regretted that he could no longer follow the sea, and, in
spite of many alleviations, grumbled at his hard fate. He might have
been condemned to an inland town, but in reality his house was within
sight of tide-water, and he found plenty of companionship in the
decayed seaport where he had been born and bred. There were several
retired shipmasters who closely approached his own rank and dignity.
They all gave other excuses than that of old age and infirmity for
being out of business, took a sober satisfaction in their eleven
o'clock bitters, and discussed the shipping list of the morning paper
with far more interest than the political or general news of the other
columns.

While Captain Asaph Ball was away on his long voyages he had left his
house in charge of an elder sister, who was joint owner. She was a
grim old person, very stern in matters of sectarian opinion, and the
captain recognized in his heart of hearts that she alone was his
superior officer. He endeavored to placate her with generous offerings
of tea and camel's-hair scarfs and East Indian sweetmeats, not to
speak of unnecessary and sometimes very beautiful china for the
parties that she never gave, and handsome dress patterns with which
she scorned to decorate her sinful shape of clay. She pinched herself
to the verge of want in order to send large sums of money to the
missionaries, but she saved the captain's money for him against the
time when his willful lavishness and improvidence might find him a
poor man. She was always looking forward to the days when he would be
aged and forlorn, that burly seafaring brother of hers. She loved to
remind him of his latter end, and in writing her long letters that
were to reach him in foreign ports, she told little of the
neighborhood news and results of voyages, but bewailed, in page after
page, his sad condition of impenitence and the shortness of time. The
captain would rather have faced a mutinous crew any day than his
sister's solemn statements of this sort, but he loyally read them
through with heavy sighs, and worked himself into his best broadcloth
suit, at least once while he lay in port, to go to church on Sunday,
out of good New England habit and respect to her opinions. It was not
his sister's principles but her phrases that the captain failed to
comprehend. Sometimes when he returned to his ship he took pains to
write a letter to dear sister Ann, and to casually mention the fact of
his attendance upon