Then, perhaps for the first time, I took a real long look at that doctor,
who was sitting forward, perched on the head of a barrel. He was laughing
with Frenchy, and held the boy on his lap. I decided that he belongs to a
class that is familiar to us. You know his kind, Aunt Jennie, keen of
eye, full of quiet determination, and always moving forcibly, even if
slowly, towards success. We have seen lots of them on the football
fields, at Corinthian yacht races, wherever big chaps are contending and
care but little for the safety of their necks as long as they are playing
the game.

To me the strangest thing about this man is that he appears to be
thoroughly adapted to these surroundings, and yet would be equally at
home in what we choose to call our set, just like that dear woman Mrs.
Barnett. I can't help wondering what he is doing here, I mean apart from
his obvious work which, in all conscience, appears to be hard enough.

He was pointing out something to the little boy, in the distance, so that
I stared also and caught a puff of vapor above the water.

"It's a whale, isn't it?" I asked.

"Yis, ma'am," replied Sammy. "It's one o' they big sulphur-bottoms. Them
little whaling steamers is mighty glad to get hold o' that kind. They
grows awful big. I've seed some shockin' big fellows."

"I'd like to see one caught. It must be ever so exciting," I said.

"There ain't no whalin' stations in these parts, but they tells me some
of 'em 'll tow them little steamers miles and miles, even wid' engine
half speed astern. Then other times they gits 'em killed first shot out