turves, and Arch'laus listening. The boys were waiting for their
supper, and for Mrs. Geen to come back from her Saturday's shopping.
Happening to look up as he turned a page, Phoby saw, on the steps which
led down into the room, a brisk, stout little gentleman, dressed in a
long, cutaway coat, black velvet waistcoat and breeches, black ribbed
stockings, and pump shoes tied with a bow. He twinkled with brass or
gilt buttons--one row down the coat and two rows down the waistcoat--and
each button was stamped with a pattern of flowers. His head was bald,
except for a bit of hair at the back; he had no hat; and when he turned,
after closing the door behind him, Phoby took notice that his belly was
round and as tight as a drum. The boy denied being frightened;
"the gentleman," he said, "was most pleasant-looking in all his
features. I didn't take 'en for a sperat, but for somebody come to see
mother. I stood up and said, 'Good eveling, sir. Mother'll be back in
a minute or two if you'll take a seat.'" "I'm not come for she, but
for thee," he said; "Deiphobus Geen, idle no longer. Arise, take my
advice, and go a-smuggling." And with that he vanished through the
door.

The boy pitched this tale to his mother, and Arch'laus backed him up,
adding that the ghost had turned to him and said, "Thou, too, Arch'laus
in a year's time shall be a smuggler--p'r'aps sooner." He told this to
his father and got strapped for it. But Mrs. Geen came of a family that
believed in ghosts. The boy's tale described his grandfather to a
hair--which was not wonderful considering how often she had talked to
Phoby about the old man. At any rate, after being in two minds for a
week she gave way, after a fashion, and allowed Phoby to run over to
Prussia Cove to his aunt, Bessie Bussow; and Bessie--who loved spirit--
had him apprenticed to Hosking, the Cove carpenter. Pretty carpenter's
work Hosking was likely to teach him!

Now, after the way of women, the deed was no sooner done than Mrs. Geen
began to repent it. She knew very well that her dear boy would run into
danger; but she kept her trouble to herself until there arrived at
Ardevora a new Methodist preacher called Meakin. In those days John
Wesley himself used to pay us a visit pretty well every August or
September, but this year, for some reason or other, he gave us an extra
revival, and sent down this Meakin to us at the beginning of June.
For a very good reason he was never s