground and the wild creatures 
 which depend upon their instincts wholly." 
 
 " I think," said Kate, " that the more one lives 
 out of doors the more personality there seems to 
 be in what we call inanimate things. The strength* 
 of the hills and the voice of the waves are no longer
 
 CUXNER-FISIIIXG. 187 
 
 only grand poetical sentences, but an expression of 
 something real, and more and more one finds God 
 himself in the world, and believes that we may 
 read the thoughts that He writes for us in the 
 book of Nature." And after this we were silent 
 for a while, and in the mean time it grew very late, 
 and we watched the fire until there were only a 
 few sparks left in the ashes. The stars faded away 
 and the moon came up out of the sea, and we 
 barred the great hall door and went up stairs to 
 bed. The lighthouse lamp burned steadily, and it 
 was the only light that had not been blown out in 
 all Deephaven.
 
 MRS. BONNY. 
 
 AM sure that Kate Lancaster and I must 
 have spent by far the greater part of 
 the summer out of doors. We often 
 made long expeditions out into the suburbs of 
 Deephaven, sometimes being gone all day, and 
 sometimes taking a long afternoon stroll and com- 
 ing home early in the evening hungry as hunt- 
 ers and laden with treasure, whether we had been 
 through the pine woods inland or alongshore, wheth- 
 er we had met old friends or made some desirable 
 new acquaintances. We had a fashion of calling 
 at the farm-houses, and by the end of the season 
 we knew as many people as if we had lived in 
 Deephaven all our days. We used to ask for a 
 drink of water ; this was our unfailing introduction, 
 and afterward there were many interesting subjects 
 which one could introduce, arid we could always 
 give the latest news at the shore. It was amus- 
 ing to see the curiosity which we aroused. Many
 
 MRS. BONNY. 189 
 
 of the people came into Deephaven only on special 
 occasions, and I must confess that at first we were 
 often naughty enough to wait until we had been 
 severely cross-questioned before we gave a definite 
 account of ourselves. Kate was very clever at 
 making unsatisfactory answers when she cared to 
 do so. We did not understand, for some time, 
 with what a keen sense of enjoyment many of 
 those people made the acquaintance of an entirely 
 new person who cordially gave the full particulars 
 about herself; but we soon learned to call this by 
 another name than impertinence. 
 
 I think there were no points of interest in that 
 region which we did not visit with conscientious 
 faithfulness. There were cliffs and pebble- beaches, 
 the long sands and the short sands ; there were 
 Black Rock and Roaring Rock, High Point and 
 East Point, and Spouting Rock ; we went to see 
 where a ship had been driven ashore in the night, 
 all hands being lost and not a piece of her left 
 larger than an axe-handle ; we visited the spot 
 where a ship had come ashore in the fog, and 
 had been left high and dry on the edge of the 
 marsh when the tide went out ; we saw where 
 the brig Methuselah had been wrecked, and the 
 shore had been golden with her cargo of lemons
 
 190 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 and oranges, which one might carry away by the 
 wherryful. 
 
 Inland there were not many noted localities, 
 but we used to enjoy the woods, and our explora- 
 tions among the farms, immensely. To the west- 
 ward the land was better and the people well-to- 
 do; but we went oftenest toward the hills and 
 among the poorer people. The land was uneven 
 and full of ledges, and the people worked hard for 
 their living, at most laying aside only a few dol- 
 lars each year. Some of the more enterprising 
 young people went away to work in shops and fac- 
 tories ; but the custom was by no means universal, 
 and the people had a hungry, discouraged look. 
 It is all very well to say that they knew nothing 
 better, that it was the only life of which they 
 knew anything ; there was too often a look of dis- 
 appointment in their faces, and sooner or later we 
 heard or guessed many stories : that this young 
 man had wished for an education, but there had 
 been no money to spare for books or schooling ; 
 and that one had meant to learn a trade, but 
 there must be some one to help his father with 
 the farm-work, and there was no money to hire a 
 man to work in his place if he went away. The 
 older people had a hard look, as if they had always
 
 MRS. BONNY. 191 
 
 to be on the alert and must fight for their place 
 in the world. One could only forgive and pity 
 their petty sharpness, which showed itself in tri- 
 fling bargains, when one understood how much a 
 single dollar seemed where dollars came so rarely. 
 We used to pity the young girls so much. It was 
 plain that those who knew how much easier and 
 pleasanter our lives were could not help envy- 
 ing us. 
 
 There was a high hill half a dozen miles from 
 Deephaven which was known in its region as " the 
 mountain." It was the highest land anywhere 
 near us, and having been told that there was a 
 fine view from the top, one day we went there, 
 with Tommy Dockum for escort. We overtook 
 Mr. Lorimer, the minister, on his way to make 
 parochial calls upon some members of his par- 
 ish who lived far from church, and to our delight 
 he proposed to go with us instead. It was a great 
 satisfaction to have him for a guide, for he knew 
 both the country and the people more intimately 
 than any one else. It was a long climb to the top 
 of the hill, but not a hard one. The sky was clear, 
 and there was a fresh wind, though we had left none 
 at all at the sea-level. After lunch, Kate and I 
 spread our shawls over a fine cushion of mountain-
 
 192 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 cranberry, and had a long talk with Mr. Lorimer 
 about ancient and modern Deephaven. He always 
 seemed as much pleased with our enthusiasm for 
 the town as if it had been a personal favor and 
 compliment to himself. I remember how far we 
 could see, that day, and how we looked toward 
 the far-away blue mountains, and then out over 
 the ocean. Deephaven looked insignificant from 
 that height and distance, and indeed the country 
 seemed to be mostly covered with the pointed tops 
 of pines and spruces, and there were long tracts 
 of maple and beech woods with their coloring of 
 lighter, fresher green. 
 
 " Suppose we go down, now," said Mr. Lorimer, 
 long before Kate and I had meant to propose such 
 a thing ; and our feeling was that of dismay. " I 
 should like to take you to make a call with me. 
 Did you ever hear of old Mrs. Bonny '1 " 
 
 " No," said we, and cheerfully gathered our 
 wraps and baskets ; and when Tommy finally 
 came panting up the hill after we had begun to 
 think that our shoutings and whistling were use- 
 less, we sent him down to the horses, and went 
 down ourselves by another path. It led us a long 
 distance through a grove of young beeches ; the 
 last year's whitish leaves lay thick on the ground,
 
 MRS. BONNY. 193 
 
 and the new leaves made so close a roof overhead 
 that the light was strangely purple, as if it had 
 come through a great church window of stained 
 glass. After this we went through some hemlock 
 growth, where, on the lower branches, the pale 
 green of the new shoots and the dark green of the 
 old made an exquisite contrast each to the other. 
 Finally we came out at Mrs. Bonny's. Mr. Lori- 
 mer had told us something about her on the way 
 down, saying in the first place that she was one 
 of the queerest characters he knew. Her hus- 
 band used to be a charcoal-burner and basket- 
 maker, and she used to sell butter and berries and 
 eggs, and choke-pears preserved in molasses. She 
 always came down to Deephaven on a little black 
 horse, with her goods in baskets and bags which 
 were fastened to the saddle in a mysterious way. 
 She had the reputation of not being a neat house- 
 keeper, and none of the wise women of the town 
 would touch her butter especially, so it was always 
 a joke when she coaxed a new resident or a 
 strange shipmaster into buying her wares ; but 
 the old woman always managed to jog home with- 
 out the freight she had brought. " She must be 
 very old, now," said Mr. Lorimer ; " I have not 
 seen her in a long time. It cannot be possible
 
 194 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 that her horse is still alive ! " And we all laughed 
 when we saw Mrs. Benny's steed at a little dis- 
 tance, for the shaggy old creature was covered with 
 mud, pine-needles, and dead leaves, with half the 
 last year's burdock-burs in all Deephaven snarled 
 into his mane and tail and sprinkled over his fur, 
 which looked nearly as long as a buffalo's. He 
 had hurt his leg, and his kind mistress had tied 
 it up with a piece of faded red calico and an end 
 of ragged rope. He gave us a civil neigh, and 
 looked at us curiously. Then an impertinent little 
 yellow-and-white dog, with one ear standing up 
 straight and the other drooping over, began to 
 bark with all his might ; but he retreated when 
 he saw Kate's great dog, who was walking sol- 
 emnly by her side and did not deign to notice 
 him. Just now Mrs. Bonny appeared at the door 
 of the house, shading her eyes with her hand, 
 to see who was coming. " Landy ! " said she, " if 
 it ain't old Parson Lorimer ! And who be these 
 with ye 1 " 
 
 " This is Miss Kate Lancaster of Boston, Miss 
 Katharine Brandon's niece, and her friend Miss 
 Denis." 
 
 "Pleased to see ye," said the old woman; "walk 
 in and lay off your things." And we followed her
 
 MRS. BONNY. 195 
 
 into the house. I wish you could have seen her : 
 she wore a man's coat, cut off so that it made an 
 odd short jacket, and a pair of men's boots much 
 the worse for wear ; also, some short skirts, beside 
 two or three aprons, the inner one being a dress- 
 apron, as she took off the outer ones and threw 
 them into a corner ; and on her head was a tight 
 cap, with strings to tie under her chin. I thought 
 it was a nightcap, and that she had forgotten to 
 take it off, and dreaded her mortification if she 
 should suddenly become conscious of it ; but I 
 need not have troubled myself, for while we were 
 with her she pulled it on and tied it tighter, as if 
 she considered it ornamental. 
 
 There were only two rooms in the house ; we 
 went into the kitchen, which was occupied by a 
 flock of hens and one turkey. The latter was evi- 
 dently undergoing a course of medical treatment 
 behind the stove, and was allowed to stay with us, 
 while the hens were remorselessly hustled out with 
 a hemlock broom. They all congregated on the 
 doorstep, apparently wishing to hear everything 
 that was said. 
 
