I declar'! a dog
couldn't spell that; it looks like Snyder spelled by his hired
man--against Cnidus--the--wind--not--snuffers--no, snuffering (here
Rhoda executed the double sniffle)--yes, didn't I say snuffering? I mean
suffering--suffering--us--we--sailed--under--I can't spell that nohow;
nobody kin!"

"'Sailed under Crete,' dear," assisted Vesta.

"Sailed under--Crety--over--against--Sal--Sal--Salm--oh, yes, psalms!
No: Sal Money."

"Salmone," explained the rector, not daring to look up; "we sailed under
Crete over against Salmone; and, hardly passing it, came unto a place
which is called the Fair Havens, nigh whereunto was the city of Lasea.'"

"Lord sakes!" exclaimed Rhoda, putting out her crescent foot, on which
was Vesta's worked stocking, "did they have Fair Havens in them days?
Was it this one over yer on the Wes'n Shu?"

"No," answered Tilghman; "Fair Havens was always a ready name for
sailors finding a good port in trouble."

"Thar ain't no good port out thar on the Oushin side now but Monroe's
Inlet, outen Jinkotig. The rest of 'em gits filled up, an' kadgin's the
on'y way to kadge through of 'em, Misc Somers says."

"She means warping, or pulling over a shoal inlet by a rope to an
anchor, as the water lifts the vessel."

"Yes, you know, Mr. Tilghman," Rhoda cried, delighted; "that's
kadgin'--pullin' over the bar by the anchor line. You're all agroun',
can't git nowhar, air a-bumpin' on the bar, an' the breakers is comin'
dreadful in your side: you'll break all up if you stay thar. So you git
the little anchor--the little one is better than ary too big a one--an'
put it in the yawl an' paddle acrost the bar an' sot her, an' them
aboard pulls as the billers lifts ye, and so they keep her headed in,
and, kadging, kadging, bumpety-bump, at las' you go clar of the bar an'
come home to smooth haven in Sinepuxin."

"Yes, my sisters," appended the young minister, "we need often to kedge
home, to warp over the bars of life, and Hope, in ever so little an
anchor, helps a little, if we do not lose the line. Little hopes are
often better than great ones, for o'er-great hopes swamp little vessels.
Even hope must be artfully shaped and skilfully dropped to take hold of
the unseen bottoms of opportunity. All of us have entertained burdensome
hopes, heavy anchors, and they would not hold us against the breakers;
but there may be little hopes, carried in advance of us, that will draw
us into pleasant sounds and