"A fine mornin'," repeated Peter, with a long gaze at the board, "an'
no mistake."

There was another long interval, during which everybody stared hard
at the Notice.

"'Tes a powerful fine mornin'," Peter re-asserted very slowly, "ef so
be as your station in life es in noways connected with turmuts.
Ef 'tes the less us says about the mornin' the better." With this
observation Peter looked hard at Mr. Fogo, as if the ball of
conversation now lay in that gentleman's hands.

"What do 'ee think o' this 'ere Notice?" broke in Caleb.

Paul twitched his yellow bandanna and smiled evasively.

"'Tes very pretty writin', sir, sure-ly," he replied, addressing Mr.
Fogo. "Nice thick down-strokes, an' all as it shou'd be."

"Uncommon fash'nubble et makes the beach look, sir, a'ready," added
Peter.

Some mental reservation seemed to lurk behind this criticism.
Mr. Fogo looked dubiously from the Twins to Caleb, who stood with his
eyes fixed on his handiwork.

"Axin' your pard'n, sir, an' makin' so free as to mention et," began
Peter at length, pulling off his hat and twirling the brim between
his fingers, "but us was a bit taken aback, not understandin' as