ch. The eye of every inmate of the perfect boarding house was on
him. Even the "hired help" peered from the kitchen door.
"He's a stranger," whispered Mrs. Tripp. "I never see him before, did
you, Mr. Tidditt?"
The town clerk did not answer. He was staring at the depot wagon's
passenger, staring with a face the interested expression of which was
changing to that of surprise and amazed incredulity. Mrs. Tripp turned
to Mr. Bangs; he also was staring, open-mouthed.
"Godfrey scissors!" gasped Asaph, under his breath. "Godfrey--SCISSORS!
Bailey, I--I believe--I swan to man, I believe--"
"Ase Tidditt!" exclaimed Mr. Bangs, "am I goin' looney, or is that--is
that--"
Neither finished his sentence. There are times when language seems so
pitifully inadequate.
CHAPTER II
THE WANDERER'S RETURN
Here in Bayport, nowadays, the collecting of "antiques" is a favorite
amusement of our summer visitors. Those of us who were fortunate enough
to possess a set of nicked blue dishes, a warming pan, or a tall clock
with wooden wheels, have long ago parted with these treasures for
considerable sums. Oddly enough Sylvanus Cahoon has profited most by
this craze. Sylvanus used to be judged the unluckiest man in town; of
late this judgment has been revised.
It was Sylvanus who, confined to the house by an illness brought on by
eating too much "sugar cake" at a free sociable given by the Methodist
Society, arose in the night and drank copiously of what he supposed to
be the medicine left by the doctor. It happened to be water-bug poison,
and Sylvanus was nearly killed by the dose. He is reported as having
admitted that he "didn't mind dyin' so much, but hated to die such a dum
mean death."
While convalescent he took to smoking in bed and was burned out of
house and home in consequence. Then it was that his kind-hearted fellow
citizens donated, for the furnishing of his new residence, all the
cast-off bits of furniture and odds and ends from their garrets.
"Charity," observed Captain Josiah Dimick at the time, "begins at home
with us Bayporters, and it generally begins up attic, that bein' nighest
to heaven."
Later Sylvanus sold most of the donations as "antiques" and made money
enough therefrom to buy a new plush parlor set. Miss Angeline Phinney
never called on the Cahoons after that without making her appearance at
the front door. "I'll get some good out of that plush sofy I helped to
pay for," declared Angeline, "i
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