They say when he was dying he asked his wife to bury
him beside the dog; she was a meek little soul but she
fired up at THAT. She said SHE wasn't going to be
buried beside no dog, and if he'd rather have his last
resting place beside the dog than beside her, jest to
say so. Alexander Elliott was a stubborn mule, but he
was fond of his wife, so he give in and said, `Well,
durn it, bury me where you please. But when Gabriel's
trump blows I expect my dog to rise with the rest of
us, for he had as much soul as any durned Elliott or
Crawford or MacAllister that ever strutted.' Them was
HIS parting words. As for Marshall, we're all used to
him, but he must strike strangers as right down
peculiar- looking. I've known him ever since he was
ten--he's about fifty now--and I like him. Him and me
was out cod-fishing today. That's about all I'm good
for now--catching trout and cod occasional. But
'tweren't always so--not by no manner of means. I used
to do other things, as you'd admit if you saw my
life-book."

Anne was just going to ask what his life-book was when
the First Mate created a diversion by springing upon
Captain Jim's knee. He was a gorgeous beastie, with a
face as round as a full moon, vivid green eyes, and
immense, white, double paws. Captain Jim stroked his
velvet back gently.

"I never fancied cats much till I found the First
Mate," he remarked, to the accompaniment of the Mate's