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ILLINOIS

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN

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' LIBRARY OF THE N
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
AT URBANA-CHAMPAICN

813

J55d

1893

- . ...

HlHl

The Brandon HouseDEEPHAVEN

BY SARAH ORNE JEWETT
ILLUSTRATED BY
CHARLES AND MARCIA
WOODBURY

LONDON
OSGOOD, McILVAINE & CO.
45 Albemarle Street, W.

1893The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.
Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company.f /3

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Contents and List of Illustrations

CD	From Designs by

N

Oj Charles Herbert and Marcia Oakes IVoodbury

rH

CX	TAQE

<C	The Brandon House . . . Frontispiece

CONTENTS AND LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS v

^ -v Headpiece........ v

4j	Tailpiece.........vii

Q

-J	PREFACE..................t

v	Headpiece..........

KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN ....	9

Boston . ............9

The Stage-Coach.......16

Mrs. Kew.........21

-

THE BRANDON HOUSE AND THE LIGHT-
HOUSE ........24

The Garret .........24

One Young Girl.......31

The Hall...........

In the Dory........4-vi	CONTENTS AND

MY LADY BRANDON AND THE WIDOW JIM,	46

Widow Jim's House .......46

Mrs. Patton (The Widow Jim)	...	53

Miss Brandon at her Piano .	61

The Graveyard .	......69

Mrs. Dockum ........	77

DEEP HAVEN SOCIETY......80

Chantrey Elms........80

Widow Tully............86

The Sunday Dinner .......	91

Mr. Dick and Mr. Lorimer . ... . .99

THE CAPTAINS......I03

Old Warehouses........I0^

The Old Captains.......IOg

DANNY..........lI7

Boats Going Out . . . . . . #	ny

The Fish Houses . . ......I2^

Danny............

CAPTAIN SANDS........13S

Ruined Wharves.......'

Captain Sands........

THE CIRCUS AT DENBY.....i5i

Going to the Circus..........

Posters on 'Bijah Mauley's Barn . . . .

" My sakes alive, ain't he big ! ".....^1

The Lecture Notice .	... .	176

CUNNER-FISHING..........

The Butcher's Cart.......^

The Hannah.......- _	Tg^

The Lighthouse.......I(^

Landing the Dory........19g

Skipper Scudder.......203

Captain Sands telling Stories.....211

Bedtime............224

MRS, BONNY.............226

Mrs. Bonny Gathering Herbs.....226

Mrs. Bonny's Home.......233

Mrs. Bonny at Home......239LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS	vii

IN SHADOW.........244

Pitch Pines........244

A Pebble Beach........249

The Funeral........257

Forsaken.........265

MISS CHAUNCEY.......267

East Parish.........267

Miss Chauncey........271

Miss Chauncey's Garden ......	283

LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN ....	288

The Storm.........288

Somebody's Favorite Chair.....294

Clam Digging........301

Tailpiece .........305Preface

The short lifetime of this little book has
seen great changes in the conditions of
provincial life in New England. Twenty
years ago, or a little more, the two heroines
whose simple adventures are here described
might well have served as types of those pio-
neers who were already on the eager quest for
rural pleasures. T'wenty years ago, our fast-
growing New England cities, which had so
lately been but large towns, full of green gar-
dens and quiet neighborhoods, were just begin-
ning to be overcrowded and uncomfortable in
summer. The steady inflow of immigration,
and the way in which these cities had drawn
to themselves, like masses of quicksilver,
much of the best life of the remotest villages,
had made necessary a reflex current that set
countryward in summer. This presently
showed itself to be of unsuspected force and2

PREFACE

significance: it meant something more than the
instinct for green fields and hills and the sea-
shore ; crowded towns and the open country
were to be brought together in new association
and dependence upon each other It appeared
as if a second Harvey had discovered a new
and national circulation of vitality along the
fast-multiplying railroads that spun their zvebs
to bind together men ivho had once lived far
apart. The civil war, which had given so
many citizens of the North their first journey
and first knowledge of the world outside their
native parishes; the fashion set before the
war by those gay Southerners who for the
most part filled the few mountain and sea-
shore hotels of the North; the increase of
wealthy and of the number of persons zvho had
houses in town and country both} — all these
causes brought about great and almost sud-
den changes in rustic life. Old farmhouses
opened their doors to the cheerful gayety of
summer; the old jokes about the respective
aggressions and ignorances of city and country
cousins gave place to new compliments be-
tween the summer boarder and his rustic host.
It began to appear that neither men nor tvomen
of the great tow?is were any longer stayers-at-
home according to the Scripture admonition.PREFACE

3

The young ivriter of these Deephaven
sketches was possessed by a dark fear that
townspeople and country people would never
understand one another, or learn to profit by
their new relationship. She may have had
the unconscious desire to make some sort
of explanation to those who still expccted
to find the caricatured Yankee of fiction,
striped trouserst bell-crowned hat, and all,
driving his steady horses along the shady
roads. It seemed not altogether reasonable
when timid ladies mistook a selectman for a
tramp, because he happened to be crossing a
field tn his shirt sleeves. At the same time,
she was sensible of grave wrong and misun-
derstanding when these same timid ladies
zvere regarded with suspicion, and their kind-
nesses were believed to come from pride and
patronage. There is a noble saying of Plato
that the best thing that can be done for the
people of a state is to make them acquainted
with one another. It zvas, happily, in the
writer s childhood that Mrs. Stowe had writ-
ten of those who dwelt along the wooded sea-
coast and by the decaying, shipless harbors of
Maine. The first chapters of " The Pearl of
Orrs Island'' gave the young author of " Deep-
havenj" to see with new eyes, and to follow4

PREFACE

eagerly the old shore paths from one gray,
weather-beaten house to another where Genius
pointed her the way.

In those days} if one had just passed her
twentieth year; it was easy to be much dis-
turbed by the sad discovery that certain phases
of provincial life were fast waning in New
England. Small and old-fashioned towns ^ of
which Deep haven may, by the reader's cour-
tesy % stand as a type, were no longer almost
self subsist'ent, as in earlier times ; and while
it was impossible to estimate the value of that
wider life that was flowing in from the great
springs, many a mournful villager felt the
anxiety that came with these years of change.
Tradition and time-honored custom were to
be swept away together by the irresistible cur-
- rent. Character and architecture seemed to
lose individuality and distinction. The new
riches of the country were seldom very well
spent in those days; the money that the
tourist or summer citizen left behind him
was apt to be used to sweep away the quaint
houses, the roadside thicket, the shady wood-
land\ that had lured him first; and the well-
filled purses that zvere scattered in our coun-
try s first great triumphal impulse of prosperity
often came into the hands of people whoPREFACE

5

hastened to spoil instead of to mend the best
things that their village held. It will remain
for later generations to make amends for the
sad use of riches after the war> for our injury
of what we inherited, for the irreparable loss
of certain ancient buildings which would have
been twice as interesting in the next century
as we are just beginning to be wise enough to
think them in this.

That all the individuality and quaint per-
sonal characteristics of rural New England
were so easily swept away, or are even now dy-
ing outy we can refuse to believe. It appears,
everi) that they are better nourished and shine
brighter by contrast than in former years. In
rustic neighborhoods there will always be those
whom George Sand had in mind when she
wrote her delightful preface for uLege?ides
Rustiques: " u Le pays an est done, si Von pent
atnsi dire, le seul Jiistorien qui nous reste des
temps antehistorique. Honmur et profit intel-
lectuel a qui se consacrerait a la recherche de
ses traditions merveilleuses de chaque hameau
qui rassembUes ou groupees> comparees entre
elles et minutieusement dissequeesi jetteraient
peut-itre de grandes lueurs sur le nuit prof onde
des ages pnmttifsThere will also exist that
other class of country people who preserve the6

PREFACE

best traditions of culture and of manners, from
some divine inborn instinct tozvard what is
simplest and best and purest, who knoiv the
best because they themselves are of kin to it.
It is as hard to be just to our contemporaries
as it is easy to borroiv enchantment in looking
at the figures of the past; but while the
Judges and Governors and grand ladies of
old Deephaven are being lamented,\ we must
not forget to observe that it is Miss Carew and
Miss Lorimer who lament them, and who in-
sist that there are no representatives of the
ancient charm and dignity of their beloved
town. Human nature is the same the world
over, provincial and rustic influences must
ever produce much the same effects upon char-
acter, and tozvn life will ever have in its gift
the spirit of the present, while it may lake
again from the quiet of hills and fields and
the conservatism of country hearts a gift from
the spirit of the past.

In the Preface to the first edition of " Deep-
haven " it was explained that Deephaven was
not to be found on the map of New England
under another name, and that the characters
were seldom drawn from life. It ivas often
asserted to the contrary, zvhile the separate
chapters were being published from time to
time in " The Atlantic Monthlyand madePREFACE

7

certain where the town really was, and the
true names of its citizens and pew-holders.
Therefore it appeared there were already
many "places in America" not "few," that
were " touched zvith the hue of decay." Ports-
mouth and York arid Wells, which were
known to the author, Fairhaven and other sea-
coast towns, which zvcre unknown, spoken
of as the originals of this fictitious village
which still exists only in the mind. Strangely
enough, ///<? Atlantic Ocean alzvays seems to lie
to the west of it rather than to the east,
the landscape generally takes its own way and
furnishes impossible landmarks and impres-
sions to the one person who can see it clearly
and in large. Some early knozvledge of the
secret found later in the delightful story of
" Peter Ibbetson " appears to have been fore-
seen, but a lack of experience and a limited
knowledge of the wide zvorld outside forced
the imaginer of Deep haven to build her dear
town of such restricted materials as lay within
her grasp. The landscape itself is always fa-
miliar to her thought, and far more real than
many others which have been seen since zvith
preoccupied or tired eyes.

The writer frankly confesses that the
greater part of any value which these sketches
may possess is in their youthfulness. There8

PREFACE

are sentences zvhick make her feel as if she
were the grandmother of the author of " Deep-
haven" and her heroines, those " tivo young
ladies of virtue and honour> bearing an invio-
lable friendship for each, other/' as two others,
less fortunate, are described in the preface to
" Clarissa HarloweShe begs her readers to
smile with her over those sentences as they are
found not seldom along the pages\ and so the
callow wings of what thought itself to be %vis-
dom and the childish soid of sentiment will
still be happy and untroubled.

In a curious personal sense the author re-
peats her attempt to explain the past and the
present to each other. This little book will
remind some of those friends who read it
first of

" —tight that lit the olden days ; "

but there arc kind eyes, unknozvu then> that
are very dear now, and to these the pages will
be new. This Preface must end as the first
Preface ended\ with a dedicatio7i to my father
and mother — my two best friends — and
then to all my other friends whose names I
say to myself lovingly, though I do not write
them here.

S. O.J

South Berwick, Maine, October, 1893.Kate Lancaster s Plan

I 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 go-
ing to happen. 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 dis-
quieted when I went down to breakfast; but
beside my plate I found, with a hoped-for
letter from my father, who was in China, a
note from Kate. To this day I have never
known any explanation of that depression ofTO

DEEPHAVEN

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.

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 Helen, — I have a plan — I think it a
most delightful 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.

K.

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 practicing with grfcat 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 some-KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN	I i

times be impolite in any one else, but she
shies so affectionately.

"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, what-
ever the tune 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 ; you would have thought we were
two children.

" Have you heard that my grand-aunt,
Miss Katharine Brandon of Deephaven, is
dead?"

I knew that she had died in November,
at least six months before. " Don't be non-
sensical, Kate!" said I. "What do you
mean to tell me ? "

" 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 in-
convenience to her. The house is a charm-
ing old house, and some of my ancestors
who followed the sea brought home the
greater part of its furnishings. Miss Kath-12

DEEPHAVEN

arine 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 trea-
sures, and when I was older she did not care
to see strangers, and after I left school, 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 depended upon ex-
citement, 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
pleasanter ? "

" 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,KATE LANCASTER'S PLAN	13

—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 ?"

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 wish 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 is willing to take the
house at Newport, which is very pleasant
and unexpected, for she hates housekeeping.
Mamma thought of course that I should stay
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 make14

DEEPHAVEN

her a long visit in Baltimore next winter in-
stead. 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 prom-
ised ; I could stay with you and your Aunt
Mary at Lenox if she goes there, for a while,
and I have always wished to spend a whole
summer in town ; but mamma did not en-
courage 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 that I
meant to spend my summer in Deephaven.

" 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 now that she were going
herself. I asked if she did not think you
would be the best person to keep me com-
pany, 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 haveKATE LANCASTER'S PLAN	IS

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. O Helen, won't you go?"

Do you think it took me long to decide?

Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster sailed the ioth of
June, and my Aunt Mary went to spend her
summer among the Berkshire Hills, so I
was at the Lancasters' 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 com-
pany with the people left in charge of the
other houses, who also sometimes walked up
and down and looked at us wonderingly.
We had much shopping to do in the daytime,
for there was a probability of our spending
many days indoors, 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 ar-
ranged. We enjoyed making our plans, andi6

DEEPHAVEN

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 house-
keepers in earnest. Mr. Dockum happened

The Stage-Coach

to come to town, and we sent Ann and Mag-
gie, 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 wasKATE LANCASTER'S PLAN	17

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
everybody was sweeping, and she always
felt, after being in the cars awhile, as if she
had been taken all to pieces and left in
the different places. This was the beginning
of our friendship with Mrs. Kew.

After this conversation we looked indus-
triously 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 grateful of women, and I was
often reminded of a remark one of my friends
once made about some 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, aren't they?" said she,
as Kate threw hers out of the window, and
mine went after it for company; and after18	DEEPHAVEN

this we began to be very friendly indeed. We
both liked the odd woman, there was some-
thing so straightforward and kindly about
her.

" Are you going to Deephaven, clear ?" 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 ? " asked
Kate.

" Well as I do the meeting-house. There !
I wonder I did n't know from the beginning,
but I had 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 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
^jge. ' He' wrote me some o' Mrs. Lancaster's
folks were going to take the Brandon house
this summer; and so you are the ones ? It's
a sightly old place ; I used to go and see Miss
Katharine. She must have left a power ofKATE LANCASTER'S PLAN	19

china-ware. She set a great deal by the
house, and she kept everything just as it used
to be in her mother's day."

"Then you live in Deephaven too ?" 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 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
January. There is n't no 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 ? I
remember how I used to beg to be taken out2 O

DEEPHAVEN

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 comparisons were
most striking and amusing, and her 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 gladMrs. KewKATE LANCASTER'S PLAN	23

to think, when the coach stopped, and " he "
came to meet her with great satisfaction,
that we had one friend in Deephaven 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 pop-
lars which stand in stately processions in
the fields around Quebec. It was an impos-
ing great white house, and the lilacs were
tall, and there were crowds of rosebushes 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 ?" 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 familiar at once. Maggie had
been unpacking for us, and there was a
delicious supper 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 Lighthouse

I 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 fab-
ulous. It was impossible to imagine any
children in the old place; everything was
for grown people ; even the stair-railing wasTHE BRANDON HOUSE	25

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 particu-
larly interesting, and I remember Kate's
pointing out to me one day a great square
figure 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 immedi-
ately 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 panelings 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 exchanging bows
and gestures. Coming from the Lancasters'
high city house, it did not seem as if we had26

DEEHIAVEN

to go upstairs at all there, for every step of
the stairway is so broad and low, and you
come halfway 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 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 wan-
derings. 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 two 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 hidden 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 noTHE BRANDON HOUSE	27

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-fash-
ioned kind of white cloth which always
seemed to be waving and moving about of
itself. The carpet was most singularly col-
ored 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 acquaint-
ances 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 tied28

DEEPHAVEN

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
something about the room which suggested
an invisible funeral.

