t to go a-fishin' Sunday?' says she. 'No,
marm,' says I, 'not big fish, but little treouts?' says I; 'won't you
jest think it over, marm?' says I. And while she was thinkin' I kind
o' shied and sidled off, an' got away outer the ship's channel."

"Wal, thar' neow," said Captain Leezur, beaming with fond sympathy at
the heavens, "sech folks dew help to parss away the time, amazin'."

"'S I sums it up," said the impassively listening collector, "ef ye
don't pass away some o' yer time on yer roads down here, ye'll break
some o' yer d--d necks."

Renewed unresentful laughter from the group.

"Grarsshoppers, neow," said Captain Leezur, seriously and reflectively,
"makes better treoutin' bait 'n angle-worms (I know 't we don't have no
sech grarsshoppers nor angle-worms neither as they dew in Californy).

"Nason was over t'other day, helpin' me shingle my barn. 'Twas a
dreadful warm day, and we was takin' our noonin' arfter dinner, settin'
thar' on the log, 'nd there was a lot o' these 'ere little green
grarsshoppers hoppin' areound in the grarss: so arfter a spall, we
speared up some on 'em and----"

"'S I sums it up, ef ye want to stay here and ketch the last fish 't
God ever made, 'ste'd o' bracin' up and mendin' yer roads and takin'
yer part in a shyer town, ye must do so."

"Sho!" said Captain Leezur, regarding him with wistful compassion; "I
hain't seen as fish was gittin' skeerce."

By winks and insinuations of niggardliness, through Captain Rafe,
father of Fluke, he was moved to take a nervine lozenge out of his
pocket and display it temptingly before the sapient, immovable
countenance of the collector. The latter, cold pipe in mouth, solemnly
shook his head.

"They _dew_ come kind o' high, I know," said Captain Leezur, "but I'm
all'as willin' to sheer 'em with a friend. I ain't one o' that kind
that's all'as peerin' anxiously into the futur'."

"The furderest time 't I ever looked into the futur'," said Captain Dan
Kirtland, "was once when I was a boy 'bout nineteen, and my father told
me not to take the colt out. He was a stallion colt (I know 't we
don't have no sech colts here as they do in Californy), jest three
years and two months old, and sperrited--oh, no; I guess he wa'n't
sperrited none! Wal, my father was gone one day, and I tackled him up
and off I went. Might 'a' fetched up all right, but 't happened jest
as I was passin' by them smoke-houses to Herrinport, some boys 't was
playin' wit