 "Ben up on the mountain 1" asked our hostess. 
 " Real sightly place. Goin' to be a master lot o' 
 rosbries ; get any down to the shore sence I quit 
 comin' 1 "
 
 196 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 " yes," said Mr. Lorimer, " but we miss see- 
 ing you." 
 
 " I s'pose so," said Mrs. Bonny, smoothing her 
 apron complacently ; " but I 'm getting old, and I 
 tell 'em I 'm goin' to take my comfort ; sence 'he' 
 died, I don't put myself out no great ; I 've got 
 money enough to keep me long 's I live. Beckett's 
 folks goes down often, and I sends by them for 
 what store stuff I want." 
 
 " How are you now ] " asked the minister ; " I 
 think I heard you were ill in the spring." 
 
 " Stirrin', I 'm obliged to ye. I was n't laid up 
 long, and I was so 's I could get about most of the 
 time. I 've got the best bitters ye ever see, good 
 for the spring of the year. S'pose yer sister, Miss 
 Lorimer, would n't like some? she used to be 
 weakly lookin'." But her brother refused the 
 offer, saying that she had not been so well for 
 many years. 
 
 "Do you often get out to church nowadays, 
 Mrs. Bonny? I believe Mr. Reid preaches in the 
 school-house sometimes, down by the great ledge ; 
 does n't he ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, he does ; but I don't know as I get 
 much of any good. Parson Reid, he 's a worthy 
 creatur', but he never seems to have nothin' to say
 
 MRS. BONNY. 197 
 
 about foreordination and them p'ints. Old Par- 
 son Padclford was the man ! I used to set under 
 his preachiu' a good deal ; I had an aunt living 
 down to East Parish. He 'd get worked up, and 
 ho 'd shut up the Bible and preach the hair off 
 your head, 'long at the end of the sermon. Could 
 n't understand more nor a quarter part what he 
 said," said Mrs. Bonny, admiringly. "Well, we 
 wore a-speaking about the meeting over to the 
 ledge ; I don't know 's I like them people any to 
 speak of. They had a great revival over there in 
 the fall, arid one Sunday I thought 's how I 'd go ; 
 and when I got there, who should be a-prayin' but 
 old Ben Patey, he always lays out to get con- 
 verted, and he kep' it up diligent till I could n't 
 stand it no longer ; and by and by says he, ' I 've 
 been a wanderer ' \ and I up and says, ' Yes, you 
 have, I '11 back ye up on that, Ben ; ye 've wan- 
 dered around my wood-lot and spoilt half the likely 
 young oaks and ashes I 've got, a-stealing your 
 basket-stuff.' And the folks laughed out loud, and 
 up he got and cleared. He 's an awful old thief, 
 and he 's no idea of being anything else. I wa' n't 
 a-goin' to set there and hear him makin' b'lieve 
 to the Lord. If anybody's heart is in it, I ain't 
 a-goin' to hender 'em ; I ? m a professor, and I ain't
 
 198 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 ashamed of it, week-days nor Sundays neither. I 
 can't bear to see folks so pious to meeting, and 
 cheat yer eye-teeth out Monday morning. Well, 
 there ! we ain't none of us perfect ; even old Par- 
 son Moody was round-shouldered, they say." 
 
 " You were speaking of the Becketts just now," 
 said Mr. Lorimer (after we had stopped laughing, 
 and Mrs. Bonny had settled her big steel-bowed 
 spectacles, and sat looking at him with an expres- 
 sion of extreme wisdom. One might have ventured 
 to call her "peart," I think). "How do they get 
 on] I am seldom in this region nowadays, since 
 Mr. Reid has taken it under his charge." 
 
 " They get along, somehow or 'nother," replied 
 Mrs. Bonny ; " they Ve got the best farm this side 
 of the ledge, but they 're dreadful lazy and shift- 
 less, them young folks. Old Mis' Hate-evil Beck- 
 ett was tellin' me the other day she that was 
 Samanthy Barnes, you know that one of the 
 boys got fighting, the other side of the mountain, 
 and come home with his nose broke and a piece o' 
 one ear bit off. I forget which ear it was. Their 
 mother is a real clever, willin' woman, and she 
 takes it to heart, but it 's no use for her to say 
 anything. Mis' Hate-evil Beckett, says she, ' It 
 does make my man feel dreadful to see his
 
 MRS. BONNY. 199 
 
 brother's folks carry on so.' ' But there,' says I, 
 ' Mis' Beckett, it 's just such things as we read of; 
 Scriptur' is fulfilled : In the larter days there shall 
 be disobedient children.' " 
 
 This application of the text was too much for 
 us, but Mrs. Bonny looked serious, and we did not 
 like to laugh. Two or three of the exiled fowls 
 had crept slyly in, dodging underneath our chairs, 
 and had perched themselves behind the stove. 
 They were long-legged, half-grown creatures, and 
 just at this minute one rash young rooster made 
 a manful attempt to crow. " Do tell ! " said his 
 mistress, who rose in great wrath, " you need n't 
 be so forth-putting, as I knows on ! " After this 
 we were urged to stay and have some supper. 
 Mrs. Bonny assured us she could pick a likely 
 young hen in no time, fry her with a bit of pork, 
 and get us up "a good meat tea " ; but we had to 
 disappoint her, as we had some distance to walk 
 to the house where we had left our horses, and a 
 long drive home. 
 
 Kate asked if she would be kind enough to lend 
 us a tumbler (for ours was in the basket, which 
 was given into Tommy's charge). We were thirsty, 
 and would like to go back to the spring and get 
 some water.
 
 200 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 "Yes, dear," said Mrs. Bonny, "I 've got a glass, 
 if it. 's so 's I can find it." And she pulled a 
 chair under the little cupboard over the fireplace, 
 mounted it, and opened the door. Several things 
 fell out at her, and after taking a careful survey 
 she went in, head and shoulders, until I thought 
 that she would disappear altogether ; but soon 
 she came back, and reaching in took out one 
 treasure after another, putting them on the man- 
 tel-piece or dropping them on the floor. There 
 were some bunches of dried herbs, a tin horn, a 
 lump of tallow in a broken plate,, a newspaper, 
 and an old boot, with a number of turkey-wings 
 tied together, several bottles, and a steel trap, and 
 finally, such a tumbler ! which she produced with 
 triumph, before stepping down. She poured out 
 of it on the table a mixture of old buttons and 
 squash-seeds, beside a lump of beeswax which she 
 said she had lost, and now pocketed with satisfac- 
 tion. She wiped the tumbler on her apron and 
 handed it to Kate, but we were not so thirsty as 
 we had been, though we thanked her and went 
 down to the spring, coming back as soon as pos- 
 sible, for we could not lose a bit of the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 There was a beautiful view from the doorstep,
 
 MRS. BONNY. 201 
 
 and we stopped a minute there. " Real sightly, 
 ain't it 1 ?" said Mrs. Bonny. "But you ought to 
 be here and look across the woods some morning 
 just at sun-up. Why, the sky is all yaller and 
 red, and them low lands topped with fog ! Yes, 
 it 's nice weather, good growin' weather, this week. 
 Corn and all the rest of the trade looks first-rate. 
 I call it a forrard season. It 's just such weather 
 as we read of, ain't it 1 " 
 
 " I don't remember where, just at this moment,'* 
 said Mr. Lorimer. 
 
 " Why, in the almanac, bless ye ! " said she, 
 with a tone of pity in her grurn voice ; could it 
 be possible he did n't know, the Deephaven 
 minister! 
 
 We asked her to come and see us. She said she 
 had always thought she 'd get a chance some time 
 to see Miss Katharine Brandon's house. She 
 should be pleased to call, and she didn't know 
 but she should be down to the shore before very 
 long. She was 'shamed to look so shif'less that 
 day, but she had some good clothes in a chist in 
 the bedroom, and a boughten bonnet with a good, 
 cypress veil, which she had when " he " died. She 
 calculated they would do, though they might be 
 old-fashioned, some. She seemed greatly pleased
 
 202 DEEPHA VEX. 
 
 + 
 
 at Mr. Lorimer's having taken the trouble to come 
 to see her. All those people had a great rever- 
 ence for " the minister." We were urged to come 
 again in " rosbry " time, which was near at hand, 
 and she gave us messages for some of her old cus- 
 tomers and acquaintances. " I believe some of 
 those old creatur's will never die," said she ; "why, 
 they 're getting to be ter'ble old, ain't they, Mr. 
 Lorimer 1 There ! ye 've done me a sight of good, 
 and I wish I could ha' found the Bible, to hear ye 
 read a Psalm." When Mr. Lorimer shook hands 
 with her, at leaving, she made him a most rever- 
 ential courtesy. He was the greatest man she 
 knew ; and once during the call, when he was 
 speaking of serious things in his simple, earnest 
 way, she had so devout a look, and seemed so in- 
 terested, that Kate and I, and Mr. Lorimer him : 
 self, caught a new, fresh meaning id the familiar 
 words he spoke. 
 
 Living there in the lonely clearing, deep in the 
 woods and far from any neighbor, she knew all 
 the herbs and trees and the harmless wild creatures 
 who lived among them, by heart ; and she had an 
 amazing store of tradition and superstition, which 
 made her so entertaining to us that we went to 
 see her many times before we came away 'in the
 
 MRS. BONNY. 203 
 
 autumn. We went with her to find some pitcher- 
 plants, one day, and it was wonderful how much 
 she knew about the woods, what keen observation 
 she had. There was something so wild and un- 
 conventional about Mrs. Bonny that it was like 
 taking an afternoon walk with a good-natured 
 Indian. We used to carry her offerings of tobacco, 
 for she was a great smoker, and advised us to try 
 it, if ever we should be troubled with nerves, or 
 "narves," as she pronounced the name of that 
 affliction.
 
