Here, invention failing, Mr. Sparrow called for assistance.

“Hey, Perce,” he hailed, addressing his companion, Mr. Percy Clark, who was busy setting type:  “What’s a good word to use here?  I say Marcellus was respected both as a man—­and somethin’ else.”

“Hey?” queried Percy, absently, scanning the eight point case.  “What d’ye say?”

“I asked you what would be a good thing to go with ’man’?”

“Hey?  I don’t know.  Woman, I guess.”

“Aw, cut it out.  Never mind, I got it: 

“—­As a man and a citizen.  Captain Hall was fifty-nine years of age at the time of his demise.  He was born in South Harniss and followed the sea until 1871, when he founded the firm of Hall and Company, which was for some years the leading dealer in fresh and salt fish in this section of the state.  When the firm—­

“I say, Perce!  ’Twouldn’t do to say Marcellus failed in business, would it?  Might seem like hintin’ at that stuff about his sister and the rest of it.  Might get us into trouble, eh?”

“Humph!  I don’t know who with.  Everybody’s talkin’ about it, anyway.  Up to the boardin’ house they’ve been talking about mighty little else ever since he died.”

“I know, but talk’s one thing and print’s another.  I’m goin’ to leave it out.

“When the firm went out of business in 1879, Captain Hall followed the sea again, commanding the ships Faraway, Fair Wind, and Treasure Seeker, and the bark Apollo.  Later he retired from the sea and has not been active in the same or otherwise since.  In 1894 he married Augusta Bangs Lathrop, widow of the late Reverend Charles Lathrop, formerly pastor of the Congregational Church in this town.  Captain Hall had been residing in his native town, South Harniss, but after his marriage he took up his residence in Ostable, purchasing the residence formerly owned by Elnathan Phinney on Phinney’s Hill, where he lived until his lamented demise.  Mrs. Hall passed away in 1896.  The sudden removal of Captain Hall from our midst leaves a stepdaughter, Mary Augusta Lathrop, aged seven.  The—­”

Here Mr. Sparrow’s train of thought collided with the obstruction which was derailing many similar trains in Ostable and South Harniss.

“I say, Perce,” he observed “what’s goin’ to become of that kid of Marcellus’s—­his wife’s, I mean?  Marcellus didn’t have any relations, as far as anybody knows, and neither did his wife.  Who’s goin’ to take care of Mary-’Gusta?”

Percy shook his head.  “Don’t know,” he answered.  “That’s what all hands are askin’.  I presume likely she’ll be looked after.  Marcellus left plenty of money, didn’t he?  And kids with money can generally find guardians.”

“Yup, I guess that’s so.  Still, whoever gets her will have their hands full.  She’s the most old-fashioned, queerest young-one ever I saw.”

So much for Mr. Sparrow and his fellow laborer for the Enterprise.  Now to listen for a moment to Judge Baxter, who led the legal profession of Ostable; and to Mrs. Baxter who, so common report affirmed, led the Judge.  The pair were upstairs in the Baxter house, dressing for the funeral.