wer we made up and Westy and Connie went back to
Skiddyunk with it, while the rest of us were fishing.

"Cannot make afternoon train. Are giving big movie show in car
to-night. Great excitement. Expect to clear thirty dollars. Will
not desert car. Expect us when you see us. Good fishing. Love to
all. We should worry.

"ROY (S. F.)"

When Westy and Connie got back, they had fifty dollars that Mr. Temple
had sent, but we decided we wouldn't use a single cent of it, just so as
to show him that we could look after ourselves. Anyway, we should bother
about fifty dollars, because we had a big string of perch and some
catfish.

It was about the middle of the afternoon when we got the fish cooked
and, believe me, we were good and hungry. After the meal was over, we
were sprawling around in the car before starting to get ready for the
show, when all of a sudden we heard somebody speaking outside, and then
in came a little man with an awful funny face and a funny little cap on.
He wore spectacles way down near the end of his nose and he was smiling
and seemed awful happy, but there was something funny about his eyes. I
guess he wasn't more than about thirty years old, but he looked awful
funny and his eyes were bright and queer like.

He said, "How _do_ you do." And then he started to shake hands with all
of us. He said, "I called twice this morning, but you weren't here. And
now I have found you and I'm delighted, and I suppose you wonder who I
am, eh?" Then he looked all around and put his finger to his lips and
said, very secret like, "My name is Ebenezer Brewster and I'm a poet. I
have written a little