See?said Captain Zeb,puffing still from the exertion of climbing the ladder to the cupoler,for he was distinctly fleshy.See?The beacon's up.Packet come in this mornin'.There she is.See her down there by the breakwater?Sure enough,the empty barrel,painted red,was hoisted to the top of its pole on the crest of Cannon Hill.And,looking down at the bay and following the direction of the stubby pointing finger,Ellery saw a little schooner,with her sails lowered,lying,slightly on her side,in a shallow pool near a long ridge of piled stones--the breakwater.A small wharf made out from the shore and black figures moved briskly upon it.Carts were alongside the schooner and there more dots were busy.
Eben's pennant's flyin',said Captain Zeb.He always sets colors when the packet's in.Keeps packet tavern,Eben does.That's it,that old-fashioned,gambrel-roofed house on the rise by the wharf.Call it 'Saints'Rest,'they do now,'cause Eben's so mighty religious.The minister saw the long,rambling house,with one lonely,twisted tree in its yard,a flag flying from a pole beside it.So that was where the Hammonds lived.And where the girl lived who was certain he was a conceited snippet.Whatever he might be in reality he hoped it was not that.Snippetwas not in his dictionary,but he didn't like the sound of it.
Who owns the packet?he asked,to make conversation.
Zach Foster.Married Freewill Doane's daughter over to Harniss.She's dead now.
A good sailor,is he?
Captain Zeb spat in supreme disgust.
Good farmer!he snorted.Zach took over the packet for a debt when the chap that used to run her died.His dad,old man Foster,raised garden truck at the same time mine went to sea.Both of us took after our fathers,I guess.Anyhow,my wife says that when Idie 'twill be of salt water on the brain,and I'm sure Zach's head is part cabbage.Been better for him if he'd stuck to his garden.However,I s'pose he does his best.
They say angels can do no more.
Um-m.Well,Zach'll be an angel pretty soon if he keeps on cruisin'with that old hooker as she is.'Bijah Perry,he's mate and the only good seaman aboard,tells me that most of the riggin's rotten and the main topmast ain't sound,by a good deal.The old man's put off havin'her overhauled for two reasons,one that repairs cost money,and t'other that puttin'off is the main sheet of his gospel.When there's no rain the roof don't leak and long's it don't blow too hard 'most any kind of gear'll hold.That's philosophy--cabbage philosophy.Ellery decided that he should like Captain Zeb,although it was evident that the old whaler had decided opinions of his own which he did not hesitate to express.He judged that the Mayos were of the so-called aristocracy,but undoubtedly unique specimens.He visited four more households that afternoon.The last call was at Mrs.Thankful Payne's,and while there,listening to the wonderful poem,he saw Miss Van Horne pass the window,as has already been told.He came home to a Cape Cod supper of scalloped clams,hot biscuits,and baked Indian pudding,and Keziah greeted him with a cheery smile which made him feel that it WAS home.His summary disposal of the charthad evidently raised him in his housekeeper's estimation.She did not ask a single question as to where he had been.
Next day he had a taste of Trumet's real aristocracy,the genuine article.Captain Elkanah Daniels and his daughter made their first formal call.The captain was majestic in high hat,fur-collared cape,tailed coat,and carrying a gold-headed cane.Miss Annabel wore her newest gown and bonnet and rustled as she walked.They entered the sitting room and the lady glanced superciliously about the apartment.
Hum--ha!barked Captain Elkanah.Ahem!Mr.Ellery,I trust you're being made comfortable.The parish committee are--hum--ah--anxious that you should be.Yes?
The minister said that he was very comfortable indeed.
It isn't what you've been used to,we know,observed Miss Annabel.Mr.Langley,our former pastor,was a sweet old gentleman,but he was old-fashioned and his tastes were queer,especially in art.Have you noticed that 'fruit piece'in the dining room?Isn't it too ridiculous?Ellery admitted that the fruit piece was rather funny;but no doubt it had been a gift and so--Yes,indeed.I guess it was a present,fast enough.Nobody would buy such a thing.It seems strange to pa and me that,although so many of our people have been abroad,they have such strange ideas of art.Do you remember the beautiful marbles in the palaces at Florence,Mr.Ellery?Of course you've seen them?The minister was obliged to admit that he had never been abroad.
Oh,is that so?I've been so many times with pa that it seems almost as if everybody was as familiar with Yurrup as I am.You remember what I said about the marbles,pa?Her parent nodded.
Hum--ha!Oh,yes,yes,he said.That was when I was in the fruit-carrying trade and made a voyage to Valenchy.Valencia,pa,corrected Annabel.And Valencia is in Spain.I know it.But we went to Leghorn afterwards.I sailed to Cronstadt for some years regular.Cronstadt is in Rooshy,Mr.Ellery.
Russia,pa,snapped his daughter.Then she changed the subject to church and parish affairs.They spoke of the sewing circle and the reading society and the Friday-evening meetings.
The Come-Outers are so vexed with us,tittered Miss Annabel,that they won't even hold prayer meeting on the same night as ours.They have theirs on Thursday nights and it's as good as a play to hear them shout and sing and carry on.You'll enjoy the Come-Outers,Mr.Ellery.They're a perfect delight.And as they rose to go Captain Elkanah asked:
Is there anything you'd like done about the parsonage,Mr.Ellery?If so,it shall be done immejitly.How are you satisfied with your housekeeper?Very well,indeed,Captain Daniels,was the prompt reply.