 IN SHADOW. 
 
 SOON after we went to Deephaven we took 
 a long drive one day with Mr. Dockum, 
 the kindest and silentest of men. He 
 had the care of the Brandon property, .and had 
 some business at that time connected with a large 
 tract of pasture-laud perhaps ten miles from town. 
 We had heard of the coast-road which led to it, 
 how rocky and how rough and wild it was, and 
 when Kate heard by chance that Mr. Dockum 
 meant to go that way, she asked if we might go 
 with him. He said he would much rather take us 
 than "go sole alone," but he should be away until 
 late and we must take our dinner, which we did 
 not mind doing at all. 
 
 After we were three or four miles from Deep- 
 haven the country looked very different. The 
 shore* was so rocky that there were almost no 
 places where a boat could put in, so there were 
 no fishermen in the region, and the farms were
 
 IN SHADOW. 205 
 
 scattered wide apart ; the land was so poor that 
 even the trees looked hungry. At the end of our 
 drive we left the horse at a lonely little form-house 
 close by the sea. Mr. Dockum was to walk a long 
 way inland through the woods with a man whom 
 he had come to meet, and he told us if we followed 
 the shore westward a mile or two we should find 
 some very high rocks, for which he knew we had a 
 great liking. It was a delightful day to spend out 
 of doors ; there was an occasional whiff of east- 
 wind. Seeing us seemed to be a perfect godsend 
 to the people whose nearest neighbors lived far out 
 of sight. We had a long talk with them before we 
 went for our walk. The house was close by the 
 water by a narrow cove, around which the rocks 
 were low, but farther down the shore the land rose 
 more and more, and at last we stood at the edge 
 of the highest rocks of all and looked far down 
 at the sea, dashing its white spray high over the 
 ledges that quiet day. What could it be in winter 
 when there was a storm and the great waves came 
 thundering in 1 
 
 After we had explored the shore to our hearts' 
 content and were tired, we rested for a while in the 
 shadow of some gnarled pitch-pines which stood 
 close together, as near the sea as they dared.
 
 206 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 They looked like a band of outlaws ; they were 
 such wild-looking trees. They seemed very old, 
 and as if their savage fights with the winter winds 
 had made them hard-hearted. And yet the little 
 wild-flowers and the thin green grass-blades were 
 growing fearlessly close around their feet ; and 
 there were some comfortable birds'-nests in safe 
 corners of their rough branches. 
 
 When we went back to the house at the cove 
 we had to wait some time for Mr. Dockum. We 
 succeeded in making friends with the children, and 
 gave them some candy and the rest of our lunch, 
 which luckily had been even more abundant than 
 usual. They looked thin and pitiful, but even in 
 that lonely place, where they so seldom saw a 
 stranger or even a neighbor, they showed that 
 there was an evident effort to make them look 
 like other children, and they were neatly dressed, 
 though there could be no mistake about their being 
 very poor. One forlorn little soul, with honest 
 gray eyes and a sweet, shy smile, showed us a 
 string of beads which she wore round her neck; 
 there were perhaps two dozen of them, blue and 
 white, on a bit of twine, and they were the dearest 
 things in all her world. When we came away \\e 
 were so glad that we could "give the man more
 
 IN SHADOW. 207 
 
 than he asked us for taking care of the horse, and 
 his thanks touched us. 
 
 " I hope ye may never know what it is to earn 
 every dollar as hard as I have. I never earned 
 any money as easy as this before. I don't feel as 
 if I ought to take it. I 've done the best I could," 
 said the man, with the tears coming into his eyes, 
 and a huskiness in his voice. " I Ve done the best 
 I could, and I'm willin' arid my woman is, but 
 everything seems to have been ag'in' us ; we never 
 seem to get forehanded. It looks sometimes as if 
 the Lord had forgot us, but my woman she never 
 wants me to say that ; she says He ain't, and that 
 we might be worse off, but I don' know. I 
 have n't had my health ; that 's hendered me most. 
 I 'm a boat-builder by trade, but the business 's all 
 run down ; folks buys 'em second-hand nowadays, 
 and you can't make nothing. I can't stand it to 
 foller deep-sea fishing, and well, you see what 
 my land 's wuth. But my oldest boy, he 7 s getting 
 ahead. He pushed off this spring, and he works 
 in a box-shop to Boston ; a cousin o' his mother's 
 got him the chance. He sent me ten dollars a 
 spell ago and his mother a shawl. I don't see 
 how he done it, but he 's smart ! " 
 
 This seemed to be the only bright spot in their
 
 208 DEEPHA VEX. 
 
 lives, and we admired the shawl and sat down in 
 the house awhile with the mother, who seemed 
 kind and patient and tired, and to have great 
 delight in talking about what one should wear. 
 Kate and I thought and spoke often of these peo- 
 ple afterward, and when one day we met the man 
 in Deephaven we sent some things to the children 
 and his wife, and begged him to come to the house 
 whenever he came to town ; but we never saw him 
 again, and though we made many plans for going 
 again to the cove, we never did. At one time the 
 road was reported impassable, and we put off our 
 second excursion for this reason and others until 
 just before we left Deephaven, late in October. 
 
 We knew the coast-road would be bad after tho 
 fall rains, and we found that Leander, the eldest 
 of the Dockum boys, had some errand that way, 
 so he went with us. We enjoyed the drive that 
 morning in spite of the rough road. The air was 
 warm, and sweet with the smell of bayberry-bushes 
 and pitch-pines and the delicious saltness of the 
 sea, which was not far from us all the way. It 
 was a perfect autumn day. Sometimes w r e crossed 
 pebble beaches, and then went farther inland, 
 through woods and up and down steep little hills ; 
 over shaky bridges which crossed narrow salt creeks
 
 IN SHADOW. 209 
 
 in the marsh-lands. There was a little excitement 
 about the drive, and an exhilaration in the air, 
 and we laughed at jokes forgotten the next minute, 
 and sang, and were jolly enough. Leander, who 
 had never happened to see us in exactly this 
 hilarious state of mind before, seemed surprised 
 and interested, and became unusually talkative, 
 telling us a great many edifying particulars about 
 the people whose houses we passed, and who owned 
 every wood-lot along the road. " Do you see that 
 house over on the pi'nt ] " he asked. " An old 
 fellow lives there that 's part lost his mind. He 
 had a son who was drowned off Cod Rock fishing, 
 much as twenty -five years ago, and he 's worn a 
 deep path out to the end of the pi'nt where he 
 goes out every hand's turn o' the day to see if 
 he can't see the boat coming in." And Leander 
 , looked round to see if we were not amused, and 
 seemed puzzled because we did n't laugh. Happily, 
 his next story was funny. 
 
 We saw a sleepy little owl on the dead branch 
 of a pine-tree ; we saw a rabbit cross the road and 
 disappear in a clump of juniper, and squirrels run 
 up and down trees and along the stone-walls with 
 acorns in their mouths. We passed straggling 
 thickets of the upland sumach, leafless, and hold-
 
 210 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 ing high their ungainly spikes of red berries ; there 
 were sturdy barberry-bushes along the lonely way- 
 side, their unpicked fruit hanging in brilliant clus- 
 ters. The blueberry-bushes made patches of dull 
 red along the hillsides. The ferns were whitish- 
 gray and brown at the edges of the woods, and the 
 asters and golden-rods which had lately looked so 
 gay in the open fields stood now in faded, frost- 
 bitten companies. There were busy flocks of birds 
 flitting from field to field, ready to start on their 
 journey southward. 
 
 When we reached the house, to our surprise 
 there was no one in sight and the place looked 
 deserted. We left the wagon, and while Leander 
 went toward the barn, which stood at a little dis- 
 tance, Kate and I went to the house and knocked. 
 I opened the door a little way and said " Hallo ! " 
 but nobody answered. The people could not have 
 moved away, for there were some chairs standing 
 outside the door, and as I looked in I saw the 
 bunches of herbs hanging up, and a trace of corn, 
 and the furniture was all there. It was a great 
 disappointment, for we had counted upon seeing 
 the children again. Leander said there was no- 
 body at the barn, and that they must have gone 
 to a funeral ; lie could n't think of anything else.
 
 7^ SHADOW. 211 
 
 Just now we saw some people coming up the 
 road, and we thought at first that they were the 
 man and his wife coming back ; but they proved to 
 be strangers, and we eagerly asked what had be- 
 come of the family. 
 
 "They 're dead, both on 'em. His wife she died 
 about nine weeks ago last Sunday, and he died day 
 before yesterday. Funeral 's going to be this after- 
 noon. Thought ye were some of her folks from 
 up country, when we were coining along," said the 
 man. 
 
 " Guess they won't come nigh," said the woman, 
 scornfully ; " 'fraid they 'd have to help provide for 
 the children. I was half-sister to him, and I 've 
 got to take the two least ones." 
 
 " Did you say he was going to be buried this 
 afternoon 1 " asked Kate, slowly. We were both 
 /more startled than I can tell. 
 
 " Yes," said the man, who seemed much better- 
 natured than his wife. She appeared like a per- 
 son whose only aim in life was to have things 
 over with. "Yes, we're going to bury at two 
 o'clock. They had a master sight of trouble, first 
 and last." 
 
 Leander had said nothing all this time. He had 
 known the man, and had expected to spend the
 
 212 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 day with him and to get him to go on two miles 
 farther to help bargain for a dory. He asked, in a 
 disappointed way, what had carried him off so 
 sudden. 
 