. There is not very much to say about the din-
ing-room. It was not specially interesting,
though the sea was in sight from the win-
dows. 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 companions of the tea-service in her
aunt's lifetime. From the little closets in
the sideboard came a most significant odor
of cake and wine whenever one opened the
doors. We used Miss Brandon's beautifulTHE BRANDON HOUSE	29

old blue china, which she had given to Kate,
and which had been carefully packed all
winter as if to be taken away.. Kate sat at
the head and I at the foot of the round table,
and I must confess that we were apt to have
either a feast or a famine, for at first we often
forgot to provide our 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 necessary
for one of Mrs. Lancaster's dinner-parties.

The west parlor was our favorite room downT
stairs. It had a great fireplace framed in blue
and white Dutch tiles, which ingeniously and
instructively 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. The 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 assem-
blage 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 and knick-knacks there
seemed to be no other place for, — odd chinaDEEPHAVEN

figures and cups and vases, unaccountable
Chinese carvings and exquisite corals and sea-
shells, minerals and Swiss wood-work, and
articles of vertu from the South Seas. Un-
derneath were stored boxes of letters and old
magazines; for this was one of the houses
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 of this room had each a pane of
beautiful old stained glass in the upper and
lower sashes, apparently taken from some
older English house, with quaint shields and
crests, and on the wide sills beneath 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 musicTHE BRANDON HOUSE

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 be-
ing there.

There was
one young
girl who
seemed soli-
tary and for-
lorn among
the rest in
the room,

who were all
middle-aged.

For their
p a r t t h e y	0ne Vm«e Girl

looked amiable, but rather unhappy, as if she
had come in, and interrupted their conversa-
tion. We both grew very foncl 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 saw3^

DEEPHAVEN

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 with our books, and was very high
and_ square; but there was a pile of soft
cushions at either end. We used to enjoy it
very much in September, when the evenings
were long and cool, and we had many can-
dles, and a fire—and crickets too — on the
hearth, and the dear dog lying on the rug.
I remember one rainy night, just before our
friends Miss Tennant and Kitty Bruce went
away; we had a real driftwood fire, and blew
out the lights and told stories. Kate and I
were unusually entertaining, for we became
familiar with -the family record of the town,
and could recount marvelous 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 traveled people!
Hardly a man but had been the most of his
life at sea. Speaking of ghost-stories, I must
tell you that once in the summer two Cam-
Tyndge girls, who were spending a week with
us, unwisely 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 ITHE BRANDON HOUSE	33

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 something white and shapeless come
slowly down, and clutched each other s gowns
in agony. It was only Kate's great 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, aftd,
finding 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, 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. Kew 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 ten34

DEEPHAVEN

sets of cups, besides 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 ribbon. They were in a drawer
with a locket holding a faded miniature on
ivory and a lock of brown hair, and there
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 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, with-
out untying them. I'm glad we did, but we
felt more than heroic at the time. There were
other letters which we did read, and which
interested us very much,—letters from herTHE BRANDON HOUSE	35

girl friends written in the boarding-school
vacations and just after she finished school.
Those in one of the smaller packages were
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 evidently been untied and the
letters read many times. One began : " My
dear, delightful Kitten: I am quite over-
joyed to find my father has business 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 send me back. I have so much
to tell you." I wish we knew more about
the visit. Poor Miss Katharine! it made
us sad to look over these treasures of her
girlhood. There were her compositions and
exercise-books; some samplers and queer
little keepsakes; withered flowers and some
pretty 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 am36

DEEPHAVEN

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 bro-
ther had become a Roman Catholic while
studying in Europe. It was a dreadful blow
to the family ; for in those sternly Protestant
days there could have been few deeper dis-
graces to the Brandon family than to have
one of its sons change his form of religion.
Only Miss Katharine treated him with kind-
ness, 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 was a great grief to her. " And
mamma knows," said Kate, "that she always
had a lingering hope of his return or.to hear
that he was cloistered somewhere, 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; 4 you '11 think me a very foolish old
woman, but I never quite gave up thinking
he might come home/ "The Hall

\THE BRANDON HOUSE

39

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 smiling youth of forty, lived with
them, and the two men were of a mechanical
turn and had invented numerous aids to
housekeeping, — appendages 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 apparatus
to close them; but, above all, a system of
barring and bolting for the wide "fore door/'
which would have disconcerted an energetic
battering-ram. After all this work being ex-
pended, Mrs. Kew informed us that it was
usually wide open all night in summer
weather. On the back of this door I dis-
covered 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
depredations of the neighbors' chickens. Mrs.
Kew's bedroom was partly devoted to the fine
arts. There was a large collection of like-
nesses of her relatives and friends on the
wall, which was interesting in the extreme.
Mrs. Kew was always much pleased to tell
their names, and her remarks about any40

DEEPHAVEN

feature not exactly perfect were very search-
ing and critical, "That's my oldest bro-
ther'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 hav-
ing 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 listening to a reminis-
cence 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 offered to go up with the
visitors. There were some girls and young
men who stood on the rocks awhile, and then
asked us, with much better manners than the
people who usually came, if they could see
the "lighthouse, 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 celebrated Lancaster com-
plexion was much darkened by the sun, Mrs.
Kew expressed a wish to know what ques-
tions they would ask her, and'I followed afterTHE BRANDON HOUSE	41

a few minutes. They seemed to have finished
asking about the lantern, and to have become
personal.

" Don't you get tired staying here ?"

"No, indeed!" said Kate.

" Is that your sister downstairs ?"

"No, I have no sister."

" I should think you would wish she was.
Are n't you ever lonesome ? "

" 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 '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 be-
hind 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 me, and the others out of hearing,
she said, " You 're real good to show us the
things. I guess you'll think I'm silly, but I
do like you ever so much ! I. wish you would42

DEEPHAVEN

come to Boston. I'm in a real nice store, —

H-'s, on Winter Street; and they '11 want

new help in October. Perhaps 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 I like to send
my 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, 111
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 ever so much," said she; "but I cannot
go and work with you. I should like to know
you. I live in Boston too; my friend and I
are staying over in Deepha\ren for the sum-
mer only." 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.

"Oh, will you please excuse me?" said
she, blushing. " I ought to have known bet-
ter ; but you showed us round so willing, and
I never thought of your not living here. I
did n't mean to be rude."THE BRANDON HOUSE

43

" Of course you did not, and you were not.
I am so 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
a dear, 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 in the
house with Mrs. Kew, who often related
some of her Vermont experiences, or Mr.
Kew would tell us surprising sea:storIei"
ancTj^host-stories like a "story-book sailor.
TherTwe 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 sun-
set. Almost all the coasters came in sight of
Deephaven, and the sea outside the Light was
their grand highway. Twice from the light-
house 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 caught44

DEEPHAVEN

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 daz-
zling golden light changed the look of every-
thing, and it was the time then to say one
thought it a beautiful sunset; while before
one could 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

WPtrV) Pfl	Qfnt*q rnmp nnf onJ

we nact cnosen when we were children. ITHE BRANDON HOUSE

45

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 evening we waited out at sea for the
moonrise, and then we would take the oars
again and go slowly in, once in a while sing-
ing or talking, but oftenest silent.

My Lady Brandon and the Widow Jim

WHEN it was known that we had ar-
rived in Deephaven, the people who
had known Miss Brandon so well, and Mrs.
Lancaster also, seemed to consider them-
selves Kate's friends by inheritance, and
were most kind and friendly in either com-
ing to see us or sending pleasant messages.
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 misfortune to belong to the navy,—MY LADY BRANDON

47

that is, my father does, — and my life has been
consequently an unsettled one except during
the years of my school life, when my friend-
ship 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 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. Perhaps 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 Deep-
haven we were between 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 pleasant age,
though I think next year is sure to be pleas-
anter, for we do not mind growing older,
since we 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 and48

DEEPHAVEN

endow her with imagined virtues and graces ;
no one can fail to see how unaffected she is,
or not notice her thoughtfulness and gen-
erosity and her delightful fun, which never
has a trace of coarseness or silliness. It was
very pleasant having her for one's companion
in such a place as Deephaven, for she has
an unusual power of winning people's confi-
dence, and of knowing with surest instinct
how to meet thefti on their own ground. It
is the girl's being so genuinely sympathetic
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 found that we were considered Miss
Brandon's representatives in Deephaven so-MY LADY BRANDON

49

ciety, and this was no slight responsibility,
as she had received much honor and respect.
We heard again and again what a loss she
had been to the town, and we tried that sum-
mer to do nothing to lessen the family reputa-
tion, 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-
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 con-
servative, 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 they were part of her
religion. There is something immensely re-
spectable about such gentlewomen of the
old school. They ignore all bustle and flashi-
ness, 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 posi-
tion in modern society is much like-that of
the King's Chapel in its busy street in Bos-
ton ; they stand for something assured and
permanent. It perhaps might not have been
easy to approach Miss Brandon, but it would
have been impossible not to pay her greatDEEPHAVEN

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 one!

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 behavior; 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 imposing
ladies and gentlemen as those who belong to
the old school.

The morning after we reached Deephaven
we were busy upstairs, and there was a de-
termined 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 ey~es were as
bright as black beads. She wore no bonnet,
and had thrown a little three-cornered shawl,
with palm-leaf figures, over her shoulders ;
and it was evident that she was a near neigh-
bor. She was very short and straight and
thin, and so quick that she darted like aMY LADY BRANDON

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 courtesy. "Miss Lanc'ster?" said she,
doubtfully.

"No," said I, "I'm Miss Denis. Miss
Lancaster is at home, though: come in, won't
you?"

"O Mrs. Patton!" 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. Pat-
ton, 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 Brandon
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 s'pose. It was a windy day in the
spring of the year."

"I remember it very well," said Kate.

LIBRARY

JNIVFRSmf OF ILLINOISDEEPHAVEN

" Those were both visits of only a clay 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."

" Now, who ever would ha' thought o' your
reflecting 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 'em, but they-used
to make sights o' currant wine in old times,
I s'pose that mug would be considerable of
a curiosity to anybody that was n't used to
seeing it round. My grand'ther Joseph Tog-
gerson—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 shouldn't ha' thought you'd
remembered 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 memoryMY LADY BRANDON

53

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, —

Mrs. Patton (The IVidow Jim)

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 ? "54

DEEPHAVEN

" No," said Kate; "she wishes she could :
it is a great puzzle to us,"

" I hope you will find it in middling order,"
said Mrs. Patton, humbly. " Me and Mis'
Dockum have done the best we knew, —
opened the windows and let in the air, and
tried to keep it from getting damp. I fixed
all the woolens with fresh camphire and to-
bacco, 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 some-
thing 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 clo-
set next to Miss Katharine's room, and I set
a trap there, but it was older 'n the ten com-
mandments, that trap wTas, and the spring's
rusty. I guess you'd better get some new
ones and set round in different 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'll be sure to
come back quick as they find there's likely
to be good board. I see your aunt's cat set-
ting out on the front steps. She never was
no great of a mouser, but it went to my heart
to see how pleased she looked! Come rightMY LADY BRANDON

55

back, did n't she ? How they do hold to their
old haunts ! "

"Was that Miss Brandon's cat?" 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 con-
tented. She used to set on the steps and
mew 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'
heared her scold me when she found it out;
and she come marching right into my kitchen
door one morning, like a grenadier, and saysDEEPHAVEN

she, 'Why didn't you send and tell me how
sick and poor you are?' says she. And she
said she'd ha' been so glad to help me. all
along, but she thought I had means, — every-
body did; and I see the tears in her eyes,
but she was scolding me and speaking as if
she was dreadful provoked. She made me
comfortable herself, and she sent over one o*
her maids to see to me, and got the doctor,
and a load o' stuff come up from the store,
so I didn'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 her 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 ? She was a
good Christian woman, Miss Katharine was.
' The memory of the just is blessed ;' that's
what Mr. Lorimer^said~lirTnr^rmon the
Sunday after she died, and there was n't aMY LADY BRANDON

57

blood-relation there to hear it. I declare it
looked pitiful to see that pew empty that
ought to ha' been the mourners' pew. Your
mother, Mis' Lancaster, had to go home
Saturday, your father was going away sud-
den to Washington, I 've understood, and she
come back again the first of the week. There!
it didn't make no sort o' difference, p'raps
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 herself,
regular as Sunday come." And Mrs. Patton
looked for a minute as if she were going
to cry, but changed her mind upon second
thought.

"Your mother gave me most of Miss
Katharine's clothes; this cap belonged to her,
that I 've got on now; it's 'most wore out,
but it does for mornings."

"Oh," 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 to sea? I shall set everything by them
caps, and I 'm much obliged to you too, Miss58

DEEPHAVEN

Kate. I was just going to speak of that
time you were here and saw the 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.
Patton, 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 pre-
suming beyond my station, and somehow I
feel more respect for myself when I have a
good cap on. I can't get over your mother's
reflecting 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 upstairs. She
liked to go round same 's if it was day. You
see I forget all the time she was sick7 andMY LADY BRANDON

59

go back to the days when she was well and
about the house. When her mind was fail-
ing her, and she was upstairs 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 middle
o' the day, and then she 'd be as satisfied!
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 re-
flect how she used to play the piano? She
used to be a great hand to play when she was
young."

" Indeed, I remember it," said Kate, who
told me afterward how her aunt used to sit
at the piano in the twilight and play to her-
self. " She was formerly a skillful musi-
cian," said my friend, "though one would
not have imagined she cared for music.
When I was a child she used to play in com-
pany 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 be-
lieve 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 to6o

DEEPHAVEN

think she was cross, — she would open the
piano and sit there until late, while I used to
be enchanted 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 ca-
dence in it, and she would come back to it
again and again, always going through with
it in the same measured way. I have' re-
membered 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 heart-
ily. 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; ofMiss Brandon at her PianoMY LADY BRANDON

63

course, it was not long before we returned
her visit, and we were much entertained; we
always liked to see our friends in their own
houses. Her house was a little way down
the road, unpainted and gambrel-roofed, but
so low that the old lilac-bushes which clus-
tered 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 villages. She sewed,
and made elaborate rugs, and she had a de-
cided talent for making carpets, — if there
were one to be made, which must have hap-
pened 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 X.
knew how to brew every old-fashioned dose )
and to make every variety of herb-tea, and C
when her nursing was put to an end by her f
patient's death, she was commander-in-chief X
at the funeral, and stood near the doorway
to direct the mourning friends to their seats ;
and I have no reason to doubt that she some-
times even had the immense responsibility of64

DEEFIIAVEN

making out the order of the procession, since
she had all genealogy and relationship at her
tongue's end. It was an awful thing in
Deephaven, 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 unassuming 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 twit-
ters, and you did not tire of her ; and Kate and
I were never more agreeably 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 Deep-
haven for a long time, or had received the
particulars from reliable witnesses. She had
known much trouble; her husband had been
but small satisfaction to her, and it was not
to be wondered at if she looked upon all pro-
posed marriages with compassion. She was.
always early at church, and she wore the
same bonnet that she had worn when KateMY LADY BRANDON	65

was a child; it was such a well-preserved,
proper, black straw bonnet, with discreet
bows of ribbon, and a useful lace veil to pro-
tect it from the weather.

