“I presume I am,” he said, dryly, taking the book and doing as he was bidden.  “Now, you, Raymond,” passing it on to the captain, “we’ll take it for granted that you are next in age and importance.”

“That’s right, captain,” laughed Betty, as he silently took the book and wrote his name, “it wouldn’t be at all polite to seem to think yourself younger than any lady present.”

“Of course not, Miss Betty; will you take your turn next?”

“Of course not, sir; do you mean to insinuate that I am older than Aunt Rose?” she asked, passing the book on to Mrs. Dinsmore.

“Don’t be too particular about going according to ages,” said Mrs. Mack, “it takes up too much time.”

“You may write my name for me, Ned,” said Zoe, when he took the book.

“Yes, write your sister’s name for her; it’ll do just as well,” said Mrs. Mack.

“But I’m not his sister,” said Zoe.

“What, then? is he your lover?”

“No,” Edward said, laughing, “we’re husband and wife.”

“You’ve begun young,” she remarked, taking the book and passing it on; “don’t look as if you’d cut your wisdom teeth yet, either of you.  When the ladies have all registered, some of you grown folks had better do it for the children.”

Having seen all their names duly inscribed in her register, “Seat yourselves,” she said, waving her hand toward some benches and chairs.

Then, with the help of a half-grown girl, she set out a small circular table, placed a box upon it, pushed up chairs and a bench or two, and said, “Now, as many of you as can, come and sit round this table; the others shall have their turn afterward.”

When all the places were filled, she opened the box and took from it a number of beautifully carved articles—­napkin-rings, spoons, etc.

“Now, all take your turns in looking at this lovely carved work, while I tell you its story,” she said, “the story of how it came into my possession.”

“You see, my husband was a sea-captain, and upon one occasion, when he was about setting sail for a long voyage, a young man, or lad—­he was hardly old enough to be called a man—­came and asked to be taken as one of the crew.  He gave a name, but it wasn’t his true name, inherited from his father, as my husband afterward discovered.  But not suspecting anything wrong, he engaged the lad, and took him with him on the voyage.

“And the lad behaved well aboard the ship, and he used to carve wonderfully well—­as you may see by looking at these articles—­just with a jack-knife, and finally—­keeping at it in his leisure moments—­he made all these articles, carving them out of sharks’ teeth.

“You can see he must have had genius; hadn’t he? and yet he’d run away from home to go to sea, as my husband afterward had good reason to believe.”

She made a long story of it, spinning out her yarn until the first set had examined the carved work to their satisfaction.