was Mr. Bill Hen Pike. Mr. Bill Hen had been a sailor himself fifty
years ago, and it was a point of honour with him to visit anything with
keel and sails that came up the river. He used nautical expressions
whenever it could be managed, and was the village authority on all
sea-going matters.

There were Isaac Cutter and his wife, who had money to spend, and were
not averse to showing it; there was Miss Eliza Clinch, who had spent her
fifty years of life in looking for a bargain, which she had not yet
found; and some others. But though the Skipper was courteous to all, he
kept close to the side of Mr. Endymion Scraper; and the boy John, and
Lena Brown, who was always kind to him, kept close beside the other two.
The girl was enchanted with what she saw, but her joy was chiefly in
the trinkets that filled the glass counter,--the necklaces and
bracelets, the shell hairpins and mother-of-pearl portemonnaies.

"Aint they handsome?" she cried, over and over, surveying the treasures
with clasped hands and shining eyes. "Oh, Johnny! isn't that just
elegant? Did you ever see such beautiful things? I don't think the
President's wife has no handsomer than them!"

John frowned a little at these ecstasies, and glanced at the Skipper;
but the Skipper was apparently absorbed in polishing the Royal Tritons,
and showing them to Mr, Scraper, who regarded them with disdainful eyes,
while his fingers twitched to lay hold of them.

"Why, Lena, you don't want to be looking at those things!" the boy
urged. "See! here are the shells! Here are the real ones, not made up
into truck, but just themselves. Oh, oh! Lena, look!"