She showed us into the best room the first
time we went to see her. It was the plain-
est little room, and very dull, and there was
an exact sufficiency 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-fashioned
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, in-
scribed with the names of Mrs. Patton's de-
parted friends, — two worked in crewel to the
memory of her father and mother, and two
paper memorials, with the woman weeping
under a 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 t^o grand for use,66

DEEPHAVEN

and considered itself imposing. It tilted far
back on its rockers, and was bent forward at
the top to 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 , was imaginary
with her, as she was so short that she could
hardly have climbed into it without assist-
ance, and then would have found herself off
soundings, as the sailors say.

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 Par-
ish," 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 lookedMY LADY BRANDON	67

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, dears. But land sakes
alive, 'he' did n't mean no hurt! and he set
everything by me when he 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
a chance to tell her sorrows to a sympa-
thizing audience. She did not seem to
mind talking about the troubles of her mar-
ried life any more than a soldier minds tell-
ing 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
appearance of great wisdom, that she did not
think it could be necessary at all.

" I come home and had a good cry yester-
day after I was over to see you/' said Mrs.68

DEEPHAVEN

Pattern, 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
wind. " Your aunt had been failin' so long
that just after she died it was a relief, but
I've got so's to forget all about that, and 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 watched with her the night she died,"
said the widow, with mournful satisfaction.
" I have lived neighbor to her all my life ex-
cept 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 clean-
ing 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 ? There's Mis' Lancas-
ter's daughter a growing up ' ; but she did n't
seem to care for nobody but your mother.
You would n't believe what a hand she usedThe GraveyardMY LADY BRANDON	71

to be for company in her younger days. Sur-
prisin' 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 the top of the fashion. She
always did dress elegant 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 bro-
thers 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 handsome. I rec'lect one
night they was a playin' after the wine was
brought in, and he upset his glass all over
Miss Martha Lorimer's invisible-green wa-
tered silk, and spoilt the better part of two
breadths. She sent right over for me early72

DEEPIIAVEN

the next morning to "see if I knew of anything
to take out the spots, but I didn't, though I
can take grease out o' most any material.
We tried clear alcohol, and saleratus-water,
and hartshorn, and 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 Mother,
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 wouldn't take no for an answer; he
was freehanded, the cap'n was. I helped 'em
make it 'long of Mary Ann Simms the dress-
maker,— she's dead and gone too,—the
time it was made. It was brown, and aMY J.AUY HK AN I » >X

75

beautiful-looking piece, but it wore shiny,
unci she made a double-gown of il before she
died."

Mrs. Patton brought Kate and me some
delicious old-fashioned cake with much spice
in it, and told us it was made by old Mrs.
Chantrey Brandon's receipt which came from
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 Katha-
rine had named her in her will long before
she was sick. "It has put me beyond fear of
want/' said Mrs. Patton. "I won't deny that
1 used to think it would go hard with me when
I got so old I couldn'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 dependent in her last days; but your
aunt, Miss Kate, she thought of it too, and
1 *m sure I m thankful to be so comfortable,
and to stay in my house, which I couldn't
have done, like 's not. Miss Rebecca Lori-
mer 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, 4 My friends are kind, — the Lord
bless'em! — but I feel better to be able to
do for myself than to be beholden.' "

After this long call we went down to the74

l>Ki\NlAVK\

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 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 sometimes to read our letters there,
I remember.

I must tell you a little about the Deep-
haven 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 gravestones and trying to
puzzle out the inscriptions, which were often
so old ami worn that we could only trace a
letter here and there. It was a neglected
corner of the world, and there were strag-
gling sumachs and acacias scattered about
the inclosure, 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 Bran-
don's grave looked so new and fresh that it
seemed inappropriate. u It should have beenMY LADY BRANDON	75

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 the memory of men who had been lost at
sea, almost always giving the name of the
departed ship, which was so kept in remem-
brance ; 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 perpetuat-
ing the fame of Honourable gentlemen who
had been members of His Majesty's Council,
or surveyors of His Majesty's Woods, or
King's Officers of Customs 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 virtues and
dearness, which is so touching, and so unmis-
takable even under the stiff, quaint expres-
sions and formal words. 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 may76

DEEPHAVEN

find in a quiet old-fashioned country town;
though to heartily enjoy the every-day life
one must care to study life and character,
and must find pleasure in thought and ob-
servation of simple things, and have an in-
stinctive, delicious interest in what to other
eyes is unflavored dullness.

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, " al-
ways 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 according to her means al-
ways. Dreadful tough time of it with her
husband, shif'less and drunk all his time.
Noticed that den*t in the side of her forehead,
I s'pose ? 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
Damer one night, and she gave me the par-
ticulars. I knew he did it, for she had a fit

Mrs. DockutnMY LADY BRANDON

79

o' sickness afterward. Had sliced cucumbers
for breakfast that morning; he was very par-
tial to them, and he wanted some vinegar.
Happened to be two bottles in the cellar-way
just alike, and one of'em was vinegar 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 slantwise, sort of. I don' know, I 'm
sure " (meditatively). " She said he was good-
natured; it was early in the mornin', and he
hadn't had time to get upset; but he had a
high temper naturally, and so much drink
hadn't made it much better. She had good
prospects when she married him. Six-foot-
two and red cheeks and straight as a Noroway
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,
'twas a shame, nice woman ; good consistent
church-member; always been respected; use-
ful among the sick."Deephaven Society

IT was curious to notice, in this quaint
little fishing-village by the sea, how
clearly the gradations of society were de-
fined. The place prided itself most upon
having been long ago the residence of one
\ Governor Chantrey, who was a rich ship-
Jt owner and East India merchant, and whose
'TV 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 were still stand-
ing 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 ofDEEPHAVEN SOCIETY	81

the grand way in which life was carried on
by their ancestors, the Deephaven families
of old times. I think Kate and I were as-
sured at least a hundred times that Governor
Chantrey kept a valet, and his wife, Lady
Chantrey, kept a lady's maid and a house-
keeper, and. that the governor had an uncle
in England who was a lord; and I believe
this must have been why our friends felt so
deep an interest in the affairs of the English
nobility; they no doubt felt themselves enti-
tled 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 were
twenty college men, young and old, in the
Sunday congregation ; there is not a really
distinguished person in the country who will
not prove to have been directly or indirectly
connected with Deephaven. We were shown
the cellar of the Chantrey house, and the ter-
races, 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 their edges to fish for sea-perch
when the tide comes in. There is an impos-82

DEEPHAVEN

ing monument in the burying-ground to the
great man.and his amiable consort I am
sure that if there were any surviving rela-
tives of the governor, they would receive in
Deephaven far more deference than is con-
sistent with the principles of a republican gov-
ernment ; but the family became extinct long
since, and I have heard, though it is not a
subject that one may speak of lightly, that
the sons were unworthy their noble descent
and came to inglorious ends.

There were still remaining a few repre-
sentatives 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 em-
bargo 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 remember the Widow Moses said toDEEPHAVEN SOCIETY

83

me, in speaking of a certain misguided
nephew of hers, " I never could see what
could 'a' sot him out to leave so many privi-
leges 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 each owned
a trawl. There were some schooners and
a small brig slowly going to pieces by the
wharves, and indeed 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-^ater mark.

Even the fishermen felt a satisfaction, and
seemed to realize their privilege, in being
residents of Deephaven; but among the no-
bility 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 a84

DEEPHAVEN

few disadvantages, such as living nearly a
dozen miles from the railway; but, as Miss
Honora Carew said* the tone of Deephaven
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.

" But," said Kate one day, " would n't you
like to have some pleasant . new people
brought into town ? "

"Certainly, my clear/5 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 contented to stay in their own house,
with their books and letters and knitting,
and they carefully read Lit tell, the Specta-
tor, and "the new magazine," as they called
the Atlantic.

The Carews were very intimate with the
minister and his sister, and there were one
or two others who belonged to this set.DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY	85

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 even-
ing, and commonly went out fishing once a
week. He had 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 once to ex-
amine. 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. When 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 having86

DEEPHAVEN

seen better days and as being highly con-
nected. But she was apt to be ungram-
matical when excited, and there was a whis-
pered tradition that she used to keep a toll-
bridge in a town in Connecticut; though the
mystery of her previous state of existence
will probably never be
solved. She wore
mourning for the cap-
tain which would have
befitted his widow, and
patronized the towns-
people conspicuously,
while she herself was
treated with much con-
descension by the Ca-
rews and Lorimers.
She occupied, on the
whole, much the same
'position that Mrs.
Betty Barker did in
Cranford. And, indeed,

widow Tuiiy	Kate and 1 were often

reminded of that esti-
mable 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.DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY	87

It seemed as if all the clocks in Deep-
haven, 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 sev-
eral families who seemed to have no more
visible means of support than a balloon.
There were 110 young people whom we knew,
though a number used to come to church on
Sunday from the inland farms, or " the coun-
try," as we learned to say. There were chil-
dren 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.

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 our-
selves to look at each other. It was more
than we had hoped for. There was also a
violin and sometimes a flute, and a choir of
men and women singers, though the con-88

DEEPHAVEN

gregation 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
delightfully 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 some-
what early, we watched the people come in,
with great interest. The Deephaven aristo-
cracy came with stately step up the aisle ;
this was all the chance there was for display-
ing their unquestioned dignity in public.

Many of the people drove to church in
wagons that were low and old and creaky,
with worn buffalo-robes over the seat, and
some hay tucked underneath for the sleepy,
undecided old horse. Some of the younger
farmers and their wives had high, shiny wag-
ons, with tall horsewhips, — which they some-
times brought into church, — and they drove
up to the steps with a consciousness of being
conspicuous and enviable. They had a bash-
ful look when they came in, and for a few
minutes after they took their seats they evi-
dently 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.DEEPHAVEN SOCIETY	89

The old folks interested us most. "Do
you notice how many more old women there
are than old men ?" whispered Kate to me.
And we wondered if the husbands and bro-
thers had been drowned, and if it must not
be sad to look at the blue, sunshiny sea be-
yond 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 them-
selves 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 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 treas-
ured 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 congregation which had been
dyed black, and gave an aspect of meekness
and general unworthiness to the aged wearer,9°

DEEPHAVEN

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 her-
self 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 precise-
ly folded pocket-handkerchief, and a frugal
lunch of caraway seeds or red and white pep-
permints. I should like you to see, with your
own eyes, Widow Ware and Miss Exper'ence
Hull, two old sisters whose personal appear-
ance 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 some-



'>AyA"W

The Sunday Dinnerdeephav?;n society

93

thing unmistakable about a sailor, — and they
had a curiously 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 Harald Har-
faager 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
seaweed 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 min-
ister, when they were not dozing, and they
sang with voices like the howl of the wind,
with an occasional deep note or two.

Have you never seen faces that seemed
old-fashioned ? Many of the people in Deep-
haven church looked as if they must be — if
not supernaturally old — exact copies of their
remote ancestors. I wonder if it is not pos-
sible that the features and expression may
be almost perfectly reproduced. These faces
were not modern American faces, but be-
longed rather to the days of the early settle-
ment of the country, the old colonial times.94

DEEPHAVEN

We often heard quaint words and expressions
which we never had known anywhere else
but in old books. There was a great deal of
sea-lingo in use ; indeed, we learned a great
deal ourselves, unconsciously,, and used it
afterwards to the great amusement of our
friends ; but there were also many peculiar
provincialisms, and among the people who
lived on the lonely farms inland we often
noticed words we had seen in Chaucer, and
studied out at school in our English liter-
ature class. Everything in Deephaven was
more or less influenced by the sea; the min-
ister spoke oftenest of Peter and his fisher-
men companions, and prayed most earnestly
every Sunday morning for those who go
down to the sea in shi^s. He made fre-
quent allusions and drew numberless illus-
trations 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 theDEEPHAVEN SOCIETY	95

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 acquainted
with the owner of this voice, and were sur-
prised 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 apologetic whine; but we
heard she had a temper as high as her voice,
and as much to be dreaded as the equinoctial
gale.

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 under-
stood it at once after you had lived for a
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 ruled9<5

DEEPIIAVEN

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 cool-
ness between Miss Brandon and Miss Lor-
imer, 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
ignorant of the feud, and I think Miss
Lorimer was satisfied that it was best not to
refer to it, and to let 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 ladies.

Miss Honora Carew and Mr. Dick Carew
and their elder sister, Mrs. Dent, had aDEEPHAVEN SOCIETY

97

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 grow-
ing old. She had lost none of her fondness
for society, though she was so contented
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 East Indies, and
there were quantities of curiosities 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 afterward came
home, and was still considered to possess
princely wealth by his neighbors; He had a
great fondness for reading and study, which -
had not been lost sight of during his business98

DEEPHAVEN

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 swre that he had van-
quished the other, or there were alternate
victories and defeats which made life vastly
interesting and important.

Miss.Carew and Mrs. Dent had a great
treasury of old brocades and laces and orna-
ments, which they showed us one day, and
told us stories of the wearers ; or if they
were their own, there were always some rem-
iniscences which they liked to talk over with
each other and with us. never shall forget
the first evening we took tea with them ; it
impressed us very much, and yet nothing
wonderful happened. Tea was handed round
by an old-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,tWc^dkaty.

Air. Dick a)id Air. LarimerDEEPHA.VEN SOCIETY	101

for Miss Honora asked us to come to tea
whenever we liked. "A stupid, common
country town/' some one dared to call Deep-
haven in a letter once, and how bitterly we
resented it! That was a house where one
might always find the best society and the
most charming 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 sol-
emnly 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 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
beautiful quaint old room, — and Kate and I102

DEEPHAVEN

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 im-
posing. There were two or three which had
not been kept in repair, 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 sentimental, we only
remember that it is a fine night to catch
hake.The Captains

I 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 sun-
ning themselves like turtles on one of the
wharves. Sometimes there was a consider-
able group of them; but the less constant
members of the club were older than the
rest, and the epidemics of rheumatism 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 many104	DEEPHAVEN

of them were cleaf; 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 wanderings of the children of Israel to
an old parson. There were sometimes vio-
lent 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 fel-
lows 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 meeting
was evidently not to be interfered with. Once
we were impertinent enough to hide our-
selves 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. Captain Isaac Horn,
the eldest and wisest of all, was discoursing
upon some cloth he had purchased once inTHE CAPTAINS

Bristol, which the shopkeeper delayed send-
ing 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 back. I was dread-
ful 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 turn-
ing the color of a biled lobster, ' I s'posed
ye were a-standing out to sea by this time.'
'No,' says I, 'and I've got my men out here
on the quay a-landing that cloth o' yourn ;
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 ?' says he, edging
round ; Til change it for ye, then.' Ter'bleio6

DEEPHAVEN

perlite he was. ' Like it ?' 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.

