"No, lass, it _wouldn't_," retorted the captain. "You're too fond of
improvin' things. I'm a stanch old Tory, I am. I'll stick to the old
flag till all's blue. None o' your changes or improvements for me."

This was a rather bold statement for a man to make who improved upon
almost every line he ever quoted; but the reader is no doubt
acquainted with parallel instances of inconsistency in good men even
in the present day.

"Now, sister," continued Captain Ogilvy, "what d'ye think of my
plan?"

"I like it well, brother," replied Mrs. Brand with a gentle smile.
"Will you come soon?"

"To-morrow, about eight bells," answered the captain promptly.

This was all that was said on the subject. The thing was, as the
captain said, settled off-hand, and accordingly next morning he
conveyed such of his worldly goods as he meant to retain possession
of to his sister's cottage--"the new ship", as he styled it. He
carried his traps on his own broad shoulders, and the conveyance of
them cost him three distinct trips.

They consisted of a huge sea-chest, an old telescope more than a yard
long, and cased in leather; a quadrant, a hammock, with the bedding
rolled up in it, a tobacco-box, the enormous old Family Bible in
which the names of his father, mother, brothers, and sisters were
recorded; and a brown teapot with half a lid. This latter had