by her first name now, although in this there was nothing unusual--after
a few weeks' acquaintance we Bayporters almost invariably address people
by their "front" names. Sometimes she came to the house with Emily. Then
the three sat by the stove in the sitting room, and the apartment became
really cheerful, in the captain's eyes.

Phoebe was in good spirits. She was as hopeful as Captain Cy was
despondent. She seemed to have little fear of the outcome of the
legal proceedings, the appeals and the rest. In fact, she now appeared
desirous of evading the subject, and there was about her an air of
suppressed excitement. Her optimism was the best sort of bracer for the
captain's failing courage. Her advice was always good, and a talk with
her left him with shoulders squared, mentally, and almost happy.

One cold, rainy afternoon, early in February, she came in with Bos'n,
who had availed herself of the shelter of the teacher's umbrella.
Georgianna was in the kitchen baking, and Emily had been promised a
"saucer pie"--so the child went out to superintend the construction of
that treat.

"Set down, teacher," said Captain Cy, pushing forward a rocker. "My!
but I'm glad to see you. 'Twas bluer'n a whetstone 'round here to-day.
What's the news--anything?"

"Why, no," replied Phoebe, accepting the rocker and throwing open her
wet jacket; "there's no news in particular. But I wanted to ask if you
had seen the Breeze?"

"Um--hum," was the listless answer. "I presume likely you mean the news
about the appropriation, and the editorial dig at yours truly? Yes, I've
seen it. They don't bother me much. I've got more important things on my
mind just now."

Congressman Atkins's pledge in his farewell speech, concerning the
mighty effort he was to make toward securing the appropriation for
Bayport harbor, was in process of fulfillment--so he had written to
the local paper. But, alas! the mighty effort was likely to prove
unavailing. In spite of the Honorable Heman's battle for his
constituents' rights it seemed certain that the bill would not provide
the thirty thousand dollars for Bayport; at least, not this year's bill.
Other and more powerful interests would win out and, instead, another
section of the coast be improved at the public expense. The congressman
was deeply sorry, almost broken-hearted. He had battled hard for his
beloved town, he had worked night and day. But, to be perfectly frank,
there was little or no hope.

F