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 fac-
ing 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 spar-
row, and chippered faster and faster.THE CAPTAINS

" 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 barna-
cles. There ! I do wish I lived nigher the
shore, where I could see the folks I 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
Lant,' and, so to speak, be forgot when
there's anything stirring, and be called gran-
'ther by clumsy creatur's goin' on fifty and
sixty, who can't do no more work to-day than
I can; an' then the women-folks keeps a-tel-
lin' me to be keerful and not fall, and as how
I'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 consid-
er'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 Singa-io8

DEEPHAVEN

pore. I was the lonesomest man, when 1
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 Brandon ?
Why, yes; and I remember all her brothers
and sisters, and her father and mother. I
can see '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 Bran-
don's grand-daughter?" (to Kate); "why,
him and me have been out fishing together
many's the time, — he and Chantrey, his
next younger brother. Henry, he was a dis-
app'intment; he went to furrin parts and
never come back again, I s'pose you've
heard? 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 satisfac-The Old CaptainsTHE CAPTAINS

Hi

tion. We found he had his pet stories, and
it must have been gratifying to have an en-
tirely new and fresh audience. He was
adroit in leading the conversation around to
a point where the stories would come in
appropriately, and we helped him as much as
possible. In a small neighborhood, all the
people know each other's stories and experi-
ences by heart, and I have no doubt the old
captain had been disregarded many times on
the occasion of beginning a favorite anec-
dote. There was a story which he told us
that first day, which he assured us was
strictly true, and it is certainly a remark-
able 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 ges-
tures, 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 disoblige
his own boys any day to please him. This112

DEEPHAVEN

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
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 ; f 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. ' Oh, dear me/ says he, * they 've
hung him, — hung him right up to the yard-
arm ! Oh, they ought n't to have done it; cut
him down quick ! he did n't think; he means
well, Ben does ; he was only hasty. O my
God, I can't bear to see him swing round by
the neck! There's poor Ben hung up to
the yard-arm. Let me alone, I say!' An-THE CAPTAINS

drew 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 the neighbors next day, but no-
body 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
bedroom, speaking as loud and f'erce as ever
you heard. 'They hung him to the yard-
arm !'

" ' Don't mind him,' says Andrew ; 'he'sIi4

DEEPHAVEN

wandering-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-scolding to him-
self. 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. He begun to swear, and then says he,
* When did the old man have his dream ?'
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 mid-
shipman 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 theTHE CAPTAINS

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 us 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 could tell him," said Captain Lant in con-
clusion. "It's something I never could ac-
count for, but it's true as truth. I Ve known
more such cases ; some folks laughs at' me
for believing 'em, — cthe cap'n's yarns/ they
calls 'em, — but if you'll 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 mys-
ter 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 per-
mission to come again and hear the Widow
Oliver Pinkham story. We stopped, how-
ever, to see "the women-folks," and after-
ward became so intimate with them that weii 6

DEEPHAVEN

were invited 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, fortu-
nately, and we had a letter from him, not
long ago, acknowledging 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 him-
self, "Respectfully yours with esteem, Jacob
Lant (condemned as unseaworthy).". WI'iillMliiWiiiii ii

DEEPHAVEN seemed more like one of
the lazy little English seaside towns
than any other. It was not in the least
American. There was no excitement about
anything ; there were no manufactories ; no-
body 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;

u8

DEEPHAVEN

but Deephaven used to be a town of note,
rich and busy, as its forsaken warehouses
show.

We knew almost all the fisherpeople at
the shore, even old Dinnett, who lived an
apparently desolate life by himself in a
tumble-down hut and was reputed to have
been a bloodthirsty pirate in his youth. He
was consequently feared by all the chil-
dren, 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,DANNY

"9

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 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 go120

DEEPHAVEN

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 for
some minutes after the men were hidden
from sight. This gave one a curious feel-
ing, but afterward, when the sun had risen,
everything looked much the same as usual;
the fog had gone, and the dories and even
the larger boats were distant 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 light-
house 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 solemn company of lob-
ster-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.DANNY

121

Just as we were going away, we happened
to see a man at work in one of the sheds. He
was the fisherman whom we knew least of all;
an odd-looking, silent sort of man, more sun-
burnt and weatherbeaten than any of the
others. We had learned to know him by the
bright red flannel shirt he always wore, and
besides, he was lame ; 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 with him. He looked up at
us pleasantly; and when we nodded and
smiled, he said " Good day" in a gruff, hearty
voice, and went on with his work, cleaning
mackerel

''Do you mind our watching you?" asked
Kate.

- " No, mdam ! " said the fisherman emphat-
ically. So there we stood.

Those fish-houses were curious places, so
different from any other kind of workshop.
In this there was a seine, or part of one,
festooned among the cross-beams overhead,
and there were snarled fishing-lines, and bar-
rows to carry fish in, like wheelbarrows with-
out wheels; there were the queer round lob-
ster-nets, and "kits" of salt mackerel, tubs
of bait, and piles of clams ; and some queer
bones, and parts of remarkable fish, and lob-122

DEEPHAVEN

ster-claws of surprising size fastened on the
walls for ornament. There was a pile of rub-
bish down at the end ; I dare say it was all
useful, however, — there is such mystery
about the business.

Kate and I were never tired of hearing of
the fish that come at different times of the
year, and go away again, like the birds; or
of the actions of the dog-fish, which the 'long-
shoremen 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," 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 you
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.The Fish HousesDANNY

I25

" Those are porgies, are n't they ? " asked
Kate.

"Yes," said the man, "an* I'm going to
sliver them for the trawls."

We knew what the trawls were, and sup-
posed that the porgies were to be used for
bait; and we soon found out what "sliver-
ing " meant, by seeing him take them by the
head and cut a slice from first one side and
then the other in such a way that the pieces
looked not unlike smaller fish.

"It seems to me," said I, "that fisher-
men always have sharper knives than other
people."

"Yes, we do like a sharp knife in* our
trade; and then we are mostly strong-
handed."

He was throwing the porgies' heads and
backbones — all that was left of them after
slivering — in a heap ; and now several cats
walked in as if they felt at home, and began a
hearty lunch. "What a 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 some126

DEEPHAVEN

years, and are as * much belonging to Deep-
haven as the meetin'-house ; but the rest of
them an't to be- depended on. You'll miss
the young ones by the dozen, come spring.
I don't know myself but they move inland in
the fall of the year; they 're knowing enough,
if that's all! "

Kate and I stood in the wide doorway, arm
in arm, looking sometimes at the queer fisher-
man 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 har-
bor. The sea was bright blue, and the sun
was shining. Two gulls were swinging lazily
to and fro ; there was a flock of sandpipers
down by the water's edge, in a great hurry,
as usual.

Presently the fisherman spoke again, be-
ginning 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'l of salt the skipper said was
there. It was an awful blustering kind of
day, with a thin icy rain blowing from all
points at once; sea roaring as if it wished it
could come ashore and put a stop to every-
thing. Bad clays at sea, them are; rigging
all froze up. As I was saying, we wereDANNY

127

bunting for a half-bar'! 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 per-
haps you think it is a big story, but there
were eight more in there, hived in together
to keep warm. I card'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 likely 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 thought; " but then
it never seems like they had feelin's like128

DEEPHAVEN

creatur's that live ashore." And we all
laughed heartily and felt well acquainted.

"I s'pose you ladies 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?"

"Yes, it was at sea ; leastways, on a coaster.
I got her in a sing'lar kind of way: it
was one afternoon 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, V 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 overboard 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 awayDanny

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 know-
ingest thing you ever saw, and she used to
sleep alongside of me in my bunk, and like
as not she would go on deck with me when
it was my watch. I was coasting then most
o' the time for a year and eight months, and
I kept her long of me. 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 'em off and growl, and she
knew when I got a bite, — she'd watch the
line; but when we were nrackereling 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, but when the wind
blew she al'ays kept herself below. Some-
times when we were in port she would go
ashore a while, and fetch back a bird or a
mouse, but she would n't never eat it till132

DEEPHAVEN

she come and showed it to me. She never
wanted to stop long ashore, though I did n't
shut her up; I always give her her liberty.
I got a good deal of joking about her from
the fellows, but she was a sight of company.
I don' know as I ever had anything like me
as much as she did. Not to say as I ever
had much of any trouble with anybody,
ashore or afloat. 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?" asked Kate.

" Well, mother, she died, and I was bound
out to a man in the tanning trade, and I
hated him, and I hated the trade; and when
I was a little bigger I ran away, and I 've
followed the sea ever since. I was n't much
use to him, I guess; leastways, 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? 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 white things on their heads. I
don't suppose you ever aaw any. Have you ?
Well, now, that's queer! * When I was firstDANNY

133

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 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
coming 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 al-
ways kept it on account of her. She was so
pleased when I got so's to set up in a chair
and look out of the window. She was n'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,134

DEEPHAVEN

and it's as much as I 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 hos-
pital ; 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 somebody to do for me.
Guess you think I'm a good hand to talk;
somehow it conies easy to-day."

u What became of your cat ? " asked Kate,
after a pause, during which our friend sliced
away at the porgies.

"I never rightly knew; it was in Salem
harbor and a windy night. I was on deck
consider'ble, for the schooner pitched lively,
and once or twice she dragged her anchor.
I never saw the kitty after she eat her sup-
per. 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 aDANNY

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 M settle down ashore
and have a snug 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
I feel first-rate."

" Do you believe that codfish swallow
stones before a storm ? " asked Kate. I had
been thinking about the lonely fisherman in
a sentimental way, and so irrelevant a ques-
tion shocked me. " I saw he felt slightly
embarrassed at having talked about his af-
fairs so much," Kate told me afterward," 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 " —136

DEEPHAVEN

" Oh, those are haddock/' said I ; "they say
that the de.vil caught a haddock once, and it
slipped through his fingers and got scorched,
so all the haddock had the same mark after-
ward."

"Well, now, how did you know that old
story?" said Danny, laughing heartily; "ye
must n't believe all the old stories ye hear,
mind ye! "

" Oh, 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 yester-
day."

Our friend pushed the porgies back into a
corner, stuck his knife into a beam, and we
hurried down to the shore. Kate and I sat
on the pebbles, and he went out to the
moorings in a dirty dory to help unload the
fish.

We afterward saw a great deal of Danny,
as all the men called him. But though Kate
and I tried our best and used our utmost
skill and tact to make him tell us more about
himself, he never did. But perhaps there
was nothing more to be told.

The day we left Deephaven we went down
to the shore to say good-by to him and toDANNY

*37

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.Captain Sands

OLD 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
reputation in town for being peculiar and
somewhat visionary ; 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, smok-
ing 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 thoughtCAPTAIN SANDS

*39

a little of going out to the lighthouse. 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, yes, you're right; there's
a heavy bank of fog 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 ye ? "
"A-little," said Kate, "but we had nearly
given it up. We are getting to 1dc very
weather-wise, and we pride ourselves on
being quick at seeing fogs." At which the
cap'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.
"Come in and set down, won't ye?" 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
lo\y room. " I come down here once in a
while and let in the sun, and sometimes I
want to hunt up something or 'nother ; kind140

dep:phaven

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 ridicu-
lous for a man of his age to have treasured
up so much trumpery in that cobwebby place.
There were some whole oars and the sail of
his boat and two or three killicks and paint-
ers, not to forget a heap of wornout 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 remark-
able. 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, with his slow
smile, " it ain't what you'd rightly call * nice/
as I know of: it ain't never been cleared outCAPTAIN SANDS

141

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 ?' She 's al'ays
at me about letting the property, as if it
were a corner-lot in Broadway. That's all
women-folks know about business! " And
here the captain caught himself tripping,
and looked uneasy for a minute. " I suppose
I might have let it for a fish-house, but it's
most too far from the shore to be handy —
and — well — there are some things here that
I set a good deal by."

"Is n't that a sword-fish's sword in that
piece of wood ? " Kate asked, presently ; and
was answered that it was found broken off
as we saw it, in the 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 understood per-
fectly how dear such things may be.

v " Do you mind if we look round a little ?"
I asked, doubtfully, for I knew how I should
hate having strangers look over my own142

DEE1MIAVKN

treasury. But Captain Sancls 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.
The paint was almost gone, and the dust cov-
ered 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 be-
longed to the wreck of a Danish brig which
had been driven on the reef where the light-
house stands now, and his father had found
this on the long sands a day or two after-
ward. " 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?" We hadCaptain Sands.CAPTAIN SANDS

been taking a course of first lessons in knots
from Danny, and had followed by learning
some charmingly intricate ones from Captain
Lant, the stranded mariner who lived on a
farm two miles or so inland. Kate came
over to look at the Turk's-heads, which were
at either end of the rope handle 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. Lori-
mer, 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 could n'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 supposed146

DEEPHAVEN

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 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 to 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 off some
tangled cod-lines and opened the chest. There
was only a round wooden box in the till, and
in some idle hour at sea the young sailor had
carved his initials and an anchor and the date
on the cover. We found some sail-needles
and a palm in this "ditty-box," 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 fanci-
ful 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 com-
plexion and dark hair.CAPTAIN SANDS

147

" He was one of the pleasantest fellows
that ever I shipped with," said the captain,
with a gruff tenderness in his voice. "Al-
ways willin' to do his work himself, and like's
not when the other fellows up the rigging
were cold, or ugly about something 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. anything 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 how ; hejwas 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,
-^1 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,148

DEEPHAVEN

and we have our day, but it is n't long afore
we 're forgotten."

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 good care of this," said he.
" He was an I-talian, and no more of an
American citizen than a Chinese ; I wonder
he hadn't called himself John Jones, that's
the name most of the foreigners used to take
wh^n they got their papers. I remember
once I was sick with a fever in Chelsea Hos-
pital, and one morning they came bringing
in the mate of a Portugee brig on a stretcher,
and the surgeon asked what his name was.
'John Jones,' says he. 'Oh, say something
else,' says the surgeon ; * we've got five John
Joneses here 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 dol-
lars unclaimed in New York banks, where
men have left it charged to their false names;
then they get lost at sea or something, and
never go to get it, and nobody knows whose
it is. They're curious folks, take 'em alto-
gether, sailors is; specially these foreignCAPTAIN SANDS

149

fellows that wander about from ship to ship.
They 're getting to be a dreadful low set, toof
of late years. It 's the last thing I'd want a,
boy of mine to do, — ship before the mast
with one of these.mixed crews. It's a dog's
life, anyway, and the risks and the chances
against you are awful. It's a good while
before you can lay up anything, unless you
are part owner. I saw all the p'ints a good
deal plainer after I quit followin' the sea my-
self, 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 hadn't expected nothing, or next to
nothing, and she was pleased, I tell ye."

