him.

"Sociable!" he repeated. "You're sailin' stern first, Jed.
Lonesome's what you mean, of course."

Jed shook his head.

"No-o," he drawled, "I mean sociable. There's too many boys in
there, for one thing."

"Boys!" Captain Sam was beginning to be really alarmed now.
"Boys! Say--say, Jed Winslow, you come along home to dinner with
me. I bet you've forgot to eat anything for the last day or so--
been inventin' some new kind of whirlagig or other--and your empty
stomach's gone to your head and made it dizzy. Boys! Gracious
king! Come on home with me."

Jed smiled his slow smile. "I don't mean real boys, Sam," he
explained. "I mean me--I'm the boys. Nights now when I'm walkin'
around in that house alone I meet myself comin' round every corner.
Me when I was five, comin' out of the buttery with a cooky in each
fist; and me when I was ten sittin' studyin' my lesson book in the
corner; and me when I was fifteen, just afore Father died, sittin'
all alone thinkin' what I'd do when I went to Boston Tech same as
he said he was cal'latin' to send me. Then--"

He paused and lapsed into one of his fits of musing. His friend
drew a breath of relief.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Well, I don't mind your meetin' yourself. I