tle persuasive counsel.

So the chilling weeks of autumn passed at Fairport, and now the first
snow was ushering in November's dreary rule. A strong landward breeze
was rolling the waves one after another as in a merry chase towards the
shore, while the Fairport Guard were gathered on the wharf, valiantly
fighting a battle with snowballs. The appearance of a ship entering the
harbor soon called the attention of the combatants away from the
"charge, rally, and charge again," in which they had just been engaged.
Men muffled in greatcoats came out of the neighboring stores and
offices, and shivered in the cold wind as they bent their eyes on the
stranger ship, for so at once they pronounced her.

"British build and rigging, but the right colors flying. She knows the
channel. See, she makes it as well as if she had Joe Robertson himself
on board. There now, don't she come up the harbor as if this was her
home, and she knew just where she was going to cast anchor?"

Remarks like these dropped from the lips of the eager watchers:

"I shouldn't wonder if it was our captain coming from foreign parts,"
said a small member of the Fairport Guard. "He's took that ship as
likely as not, and is coming home in her."

"Pshaw, child," burst from several listeners.

"I wish we did know where that boy is," said another speaker. "He's a
credit to this place, that's certain."

"He's an honor to America," said Hal Hutchings, who was now allowed to
give his views on all occasions. Hal's face was bent forward, and his
eye was fixed on a slender lad who was anxiously looking towards the
shore. "It's him, it's him; it's Blair, I tell you. It's him," shouted
Hal, throwing his cap in the air, and giving three leaps that would have
astounded a catamount.

Hal Hutchings fought his way to the privilege of being the first to
grasp Blair's hand, as he stepped ashore; then there was a perfect rush
of hands and a cheer from young and old that Derry Duck said was the
pleasantest music that ever he heard.

"Where is she? Where's my mother, Hal?" said Blair as soon as he could
speak.

"Hearty, hearty, and just like an angel as she always was," said Hal
vociferously. The boy's joy seemed to have made him almost beside
himself. "She don't know you're here, she don't. I'll be off to tell
her."

"No, Hal, no. I'll be there in a minute myself," said Blair, moving off
at a marvellous pace for a boy who had been wounded so lately.

The Fairport Guar