 " Drink," said the woman, relentlessly. " He 
 ain't been good for nothing sence his wife died : 
 she was took with a fever along in the first of 
 August. / 'd ha' got up from it ! " 
 
 " Now don't be hard on the dead, Marthy," 
 said her husband. " I guess they done the best 
 they could. They were n't shif'less, you know ; 
 they never had no health; 't was against wind 
 and tide with 'em all the time." And Kate asked, 
 " Did you say he was your brother ? " 
 
 " Yes. I was half-sister to him," said the wo- 
 man, promptly, with perfect unconsciousness of 
 Kate's meaning. 
 
 "And what will become of those poor children]" 
 
 " I 've got the two youngest over to my place 
 to take care on, and the two next them has been 
 put out to some folks over to the cove. I dare 
 say like 's not they '11 be sent back." 
 
 "They 're clever child'n, I guess," said the man, 
 who spoke as if this were the first time he had 
 dared take their part. " Don't be ha'sh, Marthy ! 
 Who knows but they may do for us when we get
 
 IN SHADOW. 213 
 
 to be old 1 " And then she turned and looked at 
 him with utter contempt. "I can't stand it to 
 hear men-folks talking on what they don't know 
 nothing about," said she. "The ways of Provi- 
 dence is dreadful myster'ous," she went on with 
 a whine, instead of the sharp tone of voice which 
 we had heard before. " We 've had a hard row, 
 and we 've just got our own children off our hands 
 and able to do for themselves, and now here are 
 these to be fetched up." 
 
 "But perhaps they'll be a help to you; they 
 seem to be good little things," said Kate. " I saw 
 them in the summer, and they seemed to be pleas- 
 ant children, and it is dreadfully hard for them to 
 be left alone. It 's not their fault, you know. We 
 brought over something for them; will you be 
 kind enough to take the basket when you go 
 homel" 
 
 " Thank ye, I 'm sure," said the aunt, relenting 
 slightly. " You can speak to my man about it, 
 and he '11 give it to somebody that 's going by. 
 I 've got to walk in the procession. They '11 be 
 obliged, I 'm sure. I s'pose you 're the young 
 ladies that come here right after the Fourth o' 
 July, ain't you 1 I should be pleased to have you 
 call and see the child'n if you 're over this way
 
 214 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 again. I heard 'em talk about you last time I 
 was over. Won't ye step into the house and see 
 him 1 He looks real natural," she added. But we 
 said, " No, thank you." 
 
 Leander told us he believed he would n't bother 
 about the dory that day, and he should be there 
 at the house whenever we were ready. He evi- 
 dently considered it a piece of good luck that he 
 had happened to arrive in time for the funeral. 
 We spoke to the man about the things we had 
 brought for the children, which seemed to delight 
 him, poor soul, and we felt sure he would be kind 
 to them. His wife shouted to him from a window 
 of the house that he 'd better not loiter round, or 
 they would n't be half ready when the folks began 
 to come, and we said good by to him and went 
 away. 
 
 It was a beautiful morning, and we walked slowly 
 along the shore to the high rocks and the pitch- 
 pine trees which we had seen before ; the air was 
 deliciously fresh, and one could take long deep 
 breaths of it. The tide was coming in, and the 
 spray dashed higher and higher. We climbed 
 about the rocks and went down in some of the 
 deep cold clefts into which the sun could seldom 
 shine. We gathered some wild-flowers ; bits of
 
 IN SHADOW. 215 
 
 pimpernel and one or two sprigs of fringed gentian 
 which had bloomed late in a sheltered place, and 
 a pale little bouquet of asters. We sat for a long 
 time looking off' to sea, and we could talk or think 
 of almost nothing beside what we had seen and 
 heard at the farm-house. We said how much we 
 should like to go to that funeral, and we even 
 made up our minds to go back in season, but we 
 gave up the idea : we had no right there, and it 
 would seem as if we were merely curious, and we 
 were afraid our presence would make the people 
 ill at ease, the minister especially. It would be 
 an intrusion. 
 
 We spoke of the children, and tried to think 
 what could be done for them : we were afraid they 
 would be told so many times that it. was lucky 
 they did not have to go to the poorhouse, and yet 
 we could not help pitying the hard-worked, dis- 
 couraged woman whom we had seen, in spite of 
 her bitterness. Poor soul ! she looked like a per- 
 son to whom nobody had ever been very kind, and 
 for whom life had no pleasures : its sunshine had 
 never been warm enough to thaw the ice at her 
 heart. 
 
 We remembered how we knocked at the door 
 and called loudly, but there had been no answer,
 
 216 DEEP II A YEN. 
 
 and we wondered how we should have felt if we 
 had gone farther into the room and had found 
 the dead man in his coffin, all alone in the house. 
 We thought of our first vidt, and what he had 
 said to us, and we wished we had come again 
 sooner, for we might have helped them so much 
 more if we had only known. 
 
 " What a pitiful ending it is," said Kate. " Do 
 you realize that the family is broken up, and the 
 children are to be half strangers to each other 1 
 Did you not notice that they seemed very fond of 
 each other when we saw them in the summer 1 
 There was not half the roughness and apparent 
 carelessness of one another which one so often 
 sees in the country. Theirs was such a little 
 world ; one can understand how, when the man's 
 wife died, he was bewildered and discouraged, 
 utterly at a loss. The thoughts of winter, and of 
 the little children, and of the struggles he had 
 already come through against poverty and disap- 
 pointment were terrible thoughts ; and like a boat 
 adrift at sea, the waves of his misery brought 
 him in against the rocks, and his simple life was 
 wrecked." 
 
 "I suppose his grandest hopes and wishes would 
 have been realized in a good farm and a thousand
 
 IN SHADOW. 217 
 
 or two dollars in safe keeping," said I. " Do you re- 
 member that merry little song in 'As You Like It'1 
 
 ' Who doth ambition shun 
 And loves to live i' the sun, 
 Seeking the food he eats, 
 And pleased with what he gets ' ; 
 and 
 
 'Here shall he see 
 
 No enemy 
 But winter and rough weather.' 
 
 That is all he lived for, his literal daily bread. I 
 suppose what would be prosperity to him would 
 be miserably insufficient for some other people. 
 I wonder how we can help being conscious, in the 
 midst of our comforts and pleasures, of the lives 
 which are being starved to death in more ways 
 than one." 
 
 " I suppose one thinks more about these things 
 as one grows older," said Kate, thoughtfully. 
 " How seldom life in this world seems to be a suc- 
 cess ! Among rich or poor only here and there 
 one touches satisfaction, though the one who 
 seems to have made an utter failure may really be 
 the greatest conqueror. And, Helen, I find that I 
 understand better and better how unsatisfactory, 
 how purposeless and disastrous, any life must be 
 which is not a Christian life? It is like being 
 10
 
 218 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 always in the dark, and wandering one knows not 
 where, if one is not learning more and more what 
 it is to have a friendship with God." 
 
 By the middle of the afternoon the sky had 
 grown cloudy, and a wind seemed to be coming 
 in off the sea, and we unwillingly decided that 
 we must go home. We supposed that the fu- 
 neral would be all over with, but found we had 
 been mistaken when we reached the cove. We 
 seated ourselves on a rock near the water; just 
 beside us was the old boat, with its killick and 
 painter stretched ashore, where its owner had 
 left it. 
 
 There were several men standing around the 
 door of the house, looking solemn and important, 
 and by and by one of them came over to us, and 
 we found out a little more of the sad story. Wo 
 liked this man, there was so much pity in his face 
 and voice. " He was a real willin', honest man, 
 Andrew was," said our new friend, " but he used 
 to be sickly, and seemed to have no luck, though 
 for a year or two he got along some better. When 
 his wife died he was sore afflicted, and could n't 
 get over it, and he did n't know what to do or 
 what was going to become of 'em with winter 
 comin' on, and well I may 's well tell ye ;
 
 IN SHADOW. 219 
 
 he took to drink and it killed him right off. I 
 come over two or three times and made some 
 gruel and fixed him up 's well 's I could, and the 
 little gals done the best they could, but he faded 
 right out, and did n't know anything the last time 
 1 see him, and he died Sunday mornin', when 
 the tide be^un to ebb. I always set a good deal 
 by Andrew ; we used to play together down to the 
 great cove ; that 's where he was raised, and my 
 folks lived there too. I 've got one o' the little 
 gals. I always knowed him and his wife." 
 
 Just now we heard the people in the house sing- 
 ing "China," the Deephaven funeral hymn, and 
 the tune suited well that day, with its wailing 
 rise and fall; it was strangely plaintive. Then 
 the funeral exercises were over, and the man 
 / with whom we had just been speaking led to the 
 door a horse and rickety wagon, from which the 
 seat had been taken, and when the coffin had 
 been put in he led the horse down the road a lit- 
 tle way, and we watched the mourners come out 
 of the house two by two. We heard some one 
 scold in a whisper because the wagon was twice as 
 for off as it need have been. They evidently had a 
 rigid funeral etiquette, and felt it important that 
 everything should be carried out according to rule.
 
 220 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 We saw a forlorn-looking kitten, with a bit of 
 faded braid round its neck, run across the road in 
 terror and presently appear again on the stone- 
 wall, where she sat looking at the people. We saw 
 the dead man's eldest son, of whom he had told us 
 in the summer with such pride. He had shown 
 his respect for his father as best he could, by a 
 black band on his hat and a pair of black cotton 
 gloves a world too large for him. He looked so 
 sad, and cried bitterly as he stood alone at the 
 head of the people. His aunt was next, with a 
 handkerchief at her eyes, fully equal to the pro- 
 prieties of the occasion, though I fear her grief 
 was not so heartfelt as her husband's, who dried 
 his eyes on his coat-sleeve again and again. 
 There were perhaps twenty of the mourners, and 
 there was much whispering among those who 
 walked last. The minister and some others fell 
 into line, and the procession went slowly down the 
 slope ; a strange shadow had fallen over every- 
 thing. It was like a November day, for the air felt 
 cold and bleak. There were some great sea-fowl 
 high in the air, fighting their way toward the sea 
 against the wind, and giving now and then a wild, 
 far-off ringing cry. We could hear the dull sound 
 of the sea, and at a little distance from the land
 
 IN SHADOW. 221 
 
 the waves were leaping high, and breaking in white 
 foam over the isolated ledges. 
 
