The captain brought home a book or two daily, and left them in his room, seeing which, his self-denying hostess carried up the two flights of stairs her own copies of “Clarke’s Commentaries,” “The Saints’ Best,” “Joy’s Exercises,” and “Morning and Night Watches,” and arranged them neatly on his table.

Finally, after a few days, Captain Sam seemed to have something to say—­something which his usual power of speech was scarcely equal to.  Mrs. Simmons gave him every opportunity.

At last, when he ejaculated, “Mrs. Simmons,” just as she was carrying her beloved glass preserve-dish to its place in the parlor-closet, she was so excited that she dropped the brittle treasure, and uttered not a moan over the fragments.

“Mrs. Simmons, I’ve made up my mind to lead an entirely new life,” said the captain, gravely.

“It’s what I’ve been hopin’ fur years an’ years, cap’en,” responded the happy old lady.

“Hev you, though?  God bless your motherly old soul,” said the captain, warmly.  “Well, I’ve turned over a new leaf, and it don’t git turned back again.”

“That’s right,” said Mrs. Simmons, with a happy tear under each spectacle-glass.  “Fight the good fight, cap’en.”

“Just my little game,” continued the captain. “’Tain’t ev’ry day that a man ken find an angel willin’ to look out fur him, Mrs. Simmons.”

“An angel!  Oh, cap’en, how richly blessed you hev been!” sobbed Mrs. Simmons.  “Many’s the one that hez prayed all their lives long for the comin’ of a good sperrit to guide ’em.”

“Well, I’ve got one, sure pop,” continued Captain Sam; “and happy ain’t any kind of a name fur what I be all the time now.”

“Bless you!” said the good woman, wringing the captain’s hand fervidly.  “But you’ll hev times of trouble an’ doubt, off an’ on.”

“Is that so?” asked the captain, thoughtfully.

“Yes,” continued Mrs. Simmons; “but don’t be afeard; ev’ry thing’ll come right in the end.  I know—­I’ve been through it all.”

“That’s so,” said the captain, “you hev that.  Well, now, would you mind interdoosin’ me to your minister?”

“Mind!” said the good old lady.  “I’ve been a-dyin’ to do it ever since you come.  I’ve told him about it, and he’s ez glad fur you ez I am.”

“Oh!” said the captain, looking a little confused, “you suspected it, did you?”

“From the very minute you fust kem,” replied Mrs. Simmons; “I know the signs.”

“Well,” said the captain, “might ez well see him fust as last then, I reckon.”

“I’ll get ready right away,” said Mrs. Simmons.  And away she hurried, leaving the captain greatly puzzled.

The old lady put on her newest bombazine dress—­all this happened ten years ago, ladies—­and a hat to match.

Never before had these articles of dress been seen by the irreligious light of a weekday; the day seemed fully as holy as an ordinary Sabbath.