stage, "stop them 'nothin's'
and 'somethin's,' won't you? You keep whirlin' 'em round and over and
over till my head's FULL of 'nothin',' and--"
"That's what it's full of most of the time," interrupted Asaph tartly.
Captain Cy hastened to act as peacemaker.
"Never mind, Bailey," he said; "you let Ase alone. Tell us what you did
find out, Ase, and cut out the trimmin's."
"Well," continued Mr. Tidditt, with a glare at Bangs, "I asked Seth
about the Thayers and the Richards folks the very fust night I struck
Orham. He remembered 'em, of course; he can remember Adam, if you let
him tell it. He told me a whole mess about old man Thayer and old man
Richards and their granddads and grandmarms, and what houses they lived
in, and how many hens they kept, and what their dog's name was, and how
they come to name him that, and enough more to fill a hogshead. 'Twas
ten o'clock afore he got out of Genesis, and down so fur as John and
Emily. He remembered their bein' married, and their baby--Mary Thayer,
Bos'n's ma--bein' born.
"Folks used to call John Thayer a smart young feller, so Seth said. They
used to cal'late that he'd rise high in the seafarin' and ship-ownin'
line. Maybe he would, only he died somewheres in Californy 'long in '54
or thereabouts. 'Twas the time of the gold craziness out there, and he
left his ship and went gold huntin'. And the next thing they knew he was
dead and buried."
"When was that?" inquired the schoolmistress.
"In '54, I tell you. So Seth says."
"What ship was he on?" asked Bailey.
"Wan't on any ship. Why don't you listen, instead of settin' there
moonin'? He was gold diggin', I tell you."
"He'd BEEN on a ship, hadn't he? What was the name of her?"
"I didn't ask. What diff'rence does that make?"
"Wasn't Mr. Atkins at sea in those days?" put in the teacher. The
captain answered her.
"Yes, he was," he said. "That is, I think he was. He was away from here
when I skipped out, and he didn't get back till '61 or thereabouts."
"Well, anyhow," went on Asaph, "that's all I could find out. Seth and me
went rummagin' through town records from way back to glory, him gassin'
away and stringin' along about this old settler and that, till I 'most
wished he'd choke himself with the dust he was raisin'. We found John's
grandad's will, and Emily's dad's will, and John's own will, and that's
all. John left everything he had and all he might become possessed of
to his wife and baby and their h
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