of the wet pitch-pines was unusually sweet, and we wandered about for an
hour or two there, to find some ferns we wanted, and then walked over
toward East Parish, and home by the long beach late in the afternoon. We
came as far as the boat-landing, meaning to go home through the lane,
but to our delight we saw Captain Sands sitting alone on an old
overturned whaleboat, whittling busily at a piece of dried kelp. "Good
evenin'," said our friend, cheerfully. And we explained that we had
taken a long walk and thought we would rest awhile before we went home
to supper. 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."

"Bless ye! no," said the captain. "My girl Lo'isa, she that's Mis
Winslow over to Riverport, used to go out with me a good deal, and it
seemed natural to have you aboard. I missed Lo'isa after she got
married, for she was al'ays ready to go anywhere 'long of father. She's
had slim health of late years. I tell 'em she's been too much shut up
out of the fresh air and sun. When she was young her mother never could
pr'vail on her to set in the house stiddy and sew, and she used to have
great misgivin's that Lo'isa never was going to be capable. How about
those fish you caught this morning? 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."