the minister, "that I
went there for what seemed to me good reasons, and, as they did seem to
me good at the time, I'm not ashamed of having gone. It was an honest
mistake on my part and I may make more."

"But the society--" began Elkanah. Captain Zeb interrupted him.

"Don't worry about the society, Mr. Ellery," he said with emphasis. "Nor
about the parish committee, either. Great fishhooks! the most of us are
tickled to death over what you said to Eben Hammond. We think it's a
mighty good joke. YOU didn't know, of course, and what you did was done
innocent. He! he! he! Did you lay him out, hey?"

"Zebedee," began Captain Daniels, "I must say I can't see anything to
laugh at."

"You never could, Elkanah. I remember that time when you and me and some
of the fellers home from sea went out sailin' and the boom knocked you
overboard with your Sunday clothes on. Lordy, how the rest of us did
holler! but you never cracked a smile. If you'd seen yourself when we
hauled you in! whiskers runnin' salt water; beaver hat lookin' like a
drownded kitten--"

"There! There! Never mind that. I think you'll find a good many of the
society feel as I do, shocked and--hum--ha!--sorry. I'm surprised they
haven't been here to say so."

"I expected them," remarked the minister.

"So did I," chimed in Captain Zeb. "But I cal'late to know why they
ain't been. They're all too busy crowin' over the way Nat Hammond
fetched the packet home last night. WHAT? You ain't heard? Great
fishhooks! it's the best thing ever--"

"I've heard about it," snapped Elkanah impatiently. "Mr. Ellery, I'm
glad you realize that your action was a mistake and I will take pains to
have that immejitly made plain to--"

"YOU ain't heard, Keziah, have you?" broke in Zebedee. "Nor you, Mr.
Ellery? Well, I must tell you. Here's where I gain a lap on Didama
Rogers. Seems the Deborah S.--that's the packet's name, Mr. Ellery--she
hauled out of Boston night afore last on the ebb, with a fair wind and
sky clear as a bell. But they hadn't much more'n got outside of Minot's
'fore the fog shut down, thicker'n gruel for a sick rich man. The wind
held till 'long toward mornin'; then she flattened to a dead calm. 'Bije
Perry, the mate, he spun the yarn to me, and he said 'twas thick and
flat as ever he see and kept gettin' no better fast.

"They drifted along till noon time and then they was somewheres out in
the bay, but that's about all you could say. Zach, he was stewin'