"I think it was very kind in you to think
o£ 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 startedDEEPHAVEN

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 sayin' that a cripple in the right road
will beat a racer in the wrong."

The Circus at Denby

KATE and I looked forward to a certain -
Saturday vvith 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, until two dashing young
men had deigned to come themselves to put
up the big posters on the end of 'Bijah Mau-
ley'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 rasp-!52

DEEPHAVEN

berrying with us, that we grew enthusiastic,
and told each other what fun it would be to
go, for everybody would be there, and it
would be the greatest loss to us if we were
absent. I thought I had lost my childish
fondness for circuses, but it came back re-
doubled ; and Kate may contradict me if she
chooses, but I am sure she never looked for-
ward to an Easter Oratorio with half the plea-
sure she did to this ".caravan," as most of the
people called it.

We felt that it was a great pity that any of
the boys and girls should be left lamenting
at home; and finding that there were some
of our acquaintances and Tommy's who saw
no chance of going, we engaged Jo Sands
and Leander Dockum to carry them to Denby
in two fish-wagons, with boards laid across
for the extra seats. We saw them join the
straggling train of carriages which had begun
to go through the village from all along shore,
soon after daylight, and they started on their
journey shouting and carousing, with their
pockets crammed with early apples and other
provisions. We thought it would have been
fun enough to see the people go by, for we
had had no idea until then how many inhabi-
tants that country held.

We had asked Mrs. Kew to go with us;THE CIRCUS AT DENBY	153

but she was half an hour later than she had
promised, for, since there was no wind, she
could not come ashore in the sail-boat, and
Mr. Kew 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 sur-
prising 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 impressive and solemn as she hurried
up from the water's edge, giving Mr, Kew
some parting charges over her shoulder as
he pushed off the boat to go back ; but after
we had convinced her that the delay had not
troubled us, she seemed more cheerful. It
was evident that she felt the importance of
the occasion, and that she was pleased at our
having chosen her for company. She threw
back her veil entirely, sat very straight, and154

DEEPIIAVEN

took immense pains to bow to every acquaint-
ance whom she met. She wore her best
Sunday clothes, and her manner was formal
for the first few minutes ; it was evident that
she felt we were meeting under unusual cir-
cumstances, and that, although we had often
met before on the friendliest terms, our hav-
ing asked her to make this excursion in pub-
lic required a different sort of behavior at her
hands, and a due amount of ceremony and
propriety. But this state of things did not
last long, as she soon made a remark at which
Kate and I laughed so heartily, in lighthouse-
acquaintance fashion, that she unbent, and
gave her whole mind to enjoying herself.

When we came by the 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 for-
lorn horse standing near, with his harness
tied up with fuzzy ends of rope, and the
wagon was cobbled together with pieces of
board; the whole craft looked as if it might
be wrecked with the least jar. In the wagon
were four or five stupid-looking boys and
girls, one of whom was crying softly. Their
father was ill, some one told us. " He was
took faint, but he is coming to all right; they
have give him something to take : their nameI PR I . AUG I

t*' i'.iicattfr nwrvr

Posters on 1Bijah Mauley's BarnTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	157

is Craper, and they live way over beyond the
Ridge, on Stone Hill, They were goin' over
to Denby to the circus, and the man ,was
calculating 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
in. 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 disappointment touched and
chilled our pleasure.

Somebody had turned the horse so that he
vwas 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 forDEEPHAVEN

the children; perhaps it had promised to be
the happiest day of their lives; and now they
must go back to their uninteresting home
without having seen the great show.

" I am so sorry you are disappointed/' said
Kate, as we were wondering how the man
who had followed us could ever climb into
the wagon.

" Heh ?" said he, blankly, as if he did not
know what her words meant. "What fool
has been a-turning o' this horse ?" he asked
a man who was looking on.

<£ Why, which way be ye goin' ?"

"To the circus," said Mr. Craper, with de-
cision ; " where d' ye s'pose ? 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 everybody
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 un-
interesting town which had grown up about
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.THE CIRCUS AT DENBY	159

There was a great deal of business going on -
in the shops, and there were two or three
hand-organs at large, near one of which we
stopped awhile to listen, just after we had
met Leander and given the horse into his
charge. Mrs. 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, and you may be sure
we went faithfully round to see everything
that the cages held.

I cannot .truthfully say that it was a good
show ; it was somewhat dreary, now that I
think of it quietly and without excitement.
The creatures looked tired, and as if they had
been on the road for a great many years. The
animals were all old, and there was a shabby
great elephant whose look of general dis-
couragement went to my heart, for it seemed
as if he were miserably conscious of a mis-
spent life. He stood dejected and motionless
at one side of the tent, and it was hard to
believe that there was a spark of vitality left
in him. A great number of the people had
* never seen an elephant before, and we heard
a thin little old man, who stood near us, say
delightedly, "There's the old creatur', andi6o

DEEPHAVEN

no mistake, Ann 'Liza. I wanted to see him
most of anything. My sakes' alive, ain't he
big!"

And Ann 'Liza, who was stout and sleepy-
looking, droned out, "Ye-es, there's con-
sider'ble of him ; but he looks as if he hain't
got no sprawl.""

Kate and I turned away and laughed,
while Mrs. Kew said confidentially, as the
couple moved away, " She need n't be a-re-
flectin' on the poor beast. That's Mis' Seth
Tanner, and there is n't a woman in Deep-
haven 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
Deephaven, 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. Everybody lingered longest before

" My sakes alive, ain't he big ! "THE CIRCUS AT DENBY	163

the monkeys, who seemed to be the only
lively creatures in the whole collection ; and
"finally we made our way into the other tent,
and perched ourselves on a high seat, from
whence we had a capital view of the audience
and the ring, and could see the people come
in. Mrs. Kew was on the lookout for ac-
quaintances, and her spirits as well as our
own seemed to rise higher and higher. She
was on the alert, moving her head this way
and that to catch sight of people, giving us
a running commentary in the 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 round us while we
were waiting 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 pro-
nouns, 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 a164

DEEPHAVEN

new moon then, and he expected to get sev-
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 do 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 ; 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 says he is goin' to
weigh risin' five hundred and fifty. I shall
stop, as I go home, to John's wife's brother'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 tomorrow 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 han'-
some hog. Chester white, you said ? Con-
sider them best, don't ye?" But this ques-
tion never was answered, for the greater part
of the circus company in gorgeous trappings
came parading in. .

The circus was like all other circuses,
except that it was shabbier than most, andTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	165

the performers seemed to have less heart in
it than usual. They did their best, and went
through with their parts conscientiously, but
they looked as if they never had had a good
time in their lives. The audience was hila-
rious, 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 satis-
faction was still greater, and so he sang it all
over again. Perhaps he had been associat-
ing with people who were used to circuses.
The afternoon was hot, and the boys with
Japanese fans and trays of lemonade did a
remarkable business for so late in the season ;
the brass band on the other side of the tent
shrieked its very best, and all the young men
of the region had brought their girls; and
some of these countless pairs of country
lovers we watched a great deal, as they " kept
company " with more or less depth of 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 lit-
tle children, and some families had evidently
locked their house door behind them, since
they had brought both the dog and the
baby.i66

DEEPHAVEN

" Does n't it seem as if you were a child
again ? " Kate asked me. " I am sure this is
just the same as the first circus I ever saw.
It grows more and more familiar, and it puz-
zles me to think they should not have altered
in the least while I have changed so much, and
have even had time to grow up. You don't
know how it is making me remember other
things of which I have not thought for years.
I was seven years old when I went that first
time. Uncle Jack invited me. I had a new
parasol, and he laughed because I would
hold it over my shoulder when the sun was
in my face. He took me into the side-shows,
and bought me everything I asked for on
the way home, and we did not get home
until twilight. The rest of the family had
dined at five 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 remember thatTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	167

Bridget sat in the next room, making her
new dress so she could wear it to church,
next day. I thought it was a beautiful dress,
and besought mamma to have one like it.
It was bright geeen 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 and he came home from China.
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 button-
hole, and—oh ! 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 hap-
pened to him then."	- s
"I remember," said Mrs. Kew presently,i68

DEEPHAVEN

"that just before I was married 'he' took
me over to Wareham Corners to a caravan.
My sister Hannah and the young man who
was keeping company with her went too.
I haven't been to one since till 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
lighthouse and be contented there, what's
more, and sometimes not get ashore for a
fortnight; settled, gray-headed old folks!
We were gay enough in those days. I know
old Miss Sabrina Smith warned me that I '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 did n'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 dis-
agreeable enough, and we seemed to have
chosen the worst time, for the crowd pushedTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	169

fiercely, though I suppose nobody was in the .
least hurry, and we were all severely jammed,
while from somewhere underneath came the
wails of a deserted dog. We had not meant
to see the side-shows, and went carelessly
past two or three tents; but when we came
in sight of the picture of the Kentucky
giantess, we noticed that Mrs. Kew looked
at it wistfully, and we immediately asked if
she cared anything about going to see the
wonder, whereupon 3he confessed that she
never heard of such a thing as a woman's
weighing six hundred and fifty pounds, so we
all three went in. There were only two or
three persons inside the tent, 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 the picture," said Mrs,
Kew in a regretful whisper; " but I guess
she's big enough ; does n't she look discour-
aged, poor creatur' ?" 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,DEEPHAVEN

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 talking to
the giantess with great interest, and we went
nearer.

" I thought your face looked natural the
minute I set foot inside the door," said Mrs.
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, was n't I ? But father,
he run through with every cent he had be-
fore 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
strangers 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 anTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	171

appetite/'— this was said plaintively, — " and
he *s raised my pay since I've been with him
because we did so well. I took up with Jiis
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 old-
est boy is able to do for himself, but he's
married this last year, and his wife don't
want me. I don't know's I blame her
either. It would be something like if I had
a daughter, now; but there, I'm getting to
like traveling first-rate; it gives anybody a
good deal to think of."

" I was asking the folks about you when I
was up home the early part of the summer,"
said Mrs. 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 pic-
ture 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. Between 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 poor172

DEEPHAVEN

giantess lost her professional look and tone
as she said, "I believe I 'd rather die than
grow any bigger. I do lose heart some-
times, and wish I was a smart woman and
could keep house. I 'd be smarter than ever
I was when I had the chance; I tell you
that! Is Thomas along with you ? "

"No. I came with these young ladies,
Miss Lancaster and Miss Denis, who are
stopping over to Deephaven for the sum-
mer/' 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
courtesy in her manner, and an apparent un-
consciousness 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. u It has
done me sights of good to see you," said our
new acquaintance. (t 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 whenTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	173

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 shout-
ing as we came away. "Walk in and see
the wonder of the world, ladies and gentle-
men,—-the largest woman ever seen in
America,—the great Kentucky giantess!"

"Would n'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 used to go to meeting where I
did, but she lived five or six miles from our
house. She's had a hard time of it, accord-
ing to her account," said Mrs. Kew. "She
used to be a dreadful flighty, high-tempered
girl, but she's lost that now, I can see
by her eye. I was running it 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'174

DEEPHAVEN

leave and come out to stop with me, but I
thought just in time that she 'd sink the dory
in a minute if she shifted quick. 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 home, we began to be merry
again.

We 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 bad whiskey than was good for
him. He had a bright flush on his cheeks,
and was flourishing his whip, and hoarsely
singing some meaningless tune. " Poor crea-
ture !" said I, "I should think this day's pleas-
uring would kill him."

"Now, shouldn't you think so?" said
Mrs. Kew sympathizingly. " But the truth
is, you could n't kill one of them Crapers if
you pounded him in a mortar."

We had a pleasant drive home, and 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 waiting for the moon
to rise. Mrs." Kew told us that she should
have enough to think of for a year, she hadTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	175

enjoyed the day so much; and we stood on
the pebbles, watching the boat out of the
harbor, and wishing ourselves on board, it
was such a beautiful evening.

We went to another show that summer,
the memory of which will never fade. It is
somewhat impertinent to call it a show, and
"public entertainment" is equally inappro-
priate, though we certainly were entertained.
It had been raining for two or three days;
the Deephaveners 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 dis-
couraged; 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 elms 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
»us as if we had been mermaids out of the
sea, and begged us to give ourselves some-
thing warm to drink, and to change our boots176

DEEPHAVEN

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

The Lecture Notice

read a written notice securely fastened to
the grocery door by four large carpet-tacks
with wide leathers round their necks.

"Dear," said she exultantly, "there's going
to be a lecture to-night in the church, — aTHE CIRCUS AT DENBY	177

free lecture on the 'Elements of True Man-
hood/ Would n't you like to go ?" And we
went.

We were fifteen minutes later than the
time appointed, and were sorry to find that
the audience was almost imperceptible.
The dampness had affected the antiquated
lamps so that those on the walls and on the
front of the gallery were the dimmest lights
I ever saw, and sent their feeble rays through
a small space the edges of which were clearly
defined. There were two rather more ener-
getic 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 yel-
low 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 interesting ; but I cannot tell a
lie, and it was so long ! He went on and on,178

E>EEPHAVEN

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 desper-
ation at feeling her quiver with laughter, I
moved to the other end of the pew, knock-
ing over a big hymn-book on the way, which
attracted so much attention that I have
seldom felt more embarrassed in my life.
Kate's great dog rose several times to shake
himself and yawn loudly, and then lie down
again despairingly.

You would have thought the man was ad-
dressing an enthusiastic Young Men's Chris-
tian Association. He exhorted with fervor
upon our duties as citizens and as voters, and
told us a great deal about George Washing-
ton and Benjamin Franklin, whom he urged
us to choose as our examples. He waited for
applause after each of his outbursts of elo-
quence, 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	179

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 congrega-
tion 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 wh'en
we were wondering whether we might with
propriety come away; he rose again, and said
it was a free lecture, and he thanked us for
our kind patronage on that inclement night ;
but in other places which he had visited
there had been a contribution taken up for
the cause. It would, perhaps, do no harm,
— would the sexton -—

But the sexton could not have heard the
sound of a cannon at that distance, and
slumbered on. Neither Kate nor I had any
money, except a twenty-dollar bill in my
purse, and some coppers in the pocket of her
v 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 of thei8o

DEEPHAVEN

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 Deep-
haven, we sent Tom Dockum early in the
morning with an anonymous note to the lec-
turer, whom he found without much trouble;
but afterward we were disturbed at hearing
that he was going to repeat his lecture that
evening, — the wind having gone round to
the northwest, —and I have no doubt there
were a good many women able to be out, and
that he harvested enough ten-cent pieces to
pay his expenses without our help ; though
he had particularly told us it was for "the
cause," the evening before, and that ought
to have been a consolation.

