don't have faith, Andy," he said
reproachfully. "Folks do do things, a good many times--things that they
say they will. You o't to have faith."

Andrew snuffed. "When I pin my faith to a thing, Willum, I like to hev
suthin' to stick the pin into," he said scornfully.

They worked in silence. Seagulls dipped about them. Off shore the
sea-lions bobbed their thick, flabby black heads inquiringly in the
water and climbed clumsily over the kelp-covered rocks.

Andrew's eyes rested impassively on their gambols. "Wuthless critters,"
he said.

Uncle William's face softened as he watched them. "I kind o' like to
see 'em, Andy--up and down and bobbin' and sloppin' and scramblin'; you
never know _where_ they'll come up next."

"Don't need to," grumbled Andy. "Can't eat the blamed things--nor wear
'em. I tell you, Willum,"--he turned a gloomy eye on his companion,--"I
tell you, you set too much store by wuthless things."

"Mebbe I do," said William, humbly.

"This one, now--this painter fellow." Andrew gave a wave of his hand
that condensed scorn. "What'd you get out o' him, a-gabblin' and sailin'
all summer?"

"I dunno, Andy, as I could jest put into words," said William,
thoughtfully, "what I _did_ get out o' him."

"Ump! I guess you couldn't--nor anybody else. When he sends you anything
for that boat o' yourn, you jest let me know it, will you?"

"Why, yes, Andy, I'll let you know if you want me to. I'll be reel
pleased to let you know," said Uncle William.

VI

It was Indian summer. Uncle William was mending his chimney. He had
built a platform to work on. Another man would have clung to the sloping
roof while he laid the bricks and spread the mortar. But Uncle William
had constructed an elaborate platform with plenty of room for bricks and
the pail of mortar, and space in which to stretch his great legs. It was
a comfortable place to sit and look out over Arichat harbor. Andy,
who had watched the preparations with scornful eye, had suggested an
arm-chair and cushion.

"I like to be comf'tabul," assented Uncle William. "I know I do. I don't
like to work none too well, anyhow. Might as well be comf'tabul if you
can."

The platform was comfortable. Even Andy admitted that, when Uncle
William persuaded him to climb up one day, on the pretext of advising
whether the row of bricks below the roof line would hold. It was a
clear, warm day, with little clouds floating lightly, as in summer. Andy
had climbed the