 The rest of the people began to walk or drive 
 away, but Kate and I stood watching the funeral 
 as it crept along the narrow, crooked road. We 
 had never seen what the people called " walking 
 funerals " until we came to Deephaven, and there 
 was something piteous about this ; the mourners 
 looked so few, and we could hear the rattle of the 
 wagon-wheels. " He 's gone, ain't he ? " said some 
 one near us. That was it, gone. 
 
 Before the people had entered the house, there 
 had been, I am sure, an indifferent, business-like 
 look, but when they came out, all that was 
 changed ; their faces were awed by the presence of 
 death, and the indifference had given place to 
 uncertainty. Their neighbor was immeasurably 
 their superior now. Living, he had been a failure 
 by their own low standards ; but now, if he could 
 come back, he would know secrets, and be wise 
 beyond anything they could imagine, and who 
 could know the riches of which he might have 
 come into possession 1 
 
 To Kate and me there came a sudden conscious- 
 ness of the mystery and inevitableness of death ; 
 it was not fear, thank God ! but a thought of
 
 222 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 how certain it was that some day it would be a 
 mystery to us no longer. And there was a thought, 
 too, of the limitation of this present life ; we were 
 waiting there, in company with the people, the 
 great sea, and the rocks and fields themselves, 
 on this side the boundary. We knew just then 
 how close to this familiar, every-day world might 
 be the other, which at times before had seemed 
 so far away, out of reach of even our thoughts, 
 beyond the distant stars. 
 
 We stayed awhile longer, until the little black 
 funeral had crawled out of sight ; until we had 
 seen the last funeral guest go away and the door 
 had been shut and fastened with a queer old pad- 
 lock and some links of rusty chain. The door 
 fitted loosely, and the man gave it a vindictive 
 shake, as if he thought that the poor house had 
 somehow been to blame, and that after a long des- 
 perate struggle for life under its roof and among 
 the stony fields the family must go away defeated. 
 It is not likely that any one else will ever go to 
 live there. The man to whom the farm was mort- 
 gaged will add the few forlorn acres to his pasture- 
 land, and the thistles which the man who is dead 
 had fought so many years will march in next sum- 
 mer and take unmolested possession.
 
 IN SHADOW. 223 
 
 I think to-day of that fireless, empty, forsaken 
 house, where the winter sun shines in and creeps 
 slowly along the floor ; the bitter cold is in and 
 around the house, and the snow has sifted in at 
 every crack ; outside it is untrodden by any living 
 creature's footstep. The wind blows and rushes 
 and shakes the loose window-sashes in their frames, 
 while the padlock knocks knocks against the 
 door.
 
 MISS CHAUNCEY. 
 
 HE Deephaven people used to say some- 
 times complacently, that certain things 
 or certain people were " as dull as East 
 Parish." Kate and I grew curious to see that 
 part of the world which was considered duller 
 than Deephaven itself; and as upon inquiry we 
 found that it was not out of reach, one day we 
 went there. 
 
 It was like Deephaven, only on a smaller scale. 
 The village though it is a question whether that 
 is not an exaggerated term to apply had evidently 
 seen better days. It was on the bank of a river, 
 and perhaps half a mile from the sea. There were 
 a few old buildings there, some with mossy roofs 
 and a great deal of yellow lichen on the sides of 
 the walls next the sea ; a few newer houses, be- 
 longing to fishermen ; some dilapidated fish-houses ; 
 and a row of fish-flakes. Every house seemed to 
 have a lane of its own, and all faced different ways
 
 MISS CHAUNCEY. 225 
 
 except two fish-houses, which stood amiably side 
 by side. There was a church, which we had been 
 told was the oldest in the region. Through the 
 windows we saw the high pulpit and sounding- 
 board, and finally found the keys at a house near 
 by ; so we went in and looked around at our 
 leisure. A rusty foot-stove stood in one of the 
 old square pews, and in the gallery there was a 
 majestic bass-viol with all its strings snapped but 
 the largest, which gave out a doleful sound when 
 we touched it. 
 
 After we left the church we walked along the 
 road a little way, and came in sight of a fine old 
 house which had apparently fallen into ruin years 
 before. The front entrance was a fine specimen 
 of old-fashioned workmanship, with its columns 
 and carvings, and the fence had been a grand 
 affair in its day, though now it could scarcely 
 stand alone. The long range of out-buildings were 
 falling piece by piece ; one shed had been blown 
 down entirely by a late high wind. The large 
 windows had many panes of glass, and the great 
 chimneys were built of the bright red bricks which 
 used to be brought from over-seas in the days of 
 the colonies. We noticed the gnarled lilacs in the 
 yard, the wrinkled cinnamon-roses, and a flourish- 
 10* o
 
 226 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 ing company of French pinks, or " bouncing Bets," 
 as Kate called them. 
 
 " Suppose we go in," said I ; " the door is open 
 a little way. There surely must be some stories 
 about its being haunted. We will ask Miss Ho- 
 nora." And we climbed over the boards which 
 were put up like pasture-bars across the wide 
 front gateway. 
 
 " We shall certainly meet a ghost," said Kate. 
 
 Just as we stood on the steps the door was 
 pulled wide open ; we started back, and, well- 
 grown young women as we are, we have confessed 
 since that our first impulse was to run away. On 
 the threshold there stood a stately old woman who 
 looked surprised at first sight of us, then quickly 
 recovered herself and stood waiting for us to speak. 
 She was dressed in a rusty black satin gown, with 
 scant, short skirt and huge sleeves ; on her head 
 was a great black bonnet with a high crown and 
 a close brim, which came far out over her face. 
 "What is your pleasure?" said she; and we felt 
 like two awkward children. Kate partially recov- 
 ered her wits, and asked which was the nearer 
 way to Deephaven. 
 
 " There is but one road, past the church and 
 over the hill. It cannot be missed." And she
 
 MISS CHAUNCEY. 227 
 
 bowed gravely, when we thankee? her and begged 
 her pardon, we hardly knew why, and came away. 
 
 We looked back to see her still standing in the 
 doorway. " Who in the world can she be 1 " said 
 Kate. And we wondered and puzzled and talked 
 over a the ghost" until we saw Miss Honora 
 Carew, who told us that it was Miss Sally Chaun- 
 cey. 
 
 " Indeed, I know her, poor old soul ! " said Miss 
 Honora; " she has such a sad history. She is 
 the last survivor of one of the most aristocratic 
 old colonial families. The Chaunceys were of 
 great renown until early in the present century, 
 and then their fortunes changed. They had al- 
 ways been rich and well-educated, and I suppose 
 nobody ever had a gayer, happier time than Miss 
 'Sally did in her girlhood, for they entertained a 
 great deal of company and lived in fine style ; but 
 her father was unfortunate in business, and at last 
 was utterly ruined at the time of the embargo ; 
 then he became partially insane, and died after 
 many years of poverty. I have often heard a 
 tradition that a sailor to whom he had broken a 
 promise had cursed him, and that none of the 
 family had died in their beds or had any good 
 luck since. The East Parish people seem to be-
 
 228 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 lieve in it, and it is certainly strange what terrible 
 sorrow has come to the Chaunceys. One of Miss 
 Sally's brothers, a fine young officer in the navy, 
 who was at home on leave, asked her one day if 
 she could get on without him, and she said yes, 
 thinking he meant to go back to sea ; but in a few 
 minutes she heard the noise of a pistol in his 
 room, and hurried in to find him lying dead on 
 the floor. Then there was another brother who 
 was insane, and who became so violent that he 
 was chained for years in one of the upper cham- 
 bers, a dangerous prisoner I have heard his hor- 
 rid cries myself, when I was a young girl," said 
 Miss Honora, with a shiver. 
 
 " Miss Sally is insane, and has been for many 
 years, and this seems to me the saddest part of 
 the story. When she first lost her reason she was 
 sent to a hospital, for there was no one who could 
 take care of her. The mania was so acute that 
 no one had the slightest thought that she would 
 recover or even live long. Her guardian sold the 
 furniture and pictures and china, almost eveiy- 
 thing but clothing, to pay the bills at the hospital, 
 until the house was fairly empty ; and then one 
 spring day, I remember it well, she came home in 
 her right mind, and, without a thought of what
 
 MISS CHAUNCEY. 229 
 
 was awaiting her, ran eagerly into her home. It 
 was a terrible shock, and she never has recovered 
 from it, though after a long illness her insanity 
 took a mild form, and she has always been perfectly 
 harmless. She has been alone many years, and 
 no one 'can persuade her to leave the old house, 
 where she seems to be contented, and does not 
 realize her troubles; though she lives mostly in 
 the past, and has little idea of the present, except 
 in her house affairs, which seem pitiful to me, for 
 I remember the housekeeping of the Chaunceys 
 when I was a child. I have always been to see 
 her, and she usually knows me, though I have been 
 but seldom of late years. She is several years 
 older than I. The town makes her an allowance 
 every year, and she has some friends who take 
 care that she does not suffer, though her wants 
 are few. She is an elegant woman still, and some 
 day, if you like, I will give you something to carry 
 to her, and a message, if I can think of one, and 
 you must go to make her a call. I hope she will 
 happen to be talkative, for I am sure you would 
 enjoy her. For many years she did not like to see 
 strangers, but some one has told me lately that she 
 seems to be pleased if people go to see her.'' 
 
