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-tellin' 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 consider'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 Singapore. I
was the lonesomest man, when I 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 Brandon's grand-daughter?" (to Kate); "why, he and I have been
out fishing together many's the time,--he and Chantrey, his next younger
brother. Henry, he was a disapp'intment; he went to furrin parts and
turned out a Catholic priest, 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 satisfaction. We found he
had his pet stories, and it must have been gratifying to have an