the town office
the next morning, and scowled on him. Mr. Tate wore a little black
hat cocked on his shaggy mane, and his thin nose was blue in the crisp
air of early May. He sat on the steps propping a big portfolio on
his knees. His thin legs outlined themselves against his baggy
trousers with the effect of broomsticks under cloth.

He arose and followed the sturdy old seaman into the office. He sat
down, still clinging to the portfolio, and watched the Cap'n build
a fire in the rusty stove. The selectman had returned no answer to
the feeble attempts that Mr. Tate had made to open conversation.

"Far asunder your life aims and my life aims have been, Cap'n Sproul,"
observed the secretary at last. "But when ships hail each other out
of the darkness--"

"Three-stickers don't usually luff very long when they're hailed by
punts," grunted the old skipper.

"There is a common ground on which all may meet," insisted Mr. Tate;
"I frequently inaugurate profitable conversations and lay the
foundations of new friendships this way: Who are your favorite
poets?"

"Say, now, look here!" blurted the Cap'n, coming away from the stove
and dusting his hard hands together; "you've been rammed into my
throat, and I'm havin' pretty blamed hard work to swallow you. I may
be able to do it if you don't daub on portry. Now, if you've got any
idea what you're here for and what you're goin' to do, you get at
it. Do you know?"

"I had ventured upon a little plan," said Mr. Tate, meekly. "I thought
that first of all I would arrange the literary programme for the day,
the oration, the poem, the various addresses, and I already have a
little schedule to submit to you. I have a particular request to make,
Cap'n Sproul. I wish that you, as chairman of the committee, would
designate me as poet-laureate of the grand occasion."

"You can be any kind of a pote you want to," said the selectman,
promptly. "And I'll tell you right here and now, I don't give a
continental thunderation about your programmy or your speech-makers--not
even if you go dig up old Dan'l Webster and set him on the stand. I
didn't start this thing, and I ain't approvin' of it. I'm simply
grabbin' in on it so that I can make sure that the fools of this town
won't hook into that money with both hands and strew it galley-west.
That's me! Now, if you've got business, then 'tend to it! And I'll be
'tendin' to mine!"

It was not an encouraging prospect for a secretary who desir