Montague's bedroom. When he woke up enough to open the door--it took
some time, 'cause eating and sleeping was his mainstay--we told him that
we was planning an early morning fishing trip, and if he wanted to go
with the folks he must come down to the landing quick. He promised to
hurry, and I stayed by the door to see that he didn't get away. In about
ten minutes we had him in the skiff rowing off to the Patience M.

"Where's the rest of the crowd?" says he, when he stepped aboard.

"They'll be along when we're ready for 'em," says I. "You go below
there, will you, and stow away the coats and things."

So he crawled into the cabin, and I helped Jonadab get up sail. We
intended towing the skiff, so I made her fast astern. In half a shake we
was under way and headed out of the cove. When that British poet stuck
his nose out of the companion we was abreast the p'int.

"Hi!" says he, scrambling into the cockpit. "What's this mean?"

I was steering and feeling toler'ble happy over the way things had
worked out.

"Nice sailing breeze, ain't it?" says I, smiling.

"Where's Mau-Miss Stumpton?" he says, wild like.

"She's abed, I cal'late," says I, "getting her beauty sleep. Why don't
YOU turn in? Or are you pretty enough now?"

He looked first at me and then at Jonadab, and his face turned a little