mfortable in his life, on shore, as she had made him. She had
heard some cursed ill-natured speeches, and he very well knew that a
more self-respecting woman never lived. But now her moment of
self-assertion seemed to have come, and, to use his own words, she had
him fast. Stop! there was a way of escape.

"Then I _will_ send for the gal. Perhaps you're right, ma'am. I've
slept myself into the doldrums. _Whoo! whoo!_" he said,
loudly--anything to gain a little time. "Anything you say, ma'am," he
protested. "I've got to step down-town on some business," and the
captain fled with ponderous footsteps out through the dining-room to
the little side entry where he hung his hat; then a moment later he
went away, clicking his cane along the narrow sidewalk.

He had escaped that time, and wrote the brief note to his great-niece,
Ann Ball--how familiar the name looked!--with a sense of victory. He
dreaded the next interview with his housekeeper, but she was
business-like and self-possessed, and seemed to be giving him plenty
of time. Then the captain regretted his letter, and felt as if he were
going to be broken up once more in his home comfort. He spoke only
when it was absolutely necessary, and simply nodded his head when
Mrs. French said that she was ready to start as soon as she showed the
young woman about the house. But what favorite dishes were served the
captain in those intervening days! and there was one cool evening
beside, when the housekeeper had the social assistance of a fire in
the Franklin stove. The captain thought that his only safety lay in
sleep, and promptly took that means of saving himself from a dangerous
conversation. He even went to a panorama on Friday night, a diversion
that would usually be quite beneath his dignity. It was difficult to
avoid asking Mrs. French to accompany him, she helped him on with his
coat so pleasantly, but "she'd git her claws on me comin' home
perhaps," mused the self-distrustful mariner, and stoutly went his way
to the panorama alone. It was a very dull show indeed, and he bravely
confessed it, and then was angry at a twinkle in Mrs. French's eyes.
Yet he should miss the good creature, and for the life of him he could
not think lightly of her. "She well knows how able she is to do for
me. Women-folks is cap'ns ashore," sighed the captain as he went
upstairs to bed.

"Women-folks is cap'ns ashore," he repeated, in solemn confidence to
one of his intimate friends, as they s