which convinced him that he was not meant for a seaman, Mr. Bangs had
never been farther from his native village than Boston. Captain Cy had
been almost everywhere and seen almost everything. He could spin yarns
that beat the serial stories in the patent inside of the Bayport Breeze
all hollow. Bailey had figured that, when the "fixin' over" was ended,
the Cy Whittaker place would be for him a delightful haven of refuge,
where he could put his boots on the furniture, smoke until dizzy without
being pounced upon, be entertained and thrilled with tales of adventure
afloat and ashore, and even express his own opinion, when he had any,
with the voice and lung power of a free-born American citizen.

And now Asaph Tidditt, who should know better, even though he was a
bachelor, wanted to bring a wife into this paradise; not a paid domestic
who could be silenced, or discharged, if she became a nuisance, but a
WIFE! Bailey guessed not; not if he could prevent it.

So he lay awake nights thinking of possible housekeepers for Captain Cy,
and carefully rejecting all those possessing dangerous attractions of
any kind. Each morning, after breakfast, he ran over the list with the
captain, taking care that Asaph was not present. Captain Cy, who was
very busy with the finishing touches at the new old house, wearied on
the third morning.

"There, there, Bailey!" he said. "Don't bother me now. I've got other
things on my mind. How do I know who all these women folks are you're
stringing off to me? Let me alone, do."

"But you must have a housekeeper, Cy. You'll move in Monday and you
won't have nobody to--"