on the right course," Marble
answered. "Do you know, Miles, that they call paying off one of your heavy
loads on land, '_lifting_ the mortgage;' and a lift it is, I can tell you,
when a man has no money to do it with. The true way to get out of debt is
to 'arn money; I've found that much out since I found my mother; and, the
cash in hand, all you have to do is to hand it over. Old Van Tassel was
civil enough when he saw the bag of dollars, and was full of fine
speeches. He didn't wish to distress the 'worthy Mrs. Wetmore, not he; and
she was welcome to keep the money as long as she pleased, provided the
interest was punctually paid;' but I'd have none of his soft words, and
laid down the Spaniards, and told him to count them. I 'lifted his
encumbrance,' as they call'd it, as easily as if it had been a pillow of
fresh feathers, and walked off with that bit of paper in my hands, with
the names tore off it, and satisfaction give me, as my lawyer said. This
law is droll business, Miles; if money is paid, they give you
satisfaction, just as gentlemen call on each other, you know, when a
little cross. But, whatever you do, never put your hand and seal to a
mortgage; for land under such a curse is as likely to slide one way as the
other. Clawbonny is an older place than Willow Cove, even; and both are
too venerable and venerated to be mortgaged."

The advice came too late. Clawbonny _was_ mortgaged already, and I confess
to several new and violent twinges, as I recalled the fact, while Marble
was telling his story. Still I could not liken my kinsman, plain-talking,
warm-hearted, family-loving, John Wallingford, to such a griping usurer as
Mrs. Wetmore's persecutor.

I was glad to see my mate on every account. He relieved me from a great
deal of irksome duty, and took charge of the ship, bringing his mother and
Kitty; that very day, to live in the cabin. I could perceive that the old
woman was greatly surprised at the neatness she found in all directions.
According to her notions, a ship floated nearly as much in tar as in the
water; and great was her pleasure in finding rooms _almost_ (conscience
will not allow me to say quite) as clean as her own residence. For one
whole day she desired to see no more than the ship, though it was easy to
discover that the good woman had set her heart on the Dutch church and the
lion. In due time her son redeemed all his pledges, not forgetting the
theatre. With the last, good Mrs. Wetmore wa