down his dejection and discouragement, set
himself resolutely to work once more on the novel, and his nautical
adviser was called in for frequent consultation. The story, however,
progressed but slowly. There was something lacking. Each knew what that
something was, but neither named it.

One evening Pearson entered the room tenanted by his friend to find the
latter seated beside the table, his shoes partially unlaced, and a pair
of big slippers ready for putting on.

"Captain," said the visitor, "you look so comfortable I hate to disturb
you."

Captain Elisha, red-faced and panting, desisted from the unlacing and
straightened in his chair.

"Whew!" he puffed. "Jim, your remarks prove that your experience of the
world ain't as big as it ought to be. When you get to my age and waist
measure you'll realize that stoopin' over and comfort don't go together.
I hope to be comfortable pretty soon; but I sha'n't be till them boots
are off. Set down. The agony'll be over in a minute."

Pearson declined to sit. "Not yet," he said. "And you let those shoes
alone, until you hear what I've got to say. A newspaper friend of mine
has sent me two tickets for the opera to-night. I want you to go with
me."

Captain Elisha was surprised.

"To the opera?" he repeated. "Why, that's a--a sort of singin' theater
ain't it?"

"Yes, you're fond of music; you told me so. And Aida is beautiful. Come
on! it will do us both good."

"Hum! Well, I don't know."

"I do. Get ready."

The captain looked at his caller's evening clothes.

"What do you mean by gettin' ready?" he asked. "You've got on your
regimentals, open front and all. My uniform is the huntin' case kind;
fits in better with church sociables and South Denboro no'theasters.
If I wore one of those vests like yours Abbie'd make me put on a red
flannel lung-protector to keep from catchin' pneumonia. And she'd think
'twas sinful waste besides, runnin' the risk of sp'ilin' a clean biled
shirt so quick. Won't I look like an undertaker, sittin' alongside of
you?"

"Not a bit. If it will ease your mind I'll change to a business suit."

"I don't care. You know how I feel; we had a little talk about hats a
spell ago, you remember. If you're willin' to take me 'just as I am,
without a plea,' as the hymn-tune says, why, I cal'late I'll say yes and
go. Set down and wait while I get on my ceremonials."

He retired to the curtain alcove, and Pearson heard him rustling about,
evidently