“Like the harbor light on a stormy night.  She’s a brick, that girl, and gets prettier every minute.  Wonder to me some of the young chaps down here don’t carry her off by main strength.  She’ll make somebody a good wife.”

“Um-hm.  Have—­have you ever thought of her that way yourself?”

“Keziah!”

“Well, don’t get mad.  I think a lot of Grace, and I don’t know anyone I’d rather see you marry.”

“I do.  Keziah, that’s enough of that.  Are you and dad in partnership to get me spliced and out of the way?  He was at me this mornin’ along the same line.  Don’t say anything like that again, even in fun.  You know why.”

“All right, all right.  Now tell me about yourself.  Have you had a good voyage?  How do you like your owners?  How did Zach Foster ever get the packet in through yesterday’s fog?”

“Voyage was all right.  Some rugged weather on the trip out, but homeward bound we slid along like a slush bucket on a greased plank.  Owners are all right.  Good people as ever I sailed for.  As for Zach and the packet—­Ho, ho!”

He laughed, rocking back and forth on the chair, which creaked in sympathy.

“What’s the joke?” demanded the housekeeper.  “Don’t do that!  That chair wasn’t made for elephants to use.”

“Hey?  ’Tis pretty weak in the knees, ain’t it?  Dad would say ’twas a piece with the creed of those that owned it.  I—­What’s that?  Somebody’s comin’.  I’m goin’ to clear out.  I don’t want to be put through my catechism yet a while.”

“No, you mustn’t go.  I want you to meet Mr. Ellery.  You sit out on the wash bench by the back door till I get rid of whoever ’tis that’s comin’.  Scoot!”

Nat “scooted,” stopping to snatch up his hat as he ran.  Keziah went into the dining room and admitted Captain Zebedee Mayo, who was panting from the exertion of his walk.

“Whew!” puffed Captain Zeb, mopping his forehead.  “How be you, Keziah?  What?  You ain’t all alone!  Thought you’d have a cabin full of gab machines by this time.  Have they been and gone?”

“No, they haven’t been.  I—­My land, my pie!”

She rushed into the kitchen and snatched the pastry from the oven.  Her new caller followed her.

“So they ain’t been, hey?” he said.  “That’s queer.”

“Elkanah’s here.  He’s in there with the minister now.”

“He is?  Givin’ the young feller Hail Columby, I cal’late.  Well, now, he shan’t.  He, he!  When they told me how the minister passed old hop-and-go-fetch-it what was due him at the chapel last night I riz up and hoorayed till my wife shut the windows.  She said the neighbors all thought I was loony, anyhow, and I needn’t prove it to ’em.  He, he!  But Elkanah ain’t got any funny bone.  He’s as solemn as a stuffed owl, and he’ll—­Well, I’m goin’ to put my oar in.  I’m parish committee, too, I cal’late, and I’ve got somethin’ to say, even if I wa’n’t christened Daniels.  Here goes!”