 You may be sure it was not many days before
 
 230 DEEP II A VEX. 
 
 Kate and I claimed the basket and the message, 
 and went again to East Parish. We boldly lifted 
 the great brass knocker, and were dismayed be- 
 cause nobody answered. While we waited, a girl 
 came up the walk and said that Miss Sally lived 
 up stairs, and she would speak to her if we liked. 
 " Sometimes she don't have sense enough to know 
 what the knocker means," we were told. There 
 was evidently no romance about Miss Sally to our 
 new acquaintance. 
 
 " Do you think," said I, " that we might go in 
 and look around the lower rooms] Perhaps she 
 will refuse to see us." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said the girl; " only run the 
 minute I speak ; you '11 have time enough, for she 
 walks slow and is a little deaf." 
 
 So we went into the great hall with its wide 
 staircase and handsome cornices and panelling, and 
 then into the large parlor on the right, and through 
 it to a smaller room looking out on the garden, 
 which sloped down to the river. Both rooms had 
 fine carved mantels, with Dutch-tiled fireplaces, 
 and in the cornices we saw the fastenings where 
 pictures had hung, old portraits, perhaps. And 
 what had become of them 1 ? The girl did not 
 know : the house had been the same ever since
 
 MISS CHAUNCEY. 231 
 
 she could remember, only it would all fall through 
 into the cellar soon. But the old lady was proud 
 as Lucifer, and would n't hear of moving out. 
 
 The floor in the room toward the river was so 
 broken that it was not safe, and we came back 
 through the hall and opened the door at the foot 
 of the stairs. " Guess you won't want to stop long 
 there," said the girl. Three old hens and a rooster 
 marched toward us with great solemnity when we 
 looked in. The cobwebs hung in the room, as they 
 often do in old barns, in long, gray festoons ; the 
 lilacs outside grew close against the two windows 
 where the shutters were not drawn, and the light 
 in the room was greenish and dim. 
 
 Then we took our places on the threshold, and 
 the girl went up stairs and announced us to Miss 
 Sally, and in a few minutes we heard her come 
 along the hall. 
 
 " Sophia," said she, " where are the gentry wait- 
 ing 1 " And just then she came in sight round the 
 turn of the staircase. She wore the same great 
 black bonnet and satin gown, and looked more old- 
 fashioned and ghostly than before. She was not 
 tall, but very erect, in spite of her great age, and 
 her eyes seemed to "look through you" in an un- 
 canny way. She slowly descended the stairs and
 
 232 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 came toward us with a courteous greeting, and 
 when we had introduced ourselves as Miss Carew's 
 friends she gave us each her hand in a most cordial 
 way and said she was pleased to see us. She bowed 
 us into the parlor and brought us two rickety, 
 straight- backed chairs, which, with an old table, 
 were all the furniture there was in the room. " Sit 
 ye down," said she, herself taking a place in the 
 window-seat. I have seen few more elegant women 
 than Miss Chauncey. Thoroughly at her ease, she 
 had the manner of a lady of the olden times, using 
 the quaint fashion of speech which she had been 
 taught in her girlhood. The long words and cere- 
 monious phrases suited her extremely well. Her 
 hands were delicately shaped, and she folded them 
 in her lap, as no doubt she had learned to do at 
 boarding-school so many years before. She asked 
 Kate and me if we knew any young ladies at that 
 school in Boston, saying that most of her intimate 
 friends had left when she did, but some of the 
 younger ones were there still. 
 
 She asked for the Carews and Mr. Lorimer, and 
 when Kate told her that she was Miss Brandon's 
 niece, and asked if she had not known her, she said, 
 " Certainly, my dear ; we were intimate friends at 
 one time, but I have seen her little of late."
 
 MISS CUAUNCEY. 233 
 
 " Do you not know that she is dead 1 " asked 
 Kate. 
 
 " Ah, they say every one is ' dead,' nowadays. 
 I do not comprehend the silly idea ! " said the old 
 lady, impatiently. " It is an excuse, I suppose. 
 She could come to see me if she chose, but she was 
 always a ceremonious body, and I go abroad but 
 seldom now ; so perhaps she waits my visit. I 
 will not speak uncourteously, and you must re- 
 member me to her kindly." 
 
 Then she asked us about other old people in 
 Deephaven, and about families in Boston whom 
 she had known in her early days. I think every 
 one of whom she spoke was dead, but we assured 
 her that they were all well and prosperous, and 
 we hoped we told the truth. She asked about the 
 love-affairs of men and women who had died old 
 and gray-headed within our remembrance ; and 
 finally she said we must pardon her for these tire- 
 some questions, but it was so rarely she saw any 
 one direct from Boston, of whom she could inquire . 
 concerning these old friends and relatives of her 
 family. 
 
 Something happened after this which touched us 
 both inexpressibly : she sat for some time watch- 
 ing Kate with a bewildered look, which at last
 
 234 DEEPHA VEX. 
 
 faded away, a smile coming in its place. " I think 
 you are like my mother," she said ; " did any one 
 ever say to you that you are like my mother 1 ? 
 Will you let me see your forehead 1 Yes ; and 
 your hair is only a little darker." Kate had risen 
 when Miss Chauncey did, and they stood side by 
 side. There was a tone in the old lady's voice 
 which brought the tears to my eyes. She stood 
 there some minutes looking at Kate. I wonder 
 what her thoughts were. There was a kinship, it 
 seemed to me, not of blood, only that they both 
 were of the same stamp and rank : Miss Chauncey 
 of the old generation and Kate Lancaster of the 
 new. Miss Chauncey turned to me, saying, " Look 
 up at the portrait and you will see the likeness too, 
 I think." But when she turned and saw the bare 
 wainscoting of the room, she looked puzzled, and 
 the bright flash which had lighted up her face was 
 gone in an instant, and she sat down again in the 
 window-seat ; but we were glad that she had for- 
 gotten. Presently she said, " Pardon me, but I 
 forget your question." 
 
 Miss Carew had told us to ask her about her 
 school-days, as she nearly always spoke of that 
 time to her ; and, to our delight, Miss Sally told 
 us a long story about her friends and about her
 
 MISS CHAUNCEY. 235 
 
 " coming-out party," when boat-loads of gay young 
 guests came down from Riverport, and all the 
 gentry from Deephaven. The band from the fort 
 played for the dancing, the garden was lighted, the 
 card-tables were in this room, and a grand supper 
 was served. She also remembered what some of 
 her friends wore, and her own dress was a silver- 
 gray brocade with rosebuds of three colors. She 
 told us how she watched the boats go off up river 
 in the middle of the summer night ; how sweet the 
 music sounded ; how bright the moonlight was ; 
 how she wished we had been there at her party. 
 
 " I can't believe I am an old woman. It seems 
 only yesterday," said she, thoughtfully. And then 
 she lost the idea, and talked about Kate's great- 
 grandmother, whom she had known, and asked us 
 how she had been this summer. 
 
 She asked us if we would like to go up stairs 
 where she had a fire, and we eagerly accepted, 
 though we were not in the least cold. Ah, what 
 a sorry place it was ! She had gathered together 
 some few pieces of her old furniture, which half 
 filled one fine room, and here she lived. There 
 was a tall, handsome chest of drawers, which I 
 should have liked much to ransack. Miss Carew 
 had told us that Miss Chauncey had large claims
 
 236 DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 against the government, dating back sixty or 
 seventy years, but nobody could ever find the 
 papers ; and I felt sure that they must be hidden 
 away in some secret drawer. The brass handles 
 and trimmings were blackened, and the wood 
 looked like ebony. I wanted to climb up and look 
 into the upper part of this antique piece of furni- 
 ture, and it seemed to me I could at once put my 
 hand on a package of " papers relating to the em- 
 bargo." 
 
 On a stand near the window was an old Bible, 
 fairly worn out with constant use. Miss Chauncey 
 was religious ; in fact, it was the only subject about 
 which she was perfectly sane. We saw almost 
 nothing of her insanity that day, though afterward 
 she was different. There were days when her 
 mind seemed clear; but sometimes she was si- 
 lent, and often she would confuse Kate with Miss 
 Brandon, and talk to her of long-forgotten plans 
 and people. She would rarely speak of anything 
 more than a minute or two, and then would drift 
 into an entirely foreign subject. 
 
 She urged us that afternoon to stay to luncheon 
 with her ; she said she could not offer us dinner, 
 but she would give us tea and biscuit, and no 
 doubt we should find something in Miss Carew's
 
 MISS CHAUXCEY. 237 
 
 basket, as she was always kind in remembering 
 her fancies. Miss Honora had told us to decline, 
 if she asked us to stay ; but I should have liked 
 to see her sit at the head of her table, and to be a 
 guest at such a lunch-party. 
 
 Poor creature ! it was a blessed thing that her 
 shattered reason made her unconscious of the 
 change in her fortunes, and incapable of compar- 
 ing the end of her life with its beginning. To her- 
 self she was still Miss Chauncey, a gentlewoman 
 of high family, possessed of unusual worldly ad- 
 vantages. The remembrance of her cruel trials 
 and sorrows had faded from her mind. She had 
 no idea of the poverty of her surroundings when 
 she paced back and forth, with stately steps, on 
 the ruined terraces of her garden ; the ranks of 
 lilies and the conserve-roses were still in bloom 
 for her, and the box-borders were as trimly kept 
 as ever; and when she pointed out to us the 
 distant steeples of Riverport, it was plain to see 
 that it was still the Riverport of her girlhood. 
 If the boat-landing at the foot of the garden had 
 long ago dropped into the river and gone out with 
 the tide ; if the maids and men who used to do 
 her bidding were all out of hearing ; if there had 
 been no dinner company that day and no guests
 
 238 DEEP HA YEN. 
 
 were expected for the evening, what did it mat- 
 ter 1 The twilight had closed around her gradu- 
 ally, and she was alone in her house, but she did 
 not heed the ruin of it or the absence of her 
 friends. On the morrow, life would again go on. 
 