/*

Cun tier-Fish ing

NE of the chief pleasures in Deephavfin

was our housekeeping. Going to mar-
ket was apt to use up a whole morning, es-
pecially if we went to the fish-houses. We
depended somewhat upon supplies from
Boston, but sometimes we used to chase a
butcher who took a drive in his old canvas-
topped cart when he felt like it ; and as for
fish, there were always enough to be caught,
even if we could not buy any. Our acquaint-
ances would often ask if we had anything
for dinner that day, and would kindly sug-
gest that somebody had been boiling lobsters,
or that a boat had just come in with some
• nice mackerel, or that somebody oyer on the
Ridge was calculating to kill a lamb, and we
had better speak for a quarter in good sea-

'182

DEEPHAVEN

son. 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 mushrooms, 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, tak-
ing 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 fish-
ing for two days, and that when he came back
he had planned to kill a veal, we left word for
a sufficient piece of the doomed animal to be
set apart for our family, and strolled down
to the shore to see if we could find some
mackerel ; but there was not a fisherman in
sight, and after going to all the fish-houses
we concluded that we had better provide for
ourselves. We had not brought our own
lines, but we knew where Danny kept his ;
and after finding a basket of suitable size,
and taking some clams from Danny's bait-
tub, we went over to the hull of an old
schooner which was going to pieces along-
side one of the ruined wharves. We looked
down the hatchway into the hold, and could
see the flounders and sculpin swimming
about lazily, and once in a while a little pol-CUNNER-FISHING	183

lock scooted down among them impertinently
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 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 is higher up
than flounders ever swim. Perhaps he came
in when he was young, and was too lazy to
go out until he was so large he couldn't.
Flounders always look so lazy, and as if they
thought a great deal of themselves."

u I hope they will think enough of them-
selves to keep away from my hook this morn-
ing," said Kate philosophically, "and the
sculpin too. I am going to fish for cunners
alone, and keep my line short." And she
perched herself on the quarter, baited her
hook carefully, and threw it over, with a
clam-shell to call attention. I went to the
rail at the side, and we were presently much
encouraged by pulling up two small cunners,
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 twitch-184

DEEPHAVEN

ing the line and using all the tricks we could
think of, the cunners would either eat our
bait or keep away altogether. Kate at last
said we must starve unless we could catch the
big flounder, and asked me to drop my hook
down the hatchway; but it seemed almost
too bad to destroy his innocent happiness.
Just then we heard the noise of oars, and to
our delight saw Cap'n Sands in his dory just
beyond the next wharf. " Any luck ? " said
he. *' S'pose ye don't care anything about
going out this morning ? "

"We are not amusing ourselves; we are
trying to catch some fish for dinner/' said
Kate. " Could you wait out by the red buoy
while we get a few more, and then should
you be back by noon, or are you going for a
longer voyage, Captain Sands ?"

" I was going out to Black Rock for cun-
ners 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 haveCUNNER-FISHING

it cooler 'long towards noon. It looked last
night as if we were going to have foul
weather, but the scud seemed to blow^off,
and it was as pretty a morning as ever I see.
'A growing moon chaws up the clouds/ my
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 are n'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 we186

DEEPHAVEN

was going a long voyage from there; but no,
he would n't have her salted nohow, because
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 his own brother, and they used to
fight like a cat and dog; they owned most of
the ship between 'em. I was slushing the
mizzen-mast, and heard 'em a-disputin' about
the salt. The cap'n was a first-rate seaman
and died rich, but he was dreadful 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 word
was passed to take in sail iand make every-
thing fast. The men swore, and everybody
said the cap'n had had some kind of a warn-
ing. 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 sq.il we had aboard, though the
cap'n was'most afraid we'd come short whenCUNNER-FISHING

'87

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.

"There used to be some strange-looking

The Hannah

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
sp square in the bows, they used to call her
the sugar-box. She was master old, the
Hannah was, and there was n't a port fromi88

DEEPHAVEN

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 hundred 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 handkerchief. 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 ! Deep-
haven used to be a different place to what it
is now; there was hardly a day in the year
that you didn't hear the shipwrights' ham-
mers, and there was always something 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-mapleCUNNER-FISHING

189

for keels when there was snow on the ground
in winter-time, and the big sticks of timber-
pine for masts would come crawling along the
road with their three and four yoke of oxen
all frosted up, the sleds creaking and the
snow growling and the men flapping their
arms to keep warm, and hallooing as if there
wa'n'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 nowa-
days."

"I suppose the sailors are very jolly to-
gether 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 tales one day or
'nother that'll please you. - Land! you've
no idea what tricks some of those wild fel-
lows 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 a190

DEEPHAVEN

basket, and how do you suppose they'll 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 minute 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 champagne, how it's all
wired and waxed. Now, they take a clean
tub, them fellows do, and just shake the bas-
ket 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 smart way of breaking
into a cask. 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 un-
derneath 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 someCUNNER-FISHING	191

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'll hender some masters from cheat-
ing the owners a little. Get them off in a
foreign port, and there's nobody to watch,
and the 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 meant to say you come
away without none, cheap as cloth was there ?'
'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'em
to the ship, bless ye ; the owners expect it.'
. " So the next v'y'ge the poor cap'n, he had
a nice double rig for himself made to the
best tailor's in Bristol, and charged it, say192	DEEPHAVEN

ten pounds, in the ship's account; and when
he came home, the ship's husband, he was
looking over the papers, and ' What's this ?'
says he, 6 how come the ship to run up a
tailors bill ?' '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, laugh-
ing; cguess 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,
4 were you fool enough to set it down in the
account ? Why, I put mine in for so many
bolts of Russia duck/"

Captain Sands seemed to enjoy this remi-
niscence, 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 Havana as master of the Deer-
hound, she had never been in the port be-
fore, and had to be measured and recorded,
and then pay her tonnage duties every time
she went into port there afterward, according
to what she was registered on the custom-
house books. The inspector, he come aboard,CUNNER-FISHING	193

and he went below and looked all-round, and
he measured her between decks; but he
never offered to set down any figgers, and

The Lighthouse

when we came back into the cabin, says he,
'Yes — yes — good ship! you put one doub-
loon front of this eye, so !' says he, 'an' I not
see with him ; and you put one more doub-
loon front of other eye, and how you think I
see at all what figger you write ?' So I took
his book and I set down her measurements,
and made her out twenty ton short, and he
took his doubloons and shoved'm into his
pocket. There, it is n't what you call straight
dealing, but everybody done it that dared, and
you'd eat up all the profits of a v'y'ge, and

194

DEEPHAVEN

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 dread-
ful 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 meeting, 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 Deephaven 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.' CUNNER-FISHING

J95

"One day Cap'n Carew was over in River-
port 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 afternoon ? I've had warning
that there's a brig loading for the West
Indies over beyond Deephaven somewheres,
and I 'm going over to seize her/ And he
laughed to himself as if he expected fun,
and something in his pocket beside. Well,
the first minute that 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 rigging 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 came off
in a boat and boarded her as important as
could be.

"£ Won't ye step into the cabin, gentle-
men, and take a glass o* wine V 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; and196

DEEPHAVEN

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
lower their boat about two miles off Deep-
haven, 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 '11 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."CUNNER-FISHING

197

Kate and I cracked our clams on the gun-
wale 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 exciting than it had
been at the wharf.

" 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 fish-
ing. 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 having such a
lively crew aboard. I* s'pose ye would n't
care about going out a little further by and
by, to see if we can't get two or three had-
dock?" And we answered that we should
like nothing better.

It was growing cloudy, and was much
cooler, — the perfection of a day for fish-
ing,— and we sat there diligently pulling
in cunners, and talking a little once in a
while. The tide was nearly out, and Black
Rock looked almost large enough to be
called an island. The sea was smooth, and
t;he low waves broke lazily among the sea-
weed-covered ledges, while our boat swayed
about on the water, lifting and falling gently198

DEEPHAVEN

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 min-
utes. 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 killed our fish at once by
a rap on the head, for it certainly saved the
poor creatures much discomfort, and our-
selves as well, and it made it easier to take
them off the hook than if they were flopping
about and making us aware of our cruelty.

Suddenly the captain wound up his line
and said he thought we'd better be going in,
and Kate and I looked at him with surprise.
" It 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 had-
dock. 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."Landing the Dory' CUNNER-FISHING

201

"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 wet-
ting ; but I'd just as lief not get wet myself.
I had a twinge of rheumatism yesterday.
I guess 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 cunners,"
said the captain, who was beginning to be a
little out of breath, "and then you can run
right up and get under cover, and I '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 a202

DEEPHAVEN

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 one of Danny's quietest days,
and he silently beheaded hake, only winking
at us once very gravely at something our
other companion said.

" There!" said Captain Sands, " folks may
say what they have a mind to; I 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. Our house sets high, and
she watches the sky, and is al'ays a-worry-
ing when I go out fishing, for fear some-
thing '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 mysteriestan3r^:ould tell some
stones which were considered incredible by
^even a Deephaven audience, to whom the
marvelous was of every-day occurrence.

"Then it has happened before?" askedCUNNER-FISHING

203

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 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 re-
marks. I hope he did
not see Danny's wink.

Skipper Scudder, who
was Danny's friend and Skipper Scudcler
partner, came up just
thfen and asked us if we knew what the sign
was when the sun came out through the rain.204

DEEPHAVEN

I said that I had always heard it would rain
again next day. " Oh no/' said Skipper
Scudder, "_the Devil is beating his wife."

After dinner, Kate and 1 went tor a walk
through some pine woods, which were beau-
tiful 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-land-
ing, meaning to go home through the lane ;
but to our delight we saw Captain Sands
sitting alone on an old overturned whale-
boat, whittling busily at a piece of dried kelp.
"Good evenm'," said our friend cheerfully.
And we explained that we had taken a long
walk and thought we would rest awhile be-
fore we went home to supper. Kate perched
herself on the boat, and I sat down on a ship's
knee which lay on the pebbles.

"Didn't get any hurt from being out in
the shower, I hope ? "

"No, indeed," laughed Kate, "and we had
such a good time. I hope you won't mind
taking us out again some time,"' CUNNER-FISHING

205

"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 g<Dod
deal, and it seemed natural to have you
aboard. I missed Lo'isa after she got mar-
ried, 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 prevail on
her to set in the house stiddy and sew, and
she used to have great misgivings that Lo'isa
never was going to be capable. How about
those fish you caught this morning? good,
were they ? Mis' Sands had dinner on the
stocks when I got home, and she said she
wouldn't fry any'til supper-time; but I
calc'lated 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."

" O Captain Sands ! " said I, there being a
convenient pause, "you were speaking of
your wife just now; did you ask her if she
saw the shower ?"

" First thing she spoke of when I got into
the house. ' There,' says she, 'I was afraid
you wouldn't see the rain coming in time,2O6

DEEPHAVEN

and I had my heart in my mouth when it be-
gan 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 be-
gan to cut kelp, and I threw pebbles in the
hope of hitting a spider which sat compla-
cently on a stone not far away ; and when he
suddenly vanished, there was nothing for me
to do but to whittle kelp also.

"Do you suppose/' said Kate, "that Mrs.
Sands really made you know about that
shower ?"

The captain put on his most serious look,
coughed slowly, and moved himself a few
inches nearer us, along the boat. I think he
fully understood the importance and solem-
nity of the occasion. " 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 points that's
mysterious. 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 sud-
sden we'll speak up about the same thing.
Now the way I view it, she either puts it intoCUNNER-FISHING

207

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'da good deal rather she had n't/' said
the captain ruefully. " I didn't want to rake
it all over ag'in, I'm sure." And then he
recollected himself, and was silent, which his
audience must confess to have regretted for
a moment.

" I used to think a good deal about such
things when I was younger, and I'm free to
say I took more stock in dreams and such like
than I do now. I rec'lect old Parson Lori-
mer — this Parson Lorimer's father who was
settled here first — spoke to me once about
it, and said it was a tempting of Providence,
and that we hadn't no right to pry into se-
crets. 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 get208

DEEPHAVEN

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 say 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 folks who wrote 'em had any kind of am-
bition, they'd want to be movin' back here
again. But as for one person's having some-
thing 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 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 my-
self, ' Why couldn'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, 'Why ain't a mile as good as a
yard ? and it's the thinking that does it,''CUNNER-FISHING

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 and
we can kind of hear what other folks is
thinking of. We don't know nothing ex-
cept what we see. And some folks is scared,
and more thinks it is all nonsense 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, but 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 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 earnestness all carried no little per-
suasion. And it was impossible not to be sure2 IO

DEEPHAVEN

that he knew more than people usually do
about these mysteries in which he delighted.

"Now, how can you account for this?"
said he. " I remember not more than 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 cryin'
out mother/' says she, 'just as if she was
hurt. I heard it so plain that before I stopped
to think it seemed as if she were right in the
next room. I 'm afeard something has hap-
pened/ But the folks laughed, and said she
must ha' heard one of the lambs. ' No, it
was n't/ says she ; ' it was my 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 ? It was n't any
common hearing that heard that child's cryin'Captain Sands telling StoriesCUNNER-FISHING

2!3

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 downstairs with
her bonnet and shawl on, and said some-
body must put the horse right into the wagon
and take her down to Denby. ' Why, what
for, mother?' they says. ' Don't stop to
talk/ says she; 'your father is sick, and
wants me. It's been a-worrying me,since
before day, and I can't stand it no longer/
And the short of the story is that she kept
hurrying '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, and214

DEEPHAVEN

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 traveling, 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 Cap-
tain 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 afterward, I could n'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 as 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 they all marched to the funeral. There
was a good deal of respect shown him, I
tell ye.

u 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,CUNNKR-FISHING

215

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' 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 wa£ 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
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 scarlet-
fever, and was very slim for a long time after-
ward, and I used to keep along o' gran'ther,2l6

DEEPHAVEN

and he would tell me his old stories.
Father'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, but he'd never tell
us things like gran'ther. You remind me
to tell you some time about the pirates. 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 father, and they was dread-
ful f'erce 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, for they
s'posed 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.

. " I got to be mate when I was twenty, and
I was as strong a fellow as you 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 to sea after I was
fifteen year old, and there was n't anybodyCUNNER-FISHING

217

so glad to see me as gran'ther when I came
home. I expect he used to be lonesome 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 knowing that the folks would
a little rather they'd be in heaven, and a
good respectable headstone put up for 'em in
the burying-ground.

" Well, now, I'm sure I Ve forgot what I
was going to tell you. Oh, yes ; about grand-
mother dreaming about father when he come
home from sea. Well, to go back to the
first of it, gran'ther never was rugged; he
was to Valley Forge that winter in the Revo-
lutionary War, an' got the rheumatism fas-
tened on to him when he was a young man,
and though he lived to be so old, he neverDEEPHAVEN

could work hard, and never got forehanded;
and Aunt Hannah Starbird, over at East
Parish, took my sister to fetch up, because
she was named for her, and Melinda and
Tobias stayed at home with the old folks,
and my father went to live with an uncle
over in Riverport, whom he was named for.
He was in the West India trade and was
well off, and he had no children of his own, 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 Deephaven.

