id it might be account of some money business. She was
over to the light just now askin' for Cap'n Jeth, and he's the one her
dad, Cap'n Jim Phipps, used to talk such things with. They went into a
good many trades together, them too.... But there, 'tain't any of your
affairs, is it, Mr. Bangs--and 'tain't any of Primmie's and my business,
so we'd better shut up. Don't say nothin' to Martha about it, Mr. Bangs,
if you'd just as soon. But course you wouldn't anyhow."

This was a tremendously long speech for Mr. Bloomer. He sighed at its
end, as if from exhaustion; then he crossed his legs again. Galusha
hastened to assure him that he would keep silent. Primmie, however, had
more to say.

"Why, Zach Bloomer," she declared, "you know that wan't only part of
what you and me was sayin'. That wan't what I wanted to ask Mr. Bangs.
YOU said if 'twas money matters or business Miss Martha went to see
Cap'n Jeth about you cal'lated the cap'n would be cruisin' up to Boston
to see a medium pretty soon."

"The old man's Speritu'list," exclaimed Zach. "Always goes to one of
them Speritu'list mediums for sailin' orders."

"Now you let me tell it, Zach. Well, then _I_ said I wondered if you
wan't a kind of medium, Mr. Bangs. And Zach, he--"

Galusha interrupted this time.

"_I_--a medium!" he gasped. "Well, really, I--ah--oh, dear! Dear me!"

"AIN'T you a kind of medium, Mr. Bangs?"

"Certainly not."

"Well, I thought undertakin' was your trade till Miss Martha put her
foot down on the notion and shut me right up. You AIN'T an undertaker,
be you?"

"An undertaker?... Dear me, Primmie, you--ah--well, you surprise me.
Just why did you think me an undertaker, may I ask?"

"Why, you see, 'cause--'cause--well, you was talkin' yesterday about
interestin' remains and--and all this forenoon you was over in the
cemetery and said you had such a good time there and... and I couldn't
see why anybody, unless he was an undertaker, or--or a medium maybe,
would call bein' around with dead folks havin' a good time... Quit your
laughin', Zach Bloomer; you didn't know what Mr. Bangs' trade was any
more'n I did."

Mr. Bloomer cleared his throat. "Mr. Bangs," he observed sadly, "didn't
I tell you she'd make a ship out of a shingle? If you'd puffed smoke,
and whistled once in a while, she'd have cal'lated you must be a
tugboat."

Galusha smiled.

"I am an archaeologist," he said. "I think I told you that, Primmie."

Primmie looked blank. "