 We always used to ask her to read the Bible to 
 us, after Mr. Lorimer had told us how grand and 
 beautiful it was to listen to her. I shall never 
 hear some of the Psalms or some chapters of 
 Isaiah again without being reminded of her ; and 
 I remember just now, as I write, one summer af- 
 ternoon when Kate and I had lingered later than 
 usual, and we sat in the upper room looking out 
 on the river and the shore beyond, where the 
 light had begun to grow golden as the day drew 
 near sunset. Miss Sally had opened the great 
 book at random and read slowly, " In my Father's 
 house are many mansions " ; and then, looking off 
 for a moment at a leaf which had drifted into 
 the window-recess, she repeated it : " In my Fa- 
 ther's house are many mansions ; if it were not so, 
 I would have told you." Then she went on slowly 
 to the end of the chapter, and with her hands 
 clasped together on the Bible she fell into a rev- 
 erie, and the tears came into our eyes as we 
 watched her look of perfect content. Through all
 
 MISS CHAUNCEY. 239 
 
 her clouded years the promises of God had been 
 her only certainty. 
 
 Miss Chauncey died early in the winter after 
 we left Deephaven, and one day when I was visit- 
 ing Kate in Boston Mr. Lorimer came to see us, 
 and told us about her. 
 
 It seems that after much persuasion she was 
 induced to go to spend the winter with a neighbor, 
 her house having become uninhabitable, and she 
 was, beside, too feeble to live alone. But her 
 fondness for her old home was too strong, and one 
 day she stole away from the people who took care 
 of her, and crept in through the cellar, where she 
 had to wade through half-frozen water, and then 
 went up stairs, where she seated herself at a 
 front window and called joyfully to the people 
 who went by, asking them to come in to see her, 
 as she had got home again. After this she was 
 very ill, and one day, when she was half delirious, 
 they missed her, and found her at last sitting on 
 her hall stairway, which she was too feeble to 
 climb. She lived but a short time afterwards, 
 and in her last days her mind seemed perfectly 
 clear. She said over and over again how good 
 God had always been to her, and she was gentle, 
 and unwilling to be a trouble to those who had 
 the care of her.
 
 240 DEE PITA YEN. 
 
 Mr. Lorimer spoke of her simple goodness, and 
 told us that though she had no other sense of 
 time, and hardly knew if it were summer or win- 
 ter, she was always sure when Sunday came, and 
 always came to church when he preached at East 
 Parish, her greatest pleasure seeming to be to give 
 money, if there was a contribution. "She may 
 be a lesson to us," added the old minister, rever- 
 ently ; " for, though bewildered in mind, bereft of 
 riches and friends and all that makes this world 
 dear to many of us, she was still steadfast in her 
 simple faith, and was never heard to complain of 
 any of the burdens which God had given her."
 
 LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 the summer was ended it was no 
 sorrow to us, for we were even more 
 fond of Deephaven in the glorious au- 
 tumn weather than we had ever been before. Mr. 
 Lancaster was abroad longer than he had intended 
 to be at first, and it was late in the season before 
 we left. We were both ready to postpone going 
 back to town as late as possible ; but at last it 
 was time for my friend to re-establish the Boston 
 housekeeping, arid to take up the city life again. 
 I must admit we half dreaded it : we were sur- 
 prised to find how little we cared for it, and how 
 well one can get on without many things which 
 are thought indispensable. 
 
 For the last fortnight we were in the house 
 a good deal, because the weather was wet and 
 dreary. At one time there was a magnificent 
 storm, and we went every day along the shore in 
 the wind and rain for a mile or two to see the fu- 
 ll p
 
 242 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 rious great breakers come plunging in against the 
 rooks. I never had seen such a wild, stormy sea 
 as that ; the rage of it was awful, and the whole 
 harbor was white with foam. The wind had 
 blown northeast steadily for days, and it seemed 
 to me that the sea never could be quiet and 
 smooth and blue again, with soft white clouds 
 sailing over it in the sky. It was a treacherous 
 sea; it was wicked ; it had all the trembling land 
 in its power, if it only dared to send its great 
 waves far ashore. All night long the breakers 
 roared, and the wind howled in the chimneys, and 
 in the morning we always looked fearfully across 
 the surf and the tossing gray water to see if the 
 lighthouse were standing firm on its rock. It 
 was so slender a thing to hold its own in such a 
 wide and monstrous sea. But the sun came out 
 at last, and not many days afterward we went out 
 with Danny and Skipper Scudder to say good by 
 to Mrs. Kew. I have been some voyages at sea, 
 but I never was so danced about in a little boat 
 as I was that day. There was nothing to fear 
 with so careful a crew, and we only enjoyed the 
 roughness as we went out and in, though it took 
 much manoeuvring to land us at the island. 
 
 It was very sad work to us saying good
 
 LAST DA YS IN DEEPHA VEX. 243 
 
 by to our friends, and we tried to make be- 
 lieve that we should spend the next summer 
 in Deephaven, and we meant at any rate to go 
 down for a visit. We were glad when the people 
 said they should miss us, and that they hoped we 
 should not forget them and the old place. It 
 touched us to find that they cared so much for us, 
 and we said over and over again how happy we 
 had been, and that it was such a satisfactory sum- 
 mer. Kate laughingly proposed one evening, as 
 we sat talking by the fire and were particularly 
 contented, that we should copy the Ladies of 
 Llaugollen, and remove ourselves from society and 
 its distractions. 
 
 " I have thought often, lately," said my friend, 
 " what a good time they must have had, and I 
 feel a sympathy and friendliness for them which I 
 never felt before. We could have guests when we 
 chose, as we have had this summer, and we could 
 'study and grow very wise, and what could be 
 pleasanter ? But I wonder if we should grow very 
 lazy if we stayed here all the year round ; village 
 life is not stimulating, and there would not be 
 much to do in winter, though I do not believe 
 that need be true ; one may be busy and useful in 
 any place."
 
 244 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 " I suppose if we really belonged in Deephaven 
 we should think it a hard fate, and not enjoy it 
 half so much as we have this summer," said I. 
 "Our idea of happiness would be making long 
 visits in Boston ; and we should be heart-broken 
 when we had to come away and leave our lunch- 
 parties, and symphony concerts, and calls, and 
 fairs, the reading-club and the childrens' hospital. 
 We should think the people uncongenial and behind 
 the times, and that the Ridge road was stupid and 
 the long sands desolate ; while we remembered what 
 delightful walks we had taken out Beacon Street 
 to the three roads, and over the Cambridge Bridge. 
 Perhaps we should even be ashamed of the dear 
 old church for being so out of fashion. We should 
 have the blues dreadfully, and think there was no 
 society here, and wonder why we had to live in 
 such a town." 
 
 " What a gloomy picture ! " said Kate, laughing. 
 " Do you know that I have understood something' 
 lately better than I ever did before, it is that 
 success and happiness are not things of chance 
 with us, but of choice. I can see how we might 
 so easily have had a dull summer here. Of 
 course it is our own fault if the events of our lives 
 are hindrances ; it is we who make them bad or
 
 LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN. 245 
 
 good. Sometimes it is a conscious choice, but 
 oftener unconscious. I suppose we educate our- 
 selves for taking the best of life or the worst, do 
 not you 1 " 
 
 " Dear old Deephaven ! " said Kate, gently, after 
 we had been silent a little while. " It makes me 
 think of one of its own old ladies, with its clinging 
 to the old fashions and its respect for what used 
 to be respectable when it was young. I cannot 
 make fun of what was once dear to somebody, and 
 which realized somebody's ideas of beauty or fitness. 
 I don't dispute the usefulness of a new, bustling, 
 manufacturing town with its progressive ideas ; 
 but there is a simple dignity in a town like Deep- 
 haven, as if it tried to be loyal to the traditions of 
 its ancestors. It quietly accepts its altered circum- 
 stances, if it has seen better days, and has no harsh 
 feelings toward the places which have drawn away 
 its business, but it lives on, making its old houses 
 and boats and clothes last as long as possible." 
 
 " I think one cannot help," said I, " having a 
 different affection for an old place like Deep- 
 haven from that which one may have for a newer 
 town. Here though there are no exciting his- 
 torical associations and none of the veneration 
 which one has for the very old cities and towns
 
 246 DEEP HA VEX. 
 
 abroad it is impossible not to remember how 
 many people have walked the streets and lived in 
 the houses. I was thinking to-day how many girls 
 might have grown up in this house, and that their 
 places have been ours ; we have inherited their 
 pleasures, and perhaps have carried on work which 
 they began. We sit in somebody's favorite chair 
 and look out of the windows at the sea, and have 
 our wishes and our hopes and plans just as they 
 did before us. Something of them still lingers 
 where their lives were spent. We are often re- 
 minded of our friends who have died ; why are 
 we not reminded as surely of strangers in such a 
 house as this, finding some trace of the lives 
 which were lived among the sights we see and the 
 things we handle, as the incense of many masses 
 lingers in some old cathedral, and one catches the 
 spirit of longing and prayer where so many heavy 
 hearts have brought their burdens and have gone 
 away comforted 1 " 
 
 " When I first came here," said Kate, " it used 
 to seem very sad to me to find Aunt Katharine's 
 little trinkets lying about the house. I have often 
 thought of what you have just said. I heard Mrs. 
 Pat ton say the other day that there is no pocket 
 in a shroud, and of course it is better that we
 
 LAST DATS IN DEEPHAVEN. 247 
 
 should carry nothing out of this world. Yet I 
 can't help wishing that it were possible to keep 
 some of my worldly goods always. There are one 
 or two books of mine and some little things which 
 I have had a long time, and of which I have grown 
 very fond. It makes me so sorry to think of their 
 being neglected and lost. I cannot believe I shall 
 forget these earthly treasures when I am in heaven, 
 and I wonder if 1 shall not miss them. Is n't it 
 strange to think of not reading one's Bible any 
 more 1 I suppose this is a very low view of 
 heaven, don't you 1 ?" And we both smiled. 
 