" One day he set father to putting some
cherries into a bar'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 1 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 Mat-
thew, 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, 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 wentCUNNER-FISHING

219

on four years, and gran'ther got used to it
some ; though grandmother never would give
up. And one morning early, before day,
she waked him up, and says she, 'We're
going to hear from Matthew. Get up quick
and go down to the store, an* see if there's a
letter ! ' 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 is n'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 er-
rand was, for he had been so many times,
and everybody supposed the boy was dead.
When he asked for a letter, the man said
there was none there, and asked if he was
expecting any particular one. He didn't
get many letters, I s'pose ; all his folks lived
about here, and people did n't write any to
speak of in those days. Gran'ther said he220

DEEPHAVEN

thought he wouldn'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 storekeeper, who was reading a
newspaper that had just come, * Here's some
news for you, Sands, I do believe ! There
are three vessels come into Boston harbor
that have been out whaling 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, 41
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 you ?" 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. Somebody lent him a boat, and
he went out to where there were two sealers
laying off riding at anchor, and he asked a
sailor if Matthew was aboard. '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 shoul-
ders, 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 heCUNNER-FISHING

221

asked how it happened ; and father told how
they'd been off sealing in the South Seas, and
he and another man had lived alone on an
island for months, and the whole crew had
grown wild in their ways of living, being off so
long, and for one thing had gone without hats
and let their hair grow. The rest of the
men had been ashore and got fixed up smart,
but he had been busy, and had put it off till
that morning ; he was just going ashore then.
Father was all struck up when he heard
about the dream, and said his mind had been
dwellin' on his mother and going home, and
he 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 haircut — father wouldn't — and wore
it in a queue. I remember seeing him with
it when I was a boy ; but his second wife
didn't like the looks of it, and she 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. That woman saw her
son ; but if you ask me what kind of eye-
sight it was, I can't tell you, nor nobody else."222

DEEPHAVEN

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 remem-
ber 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 Demeter takes care of the child and
gives it ambrosia and hides it in fire, because
she loves it and wishes to make it immortal
and to give it eternal youth ; and then the mo-
ther finds it out and cries in terror to hinder
her, and the goddess angrily throws the child
down and rushes away ? And he had to share
the common destiny of mankind, though he
always had some wonderful inscrutable grace
and wisdom, because a goddess had loved him
and held him in her arms. I always thought
that part of the story beautiful where Deme-CUNNER-FISHING	223

ter 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 al-
ways 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 Captain
Sands is right, and we have these instincts
which defy all our wisdom and for which we
never can frame any laws. We may laugh
at them, but we are always meeting them,
and one cannot help knowing that it has been
the same through all history. They are pow-
ers which are imperfectly developed in this
life, but one cannot help the thought that the
mystery of this world may be the common-
place of the next."

"I wonder," said I, "why it is that one
hears so much more of such things from v
simple country people. They believe in
dreams, and they have a kind of fetichism,
and believe so heartily in supernatural causes.
I suppose nothing could shake Mrs. Patton's224

DEEPHAVEN

faith in warnings. There is no end of
absurdity in it, and yet there is one side of
such lives for which one cannot help having
reverence ; they live so much nearer to na-
ture than people who are in cities, and there

i

V'Wr

Si

Bedtime

is often a soberness about country people
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 atCUNNER-FISHTNG

225

work with them on their familiar farms. In
their simple life they take their instincts for
truths, and perhaps they are not always" so
far wrong as we imagine. Because they are
so instinctive and unreasoning, they may have
a more complete sympathy with Nature, and
may hear her voices when wiser ears are
deaf. They have much in common, after
all, with the plants which grow up out of
the ground and the wild creatures which
depend upon their instincts wholly."

" I think," said Kate, " that the more one
lives out of doors the more personality there
seems to be in what we call inanimate things.
The strength of the hills and the voice of the
waves are no longer only grand poetical sen-
tences, 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 upstairs to bed. The light-
house lamp burned steadily, and it was the
only light that had not been blown out in all
Deephaven.Mrs. Bonny

I 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 coming home early in the evening hun-
gry as hunters and laden with treasure,
whether we had been through the pine woods
inland or alongshore, whether we had met
old friends or made some desirable new ac-
quaintances. 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 forMRS. BONNY	227

a drink of water ; this was our unfailing in-
troduction, and afterward there were many
interesting subjects which one could in-
troduce, and we could always give the latest
news at the shore. It was amusing to see
the curiosity which we aroused. Many 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 our-
selves. Kate was very clever at making un-
satisfactory 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 im-
pertinence.

I think there were no points of interest in
that region which we did not visit with con-
scientious 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 Spout-
ing 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 larger228

DEEPHAVEN

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 and oranges, which one might
carry away by the wherryful.

Inland there were not so many noted lo-
calities, but we used to enjoy the woods and
our explorations among the farms immensely.
To the westward the land was better and
the people well-to-do ; but we went oftenest
toward the hills and among the poorer peo-
ple. The land was uneven and full of ledges,
and the people worked hard for their living,
at most laying aside only a few dollars 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, dis-
couraged 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 disappointment
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 orMRS. BONNY

229

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 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 trifling
bargains, when one understood how much a
single dollar meant 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 envying us.

There was a high hill half a dozen miles
from Deephaven which was known in its
region as "the mountain." It was the high-
est 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 parish who lived
far from church, and to our delight he pro-
posed 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 long230

DEEPHAVEN

climb to the top of the hill, tbut 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-
cranberry, and had a long talk with Mr. Lori-
mer 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 ? "

" 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 whistlingMRS. BONNY

231

were useless, 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, 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 hem-
lock growth, where, on the lower branches,
the pale green of the new shoots and the
dark green of the old made an exquisite con-
trast each to the other. Finally we came
out at Mrs. Bonny's. Mr. Lorimer 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 bas-
ket-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 fas-
tened 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 buying232

DEEPHAVEN

her wares; but the old woman always man-
aged to jog home without 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 that her horse is
still alive!" And we all laughed when we
saw Mr^ Bonny's steed at a little distance,
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 walk-
ing solemnly by her side and did not deign
to notice him. Just now Mrs. Bonny ap-
peared 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 ? "

"This is Miss Kate Lancaster of Boston,
Miss Katharine Brandon's niece, and her
friend Miss Denis."MRS. BONNY	233

"Pleased to see ye," said the old woman;
"walk in and lay off your things." And we
followed her 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

I m.Vim 0

Mrs. Bonny's Home

wear ; also, some short skirts, beside two or
three aprons, the inner one being a full-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 her234

DEEPHAVEN

chin. I thought it was a nightcap, and that
she had forgotten to take it off, and dreaded
her mortification if she should suddenly be-
come 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 occu-
pied by a flock of hens and one turkey. The
latter was evidently 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 door-
step, apparently wishing to hear everything
that was said.

" B'en up on the mountain ?" asked our
hostess. " Real sightly place. Goin' to be a
master lot o' rosbries; get any down to the
shore sence I quit comin' ?"

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Lorimer, "but we miss
seeing 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 com-
fort ; 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 downMRS. BONNY

235

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,
wouldn't like some ? she used to be weakly
lookinV' 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 about foreordination and them
p'ints. Old Parson Padelford was the man !
I used to set under his preachin* a good deal;
I had an aunt living down to East Parish.
He'd get worked up till he'd shut up the
Bible and preach the hair off your head, 'long
at the end of the sermon. Could n't under-
stand more nor a quarter part o' what he
said," said Mrs. Bonny admiringly. "Well,236

DEEPHAVEN

we were a-speaking about the meeting over to
the ledge ; I don't know's I like them ledge
people any to speak of. They had a great
revival over there in the fall, and 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
couldn't stand it no longer; and by and by
says he, 41 've been a wanderer;' and I up
and says right out, (Yes, you have, I '11 back
ye up on that, Ben; ye Ve wandered round 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 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 Parson
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 herMRS. BONNY

237

big steel-bowed spectacles and sat looking
at him with an expression of extreme wis-
dom. 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 shiftless, them young folks.
Old Mis' Hate-evil Beckett 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 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, dodging238

DEEPHAVEN

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 wished to go
back to the spring and get some water.

" 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
affer 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 oneMrs. Bonny at HomeMRS. BONNY

241

treasure after another, putting them on the
mantelpiece or dropping them on the floor.
There were some bunches of dried her-bs, a
tin horn, a lump of tallow in a broken plate,
a folded newspaper, and an old boot, with a
number of turkey-wings tied together, several
vials, and a steel trap, and finally, such a tum-
bler ! which she produced with triumph, be-
fore 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
satisfaction. 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 possible, for we could
not lose a bit of the conversation.

There was a beautiful view from the door-
step, and we stopped a minute there. " Real
sightly, ain't it?" said Mrs. Bonny. "But
you ought to be here and look acrost 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 ?"242

DEEPHAVEN

"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 grum voice;
could it be possible he didn'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 did n'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 at Mr. Lorimer's
having taken the trouble to come to see her.
All those people had a great reverence 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 customers and acquaintances. " I
believe some of those old creatur's will never
die," said she; "why, they're getting to be
terble old, ain't they, Mr. Lorimer ? There !
ye've done me a sight of good, and I wish I
could ha' found the Bible, to hear ye readMRS. BONNY

243

a Psalm." When Mr. Lorimer shook hands
with her, at leaving, she made him a most
reverential 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 interested, that Kate
and I, and Mr. Lorimer himself, caught a
new, fresh meaning in 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 harm-
less 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
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 some-
thing so wild and unconventional about Mrs.
Bonny that it was like taking an afternoon
walk with a good-natured Indian. We used
to carry her offerings ot tobacco, for she was
a great smoker, and advised us to try it our-
selves 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 con-
nected with a large tract of pasture-land per-
haps 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 din-
ner, which we did not mind doing at all.IN SHADOW	245

After we were three or four miles from
Deephaven, the country looked very differ-
ent. 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 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 farm-
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 occa-
sional whiff of salt 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, dash-
ing its white spray high over the ledges that
quiet day. What could it be in winter when246

DEEPHAVEN

there was a storm and the great waves came
thundering in ?

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. 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-flow-
ers 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.
Uockum. 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 andIN SHADOW	247

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 we were so glad that we could
give the man more 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/1 said the man, with
the tears coming into his eyes, and a huski-
ness in his voice. " I Ve done the best I
could, and I 'm willin1 and 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 haven'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 now-
adays, 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 my248

DEEPHAVEN

oldest boy, he's getting ahead. He pushed
off this spring, and he works in a box-shop
to Boston ; a cousin 0' 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 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 people afterward ; and
when one day we met the man in Deep-
haven, 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 re-
ported impassable, and we put off our sec-
ond excursion for this reason and others
until just before we left Deephaven, late in
October.

We knew the coast-road would be bad
after the fall rains, and we found that Lean-
der, the eldest of the Dockum boys, had
some errand that way, so he went with us.
We enjoyed the drive that morning in spiteIN SHADOW

249

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
we crossed pebble beaches, and then went

A Pebble Beach

farther inland, through woods and up and
down steep little hills ; over shaky bridges
which crossed narrow salt creeks 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,250	DEEPHAVEN

seemed surprised and interested, and be-
came 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 p int ?" 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 p'int, where he goes out
every hand's turn 0' 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 muffled up on
the dead branch of a pine-tree ; we saw a rab-
bit 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
holding high their ungainly spikes of red ber-
ries ; there were sturdy barberry-bushes along
the lonely wayside, their unpicked fruit
hanging in brilliant clusters. The blueberry-
bushes made patches of dull red along the
hillsides. The ferns were whitish-gray andIN SHADOW	251

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 south-
ward.

When we reached the house, to our sur-
prise 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 distance, Kate and I went to
the house and knocked. I opened the door
a little way and said " Hello !" 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 nobody at the barn,
and that they must have gone to a funeral;
he could n't think of anything else.

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 become of the family.252	DEEPHAVEN

"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 afternoon. Thought ye
were some of her folks from up country,
when we were coming 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 ?" 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 person 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 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 alongIN SHADOW

253

in the first of August. I'd ha' got up from
it!"

" don't be hard on the dead, Marthy,"
said her husband. <( I guess they done the
best they could. They were n't so 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
woman promptly, with perfect unconscious-
ness 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 to be old?"
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
Providence is dreadful myster'ous," she went254

DEKPHAVEN

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 upJ'

" But perhaps they '11 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 pleasant 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
home?"

"Thank ye, I'm sure," said the aunt, re-
lenting 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 ?
I should be pleased to have you call and see
the child'n, if you're over this way again. I
heard 'em talk about you last time I was over.
Won't ye step into the house and see him ?
He looks real natural," she added. But we
said, " No, thank you."

Leander told us he believed he would n'tIN SHADOW	255

bother about the dory that day, and he
should be there at the house whenever we
were ready. He evidently 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 loi-
ter round, or they wouldn'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 be-
fore ; 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 pim-
pernel and one or two sprigs of fringed gen-
tian 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-256	DEEPHAVEN

house. We said how much we should like to
go to the 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
poor-house, and yet we could not help pitying
the hard-worked, discouraged woman whom
we had seen, in spite of her bitterness. Poor
soul! she looked like a person to whom no-
body 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, and we wondered how we should
have felt if we had gone farther into the
room and had found the dead man in his cof-
fin, all alone in the house. We thought of
our first visit, 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.

The FuneralIN SHADOW

259

" 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 ? Did you not notice that they
seemed very fond of each other when we
saw them in the summer ? 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 strug-
gles he had already come through against
poverty and disappointment 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 or two dollars in safe keeping/'
said I. " Do you remember that merry lit-
tle song in 'As You Like It' ?

'Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live V the sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets ;'

and

* Here shall he see

No enemy
Hut winter and rough weather.'2<5o

DEEPHAVEN

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 com-
forts 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 success! 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 unsatis-
factory, how purposeless and disastrous, any
life must be which is not a Christian life. It
is like being always in the dark, and wander-
ing one knows not where, if one is not
learning more and more what it is to have
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 sup-
posed that the funeral would be all over with,
but found we had been mistaken when weIN SHADOW

261

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. We found, too late, that it would
have been much better for us to go in, and
we learned a little more of the sad story. We
liked this man, there was so much pity in his
face and voice. " He was a real willin', hon-
est 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; 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 I see him, and he died Sunday
mornin', when the tide begun to ebb. I al-
ways set a good deal by Andrew; we used
to play together down to the great cove;262

DEEPHAVEN

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
singing "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 little 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 far 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. We saw a for-
lorn-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 largeIN SHADOW

263

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 proprieties 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 everything. 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 the waves were leaping high, and break-
ing 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 some-
thing piteous about this ; the mourners looked
so few, and we could hear the rattle of the264	DEEPHAVEN

wagon wheels. " He's gone, ain't he ? " said
someone 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 indiffer-
ence 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 ?

