ind, Uncle Jed, I shall call
this one 'Ruth,' that's Mamma's name, you know. The other one you
made me was named for Petunia, and we wouldn't want to name 'em ALL
for her. It might make her too--too-- Oh, what ARE those things
you make, Uncle Jed? In the shop, I mean."

"Eh? Windmills?"

"No. The others--those you tell the wind with. I know--vanes. It
might make Petunia too vain. That's what Mamma said I mustn't be
when I had my new coat, the one with the fur, you know."

She trotted off. Jed busied himself with the chowder. A few
minutes later a voice behind him said: "Hi, there!" He turned to
see a broad-shouldered stranger, evidently a carpenter or workman
of some sort, standing at the top of the sand dune and looking down
at him with marked interest.

"Hi, there!" repeated the stranger.

Jed nodded; his attention was centered on the chowder. "How d'ye
do?" he observed, politely. "Nice day, ain't it? . . . Hum. . . .
About five minutes more."

The workman strode down the bank.

"Say," he demanded, "have you seen anything of a plan?"

"Eh? . . . Hum. . . . Two plates and two spoons . . . and two
tumblers. . . ."

"Hey! Wake up! Have you seen anything of a plan, I ask you?"

"Eh? . . . A plan? . . . No, I guess not. . . . No, I ain't. . . .
What is it?"

"What IS it? How do you know you ain't seen it if you don't know
what it is?"

"Eh? . . . I don't, I guess likely."

"Say, you're a queer duck, it strikes me. What are you up to?
What are you doin' here, anyway?"

Jed took the cover from the kettle and stirred the fragrant,
bubbling mass with a long-handled spoon.

"About done," he mused, slowly. "Just . . . about . . . done.
Give her two minutes more for luck and then. . . ."

But his visitor was becoming impatient. "Are you deaf or are you
tryin' to get my goat?" he demanded. "Because if you are you're
pretty close to doin' it, I'll tell you that. You answer when I
speak to you; understand? What are you doin' here?"

His tone was so loud and emphatic that even Mr. Winslow could not
help but hear and understand. He looked up, vaguely troubled.

"I--I hope you'll excuse me, Mister," he stammered. "I'm afraid I
haven't been payin' attention the way I'd ought to. You see, I'm
makin' a chowder here and it's just about got to the place where
you can't--"

"Look here, you," began his questioner, but he was interrupted in
his turn. Over the edge of the bank came a