for a wonder, and did not appear to be so cross and ugly as he generally
was when recovering from his debauches. Neither of them said much, and
Bobtail wondered what had happened. After supper he went out and split
up the wood for the fire, and did other chores.

"What can be done about it?" he heard Ezekiel say, as he paused at the
door, after he had done his work.

"I don't know's anything can be done," replied Mrs. Taylor, gloomily.

Then there was a silence, and Bobtail went in.

"What's the matter, mother?" asked he, now satisfied that some calamity
impended.

"I'm afraid we shall lose the house, Robert," replied Mrs. Taylor.

"Lose the house? How can you lose it?"

"You know there's a mortgage upon it for five hundred dollars. Squire
Gilfilian wants the money, and says he must sell the place if it isn't
paid. He has been threatening to do it for a good while, and to-day he
has foreclosed the mortgage."

"I've been all over town to get somebody else to take the mortgage,"
added Ezekiel, "but I can't find nobody. The place is wuth a thousand
dollars of any man's money; but business is dull, and money's hard, and
I don't believe 'twill bring more'n the mortgage under the hammer. I
don't know what I'm goin' to do about it. I don't see's I can help
myself."

Probably just then Ezekiel Taylor reproached himself for his idle and
dissolute life, and realized that, if he had been industrious, and had
saved his money, he might have owned the place with no encumbrance at
the present time. It was about sunset, and Mrs. Taylor and her son
seated themselves on the front doorstep to talk over the impending
calamity.

"What vessel is that?" asked Mrs. Taylor, as a cloud of white canvas
emerged from behind Negro Island.

"It's a yacht!" exclaimed Bobtail. "There's a _P_ in her burgee. It's
the Penobscot, of Belfast. She belongs to Colonel Montague. I saw her go
down the other day. She's the finest yacht in these waters. I must go
and see her."

Little Bobtail suddenly forgot all about the mortgage and the
prospective loss of the cottage as he gazed upon the white sails and the
beautiful hull of the Penobscot. She was a magnificent yacht, of about a
hundred tons. She had created a decided sensation in the bay, and our
young skipper had heard glowing accounts of her, which made him anxious
to see her with his own eyes. Her crew were hauling down her
gaff-topsails and her jib-topsail, and it was evident that she inten