 " I think the next dwellers in this house ought 
 to find a decided atmosphere of contentment," said 
 I. " Have you ever thought that it took us some 
 time to make it your house instead of Miss Bran- 
 don's 1 It used to seem to me that it was still 
 under her management, that she was its mistress ; 
 but now it belongs to you, and if I were ever to 
 come back without you I should find you here." 
 
 It is bewildering to know that this is the last 
 chapter, and that it must not be long. I remem- 
 ber so many of our pleasures of which I have 
 hardly said a word. There were our guests, of 
 whom I have told you nothing, and of whom there
 
 248 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 was so much to say. Of course we asked my Aunt 
 Mary to visit us, and Miss Margaret Tennant, and 
 many of our girl-friends. All the people we know 
 who have yachts made the port of Deephaven 
 if they were cruising in the neighboring waters. 
 Once a most cheerful party of Kate's cousins and 
 some other young people whom we knew very 
 well came to visit us in this way, and the yacht was 
 kept in the harbor a week or more, while we were 
 all as gay as bobolinks and went frisking about the 
 country, and kept late hours in the sober old Bran- 
 don house. My Aunt Mary, who was with us, and 
 Kate's aunt, Mrs. Thorniford, who knew the Carews, 
 and was commander of the yacht-party, tried to 
 keep us in order, and to make us ornaments to 
 Deephaven society instead of reproaches and stum- 
 bling-blocks. Kate's younger brothers were with 
 us, waiting until it was time for them to go back 
 to college, and I think there never had been such 
 picnics in Deephaven before, and I fear there never 
 will be again. 
 
 We are fond of reading, and we meant to do a 
 great deal of it, as eveiy one does who goes away 
 for the summer ; but I must confess that our grand 
 plans were not well carried out. Our German 
 dictionaries were on the table in the west parlor
 
 LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN. 249 
 
 until the sight of them mortified us, and finally, 
 to avoid their silent reproach, I put them in the 
 closet, with the excuse that it would be as easy to 
 get them there, and they would be out of the way. 
 We used to have the magazines sent us from town ; 
 YOU would have smiled at the box of books which 
 we carried to Deephaven, and indeed we sent two 
 or three times for others ; but I do not remember 
 that we ever carried out that course of study which 
 we had planned with so much interest. We were 
 out of doors so much that there was often little 
 time for anything else. 
 
 Kate said one day that she did not care, in 
 reading, to be always making new acquaintances, 
 but to be seeing more of old ones ; and I think 
 it a very wise idea. We each have our pet books ; 
 Kate carries with her a much-worn copy of " Mr. 
 Rutherford's Children," which has been her delight 
 ever since she can remember. Sibyl and Chryssa 
 are dear old friends, though I suppose now it is not 
 merely what Kate reads, but what she associates 
 with the story. I am not often separated from 
 Jean Ingelow's "Stories told to a Child," that 
 charmingly wise and pleasant little book. It is 
 always new, like Kate's favorite. It is very hard 
 to make a list of the books one likes best, but I 
 11*
 
 250 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 remember that we had " The Village on the Cliff," 
 and " Henry Esmond," and " Tom Brown at Rug- 
 by," with his more serious ancestor, u Sir Thomas 
 Browne." I am sure we had "Fenelon," for we 
 always have that ; and there was " Pet Marjorie," 
 and " Rab," and "Annals of a Parish," and "The 
 Life of the Reverend Sydney Smith " ; beside Miss 
 Tytler's " Days of Yore," and " The Holy and 
 Profane State," by Thomas Fuller, from winch 
 Kate gets so much entertainment and profit. We 
 read Mr. Emerson's essays together, out of doors, 
 and some stories which had been our dear friends 
 at school, like " Leslie Goldthwaite." There was a 
 very good library in the house, and we both like 
 old books, so we enjoyed that. And we used to 
 read the Spectator, and many old-fashioned stories 
 and essays and sermons, with much more pleasure 
 because they had such quaint old 5 brown leather 
 bindings. You will not doubt that we had some 
 cherished volumes of poetry, or that we used to 
 read them aloud to each other when we sat in our 
 favorite corner of the rocks at the shore, or were 
 in the pine woods of an afternoon. 
 
 We used to go out to tea, and do a great deal 
 of social visiting, which was very pleasant. Din- 
 ner-parties were not in fashion, though it was a
 
 LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN. 251 
 
 great attention to be asked to spend the day, which 
 courtesy we used to delight in extending to our 
 friends ; and we entertained company in that way 
 often. When we first went out we were somewhat 
 interesting on account of our clothes, which were 
 of later pattern than had been adopted generally 
 in Deephaven. We used to take great pleasure in 
 arraying ourselves on high days and holidays, since 
 when we went wandering on shore, or out sailing 
 or rowing, we did not always dress as befitted our 
 position in the town. Fish-scales and blackberry- 
 briers so soon disfigure one's clothes. 
 
 We became in the course of time learned in all 
 manner of 'longshore lore, and even profitably em- 
 ployed ourselves one morning in going clam-dig- 
 ging with old Ben Horn, a most fascinating ancient 
 mariner. We both grew so well and brown and 
 strong, and Kate and I did not get tired of each 
 other at all, which I think was wonderful, for few 
 friendships would bear such a test. We were to- 
 gether always, and alone together a great deal : 
 and we became wonderfully well acquainted. We 
 are such good friends that we often were silent 
 for a long time, when mere acquaintances would 
 have felt compelled to talk and try to entertain 
 each other.
 
 252 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 Before we left the leaves had fallen off all the 
 trees except the oaks, which make in cold weather 
 one of the dreariest sounds one ever hears : a 
 shivering rustle, which makes one pity the tree 
 and imagine it shelterless and forlorn. The sea 
 had looked rough and cold for many days, and the 
 old house itself had grown chilly, all the world 
 seemed waiting for the snow to come. There was 
 nobody loitering on the wharves, and when we 
 went down the street we walked fast, arm in arm, 
 to keep warm. The houses were shut up as 
 close as possible, and the old sailors did not 
 seem cheery any longer ; they looked forlorn, and 
 it was not a pleasant prospect to be so long 
 weather-bound in port. If they ventured out, 
 they put on ancient great-coats, with huge flaps 
 to the pockets and large horn buttons, and they 
 looked contemptuously at the vane, which always 
 pointed to the north or east. It felt like winter, 
 and the captains rolled more than ever as they 
 walked, as if they were on deck in a heavy sea. 
 The rheumatism claimed many victims, and there 
 was one day, it must be confessed, when a biting, 
 icy fog was blown in-shore, that Kate and I were 
 willing to admit that we could be as comfortable in 
 town, and it was almost time for sealskin jackets.
 
 LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN. 253 
 
 In the front yards we saw the flower-beds black 
 with frost, except a few brave pansies which had 
 kept green and had bloomed under the tall china- 
 aster stalks, and one day we picked some of these 
 little flowers to put between the leaves of a book 
 and take away with us. 1 think we loved Deep- 
 haven all the more in those last days, with a bit 
 of compassion in our tenderness for the dear old 
 town which had so little to amuse it. So long a 
 winter was coming, but we thought with a sigh 
 how pleasant it would be in the spring. 
 
 You would have smiled at the treasures we 
 brought away with us. We had become so fond 
 of even our fishing-lines ; and this very day you 
 may see in Kate's room two great bunches 
 of Deephaven cat-o'-nine-tails. They were much 
 in our way on the journey home, but we clung 
 affectionately to these last sheaves of our har- 
 vest. 
 
 The morning we came away our friends were all 
 looking out from door or window to see us go by, 
 and after we had passed the last house and there 
 was no need to smile any longer, we were very 
 dismal. The sun was shining again bright and 
 warm as if the Indian summer were beginning, and 
 we wished that it had been a rainy day.
 
 254 DEEPHA YEN. 
 
 The thought of Deephaven -will always bring to 
 us our long quiet summer days, and reading aloud 
 on the rocks by the sea, the fresh salt air, and 
 the glory of the sunsets ; the wail of the Sunday 
 psalm-singing at church, the yellow lichen that 
 grew over the trees, the houses, and the stone-walls ; 
 our boating and wanderings ashore ; our impor- 
 tance as members of society, and how kind eveiy 
 one was to us both. By and by the Deephaven 
 warehouses will fall and be used for firewood by 
 the fisher -people, and the wharves will be worn 
 away by the tides. The few old gentlefolks who 
 still linger will be dead then ; and I wonder if 
 some day Kate Lancaster and I will go down to 
 Deephaven for the sake of old times, and read the 
 epitaphs in the burying-ground, look out to sea, 
 and talk quietly about the girls who were so happy 
 there one summer long before. I should like to 
 walk along the beach at sunset, and watch the 
 color of the marshes and the sea change as the 
 light of the sky goes out. It would make the old 
 days come back vividly. "VVe should see the roofs 
 and chimneys of the village, and the great Chantrey 
 elms look black against the sky. A little later the 
 marsh fog would show faintly white, and we should 
 feel it deliciously cold and wet against our hands
 
 LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN. 
 
 255 
 
 and faces; when we looked up there would be a 
 star ; the crickets would chirp loudly ; perhaps 
 some late sea-birds would fly inland. Turning, we 
 should see the lighthouse lamp shine out over the 
 water, and the great sea would move and speak to 
 us lazily in its idle, high-tide sleep. 
 
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