ay,
or some other perishable material, might suffice for some of their
successors. But let us go back to our chair. It was occupied by Governor
Bradstreet from April, 1689, until May, 1692. Sir William Phips then
arrived in Boston with a new charter from King William and a commission
to be governor."

CHAPTER X. THE SUNKEN TREASURE.

"AND what became of the chair?" inquired Clara, "The outward aspect of
our chair," replied Grandfather, "was now somewhat the worse for its
long and arduous services. It was considered hardly magnificent enough
to be allowed to keep its place in the council chamber of Massachusetts.
In fact, it was banished as an article of useless lumber. But Sir
William Phips happened to see it, and, being much pleased with its
construction, resolved to take the good old chair into his private
mansion. Accordingly, with his own gubernatorial hands, he repaired one
of its arms, which had been slightly damaged."

"Why, Grandfather, here is the very arm!" interrupted Charley, in great
wonderment. "And did Sir William Phips put in these screws with his own
hands? I am sure he did it beautifully! But how came a governor to know
how to mend a chair?"

"I will tell you a story about the early life of Sir William Phips,"
said Grandfather. "You will then perceive that he well knew how to use
his hands."

So Grandfather related the wonderful and true tale of the sunken
treasure.

Picture to yourselves, my dear children, a handsome, old-fashioned
room, with a large, open cupboard at one end, in which is displayed
a magnificent gold cup, with some other splendid articles of gold
and silver plate. In another part of the room, opposite to a tall
looking-glass, stands our beloved chair, newly polished, and adorned
with a gorgeous cushion of crimson velvet tufted with gold.

In the chair sits a man of strong and sturdy frame, whose face has been
roughened by northern tempests and blackened by the burning sun of
the West Indies. He wears an immense periwig, flowing down over his
shoulders. His coat has a wide embroidery of golden foliage; and his
waistcoat, likewise, is all flowered over and bedizened with gold. His
red, rough hands, which have done many a good day's work with the hammer
and adze, are half covered by the delicate lace ruffles at his wrists.
On a table lies his silver-hilted sword; and in a corner of the room
stands his gold-headed cane, made of a beautifully polished West India
wood.

Some