To Kate and me there came a sudden
consciousness of the mystery and inevitable-
ness of death; it was not fear, thank God !
but a thought of 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 them-
selves, 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.IN SHADOW

We stayed awhile longer, until the little
black funeral had crawled out of sight; un-
til we had seen the last funeral guest go
away and the door had been shut and fas-
tened with a queer old padlock and some

Forsaken

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 some-
how been to blame, and that after a long, des-
perate struggle for life under its roof and266

DKEPHAVEN

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 mortgaged 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.

I think to-day of that fireless, empty, for-
saken 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 un-
trodden 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

THE Deephaven people used to say
sometimes, 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 un-
touched 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 newer268

DEEPIIAVEN

houses, belonging to fishermen ; some dilapi-
dated fish-houses ; and a row of fish-flakes.
Every house seemed to have a lane of its
own, and all faced different ways 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 sound-
ing-board, and finally found the great 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 lay a majestic bass-viol with
all its strings snapped but the largest, which
gave out a doleful sound when we touched
it, and somehow looked very uncomfortable
until we built up a pillow of hymn books
under its head.

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 work-
manship, 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 was falling
piece by piece ; one shed had been blown down
entirely by a late high wind. The large win-MISS CIIAUNCEY

269

dows had many small panes of glass, and the
great chimneys were built of bright red
bricks which used to be brought from over-
seas in the early days of the colonies. We
noticed the gnarled lilacs in the yard, the
wrinkled cinnamon-roses, and a flourishing
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
can ask Miss Honora," And we climbed
over the boards which were put up like pas-
ture-bars across the wide front gateway.

" We shall certainly meet a ghost," said
Kate.

Just as we stood on the steps the great
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 sur-
prised at first sight of us, then quickly re-
covered 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.DEEPHAVEN

" What is your pleasure ? " said she ; and
we felt like two awkward children. Kate
partially recovered 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 bowed gravely, when we thanked
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 ? " said Kate, but we wondered and puzzled
and talked over "the ghost" until we saw
Miss Honora Carew, who told us that it was
Miss Sally Chauncey.

" 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 Chaun-
cey s were people of great renown until early
in the present century, and then their for-
tunes changed. They had always been rich
and well educated; and I suppose nobody
ever had a gayer, happier time than Miss
Sally did in her girlhood, for they enter-
tained 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 becameMiss Sally ChaunceyMISS CI-IAUNCEY	273

partially insane, and died after many years of
poverty. I have often heard a tradition that
a sailor had cursed him, to whom he had bro-
Icen a" promise, and that none of the family
had died in their beds or had any good for-
tune since. The East Parish people seem to
believe 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 011
without him, and she said Yes, thinking that
he had his orders to go 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 chambers, a dangerous prisoner.
I have heard Jiis horrid shrieks 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 sad-
dest part of the story. When she first lost
her reason she was sent to a hospital, for
there was ho one who could take care of her.
The mania was so acute that no one had the
slightest thought that she would recover or274

DEEPHAVEN

even live long. Her guardian sold the fur-
niture and pictures and china, almost every-
thing but clothing, to pay the bills at the hos-
pital, until the house was fairly empty; and
then one spring day -— I remember it well —■
she came home in her right mind, and, with-
out a thought of what was awaiting her, ran
eagerly into her destroyed 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 con-
tented, 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 grand housekeeping of the
Chaunceys when I was a child. I have been
to see her, and she always knows me, though
I go but seldom of late years. She is several
years older than I. She has some old 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 pay her a visit. I hope she will hap-MISS CHAUNCEY

275

pen 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 be-
fore 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 because nobody answered.
While we waited, a girl came up the walk
and said that Miss Sally lived upstairs, and
she would speak to her if we liked. " Some-
times 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 ? Perhaps she will refuse to see us."

" Yes, indeed," said the girl; "everybody
goes right in ; she is a little deaf. I '11 go and
find her, somewhere upstairs."

So we went into the great hall, with its
wide staircase and handsome cornices and
paneling, and then into the large parlor on
the right, and could look through it to a
smaller room opening on the garden, which
sloped down to the river. Both rooms had
fine carved mantels, with Dutch-tiled fire-276	DEEPHAVEN

places, and in the cornices we saw the fas-
tenings where pictures had hung, — old por-
traits, perhaps. And what had become of
them ? The girl did not know : the house
had been the same ever since she could re-
member, 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 our guide
went 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
her with great solemnity as she glanced 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 win-
dows where the shutters were not drawn, and
the light in the room was greenish and dim.

Kate and I waited while the young neigh-
bor went upstairs 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
waiting ? " 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 ghostlyMISS CHAUNCEY	277

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 uncanny
way. She slowly descended the stairs and
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 waved us toward 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 tak-
ing a place in the window-seat. I have seen
few such elegant women as Miss Chauncey.
Thoroughly at her ease, she had the fine
manners 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 ceremonious phrases suited her ex-
tremely 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.278	DEEPHAVEN

She asked for the Carews and Mr. Lori-
mer; 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."

" Do you not know that she is dead ?"
asked Kate.

"Ah, they say that about every one now-
adays. I do not comprehend the strange
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 sel-
dom now; so perhaps she waits my visit. I
will not speak uncourteously, and you must
remember 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 believed that 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 tiresome questions, but it was so rarely
that she saw any one direct from Boston, ofMISS C1IAUXCEV

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 watching Kate with a bewildered
look, which at last faded away, a smile com-
ing in its place. " I think you are like my
mother/1 she said ; " did any one ever say to
you that you are like my mother ? Will you
let me see your forehead ? Yes ; but your
hair is a little darker." Kate had risen when
Miss Chauncey did, and they stood side by
side. There was a tone in the old woman's
voice which brought the tears to my eyes.
She stood there some minutes looking at
Kate, and completely lost in thought. 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 genera-
tion and Kate Lancaster of the new. Miss
Chauncey turned to me, saying, " Look up
at the portrait; you must see the likeness
too." But when she turned and saw only 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 forgotten.
Presently she said anxiously, " Pardon me,
dear, but I forget your question."280

DEEPHAVEN

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 charming long story about her
friends and about her " 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 beyond. She
even remembered what some of her friends
wore, and her own gown was a silver-gray
brocade with rosebuds of three colors. She
told us how she witched 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 thought-
fully. And then she lost the idea, and talked
about Kate's great-grandmother, whom she
had known well, 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 ! SheMISS CHAUNCEY

281

had gathered together some few pieces of her
old furniture, which half filled one fine room,
and here she lived. There was a tall, hand-
some chest of drawers, which I should have
liked much to ransack. Miss Carew had told
us that Miss Chauncey had large claims
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 wished
to climb up and look into the upper part of
this antique piece of furniture, for it seemed
to me I could at once put my band 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 most religious; in fact,
it was the only subject about which she was
perfectly sane. We saw almost nothing of
her insanity that day ; it was more like forget-
fulness, though afterward she was different.
There were days when her mind seemed
clear; but sometimes she was silent, and
often she would confuse Kate with Miss
Brandon, and talk to her strangely of long-
forgotten plans and people. She would rarely282

DEEPHAVEN

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 some-
thing in Miss Carew's 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 comparing the end of her life with its
beginning. To herself she was still Miss
Chauncey, a gentlewoman of high family,
possessed of unusual worldly advantages.
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 distantMiss Chauncey^s GardenMISS CIIAUNCEY	285

steeples of Riverport, it was plain to see
that it was still the Riverport of her girl-
hood. 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 were ex-
pected for the evening, — what did it mat-
ter ? The twilight had closed around her
gradually, 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 touching 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 re-
member just now, as I write, one summer
afternoon 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
Chauncey had opened the great book at ran-
dom and read slowly, " In my Father's house
are many mansions ;" and then, looking off286

DEEPHAVEN

for a moment at a fallen leaf which had
blown into the window-recess,. she repeated
it: "In my Father's house are many man-
sions ; 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 reverie,
and the tears came into our eyes as we
watched her look of perfect content. Through
all 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 visiting Kate in Boston, Mr. Lorimer
came to see us, and told us about her last
days.

It seems that after much persuasion she
was induced to go to spend the winter with
a neighbor, her house having become un-
inhabitable, 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 go through half-frozen water, and then
went upstairs, where she seated herself at a
front window and called joyfully to the peo-
ple who went by, asking them to come in to
see her, for now she had got home again.MISS CIIAUNCEY

287

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 hours 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.

Mr. Lorimer spoke of her simple good-
ness, and told us that though she had no
other sense of time, and hardly knew if it
were summer or winter, 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/1 added the old minis-
ter reverently" for though bewildered in
mind, bereft of friends and riches, 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

WHEN the summer was ended it was no
sorrow to us, for we were even more
fond of Deephaven in the glorious autumn
weather than we had ever been before. Mr.
Lancaster, Kate's father, 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 reestablish the Boston
housekeeping, and to take up her city life
again. I must admit we half dreaded that:
we were surprised to find how little we cared
for it, and how well one can get on withoutLAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN 289

many things which are thought indispensa-
ble.

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 mag-
nificent storm, and we went every day along
the shore in the wind and rain for a mile or
two to see the furious great breakers come
plunging in against the rocks. 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 the 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.290

DEEPHAVEN

I have been many 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-
by to our friends, and we tried to make be-
lieve that we should spend the next summer
in Deephaven, and we promised 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; we thought it was only our-
selves who had cared so much for them, and
we said over and over again how happy we
had been, and that it was such a happy sum-
mer. Kate laughingly proposed one evening,
as we sat talking by the fire and were par-
ticularly contented, that we should copy the
Ladies of Llangollen, 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 weLAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVKX 291

have had this summer, and we could study
and grow very wise ; and what could be pleas-
anter ? 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."

" I suppose if we really belonged in Deep-
haven we should think it a hard fate, and not
enjoy it half so much as we have this sum-
mer," 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 luncheon-parties, and
symphony concerts, and visits, and fairs, the
reading-club, and the children's hospital We
should think the people uncongenial and be-
hind 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. Per-
haps 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 Kate292

DEEPHAVEN

laughing. " Do you know that I have under-
stood 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 now how we might 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
good. Sometimes it is a conscious choice,
but oftener unconscious. I suppose we edu-
cate ourselves for taking the best of life or
the worst, do not you ? "

" 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 her clinging to the old fashions and
her respect for what used to be respectable
when she was young. I cannot make fun
of what was once dear to somebody, and em-
bodied somebody's ideas of beauty or fitness.
I don't dispute the usefulness of a new bus-
tling, manufacturing town with its progres-
sive ideas ; but there is a simple dignity in
a town like Deephaven, as if it tried to be
loyal to the traditions of its ancestors. It
quietly accepts its altered circumstances,
if it has seen better days, and has no harsh
feelings toward the cities which have drawn
away its business, but it lives on, making allLAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN 293

the old houses and boats and clothes last as
long as possible.'5

" I think one cannot help," said I, " hav-
ing a different affection for an old place like
Deephaven from that which one may have
for a newer town. Here, though there are
no exciting historical associations and none
of the veneration which one has for the very
old cities and towns 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 must
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 some-
body's favorite chair and look out of the win-
dow at the sea, and dream about our wishes
and our hopes and plans just as they did be-
fore us. Something of them still lingers
where their lives were spent. We are often
reminded of our friends who have died and
feel their dear presence ; why are we not re-
minded 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 and294

DEEI'HAVEN

prayer where so many heavy hearts have
brought their burdens and have gone away
comforted ?"

" When I first came here," said Kate, " it
used to seem very sad to me to find Aunt

Somebody's Favorite Chair

Katharine's little trinkets and possessions
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 should carry nothing out of this world.
Yet I can't help wishing that it were pos-
sible to keep some of my worldly goodsLAST DAYS IX DEEPHAVEN 295

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 I shall not
miss them. Is n't it strange to think of not
reading one's Bible any more ? I suppose
this is a very low view of heaven, don't you ? "
And we both smiled.

" I think the next dwellers in this house
ought to find a decided atmosphere of con-
tentment," said I. " Have you ever thought
that it took us some time to make it your
house instead- of Miss Brandon's ? 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
remember 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 was so much to say. Of
course we asked my Aunt Mary to stay with296	DEEPHAVEN

us, and Miss Margaret Tennant, and many
of our girl-friends. All our acquaintances
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 har-
bor 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
Brandon 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 stumbling-
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 every one does who
goes away for the summer; but I must con-
fess that our grand plans were not well
carried out. Our Latin dictionaries were on
the table in the west parlor until the sight
of them mortified us; and finally, to avoidLAST DAYS IX DEEPHAVEN" 297

their silent reproach, I put them in the
closet, with the excuse that it would be as
easy to find them there, and they would be
out of the way. We used to have the maga-
zines sent us from town ; you would have
smiled at the box of foreign 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 any-
thing else.

Kate said one day that she did not care,
in reading, to be always making new acquaint-
ances, 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 asso-
ciates with the story. I am not often sepa-
rated from Jean Ingelow's "Stories told to
a Child/' that charmingly wise and pleasant
little volume. It is always new, like Kate's
favorite. It is very hard to make a list of
the books one likes best, but I remember298

DEEPHAVEN

that we had "The Village on the Cliff," and
"Henry Esmond," and "Tom Brown at
Rugby," with his more serious ancestor,
"Sir Thomas Browne." I am sure we had
"Fenelon's Letters and Sermons," for we al-
ways have those wherever we are ; and there
was "Pet Marjorie," and " Rah," and "An-
nals 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
which Kate gets so much entertainment and
profit. We did read some of Mr. Emerson's
essays together, out of. doors, and several
plays of Shakespeare and some stories which
had been our dear friends at school, like
"Leslie Goldthwaite," for old time's sake.
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 be-
cause they had such quaint old brown leather
bindings. You will not doubt that we had
brought all our most 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.LAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN 299

We used to go out to take tea, and to dine
and do a great deal of social visiting, which
was very pleasant. It was a great attention
to be asked to spend the day, which courtesy
we used to delight in extending to our
friends; and we entertained 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 our-
selves 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 black-
berry-briers so soon disfigure one's every-day
clothes.

We became in the course of time learned
in all manner of longshore lore, and even
profitably employed ourselves one morning
in going clam-digging with old Ben Horn, a
most fascinating ancient mariner. We both
grew perfectly 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 together always, and alone together
a great deal, and we became wonderfully
well acquainted. We are such good friends300-	DEEPHAVEN

that we often were silent for a long time,
when mere acquaintances would have felt
compelled to talk and try to entertain each
other.

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 rheuma-
tism claimed many victims ; and there was
one day, it must be confessed, when a biting,Clam DiggingLAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN 303

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.

In the front yards we saw the flower-beds
black with frost, except a few brave pansies
which had kept green and 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, I think we loved Deephaven 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-o1-nine-tails. They
were much in our way on the journey home,
but we clung affectionately to these last
sheaves of our harvest.

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 smile3°4

DEEPHAVEN

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.

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 sun-
sets ; 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
unlooked-for importance as members of so-
ciety, and how kind every 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 may not
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 two 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. WeLAST DAYS IN DEEPHAVEN 305

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 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.This book is a preservation facsimile produced for
the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
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and produced on acid-free archival

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