recess, she again appeared
with a stage bow, Captain Pharo looked blankly at Uncle Coffin.

"Where 's the ba-ar, Coffin?"

"I kind o' suspicion they've giv' it up, Pharo; goin' to have
recitationers 'nstead."

"Curfew _shall_ not ring to-night!" yelled the woman on the stage, with
a leap of several feet perpendicularly.

"By clam!" cried poor Captain Pharo, rising; "I don' know what she is,
but she is goin' to ring, and she 's goin' to ring loud too, by clam!
I come here to see 'Ten Nights in a Ba-ar Room,' I didn't come here t'
see contortioners and recitationers. Give us any more o' yer----"

Here, an onion, thrown from the rear of the room by some sympathetic
partner in Captain Pharo's woes, came whizzing over our heads and just
missed the woman, by good aim; she retreated without the formality of
her usual sweeping bow. The manager began hastily to get together his
stage setting for the play. A table and a bottle were first produced;
Captain Pharo and Uncle Coffin began to nudge each other with choice
anticipation of the advancing drama, when another onion, thrown with
unerring vision, took the bottle and shattered it, with its contents,
upon the stage floor, directly under our faces.

Captain Pharo leaned forward and sniffed; so did Uncle Coffin.

"Water! Coffin, by clam!" said Captain Pharo, rising. "Plackards said
'twas goin' to be a re'listic play--and here, by clam! I've rode
twelve miles over a hubbly road an' waited 'round here all day, jest t'
hear a spear o' female grass screech, an' see a pint bottle o' water
busted! Come along! I'm goin' home."

How futile indeed are the poor effects of the stage compared with the
ever new and varied drama of life itself!

As Miss Pray and I came in sight of her cottage, at this now uncanny
hour of the night, we saw that the house was all alight, and Belle
O'Neill stood in the doorway, loudly and gleefully ringing the
dinner-bell.

"O Miss Pray, there was a dead pig washed ashore to-day, right down on
your clam-bottoms--such a beautiful one!--jest as fat!--and me and
Wesley brought it up and roasted it, and we've been expectin' you, an'
expectin' you, an' tryin' to keep it hot----"

"A dead pig!" hissed Miss Pray. "Do you want to murder us? Do you
want to drown me in the morning and p'ison me at night, Belle O'Neill?
For heaven's sake, have you et any of it?"

The appearance of the dish testified only too plainly that she and
Wesley had dined.