e of anything more, ran
away to the Captain, who was busy building, a dozen at a time, paper
packet ships, and launching them upon the table for a sea.

In the very midst of the mirthful hubbub old Sylvester called Robert and
William to his side, and was heard to whisper, "Bring 'em in." William
and Robert were gone a moment and returned, bearing under heavy
head-way, tumbling and pitching on one side constantly, two ancient
spinning wheels, Mopsey following with snowy flocks of wool and spinning
sticks. Old Sylvester arose, and delivering a stick and flock to Mrs.
Carrack and Mrs. Jane Peabody, requested them, in a mild voice and as a
matter of course already settled, "to begin." A spinning-match!

"Yes, anything you choose to-night, father."

Rolling back their sleeves, adjusting their gowns, the wheels being
planted on either side of the fireplace, Mrs. Jane and Mrs. Carrack,
stick in hand, seized each on her allotment of wool, and sent the wheels
whirling. It was a cheerful sight to see the two matrons closing in upon
the wheel, retiring, closing in again--whose wheel is swiftest, whose
thread truest? Now Mrs. Jane--now Mrs. Carrack. If either, Mrs. Carrack
puts the most heart in her work.

"_Now_ she looks like my Nancy," said old Sylvester in a glow, "as when
she used to spin and sing, in the old upper chamber."

Away they go--whose wheel is swiftest, whose thread the truest now?

While swift and free the contest wages, the parlor-door standing open,
and beyond that the door of the sitting-room, look down the long
perspective! Do you not see in the twilight of the kitchen fire a dark
head, lighting up, as in flashes, with a glittering row of teeth, with a
violent agitation of the body, with gusty ha-ha's, and fragments of an
uproarious chant flying through the door something to this effect--

Oh, de fine ladies, how dey do spin--spin--spin,
Like de gals long ago--long ago!
I bet to'der one don't win--win--win,
Kase de diamond-flowers on her fingers grow.
Lay down your white gloves, take up de wool,
Round about de whirly wheel go;
Back'ard and for'ard nimble feet pull,
Like de nice gals long--long ago!

Silence follows, in which nothing is observable from that quarter more
than a great pair of white eyes rolling about in the partial darkness.
Who was other than pleased that in spite of Mopsey's decision, old
Sylvester determined that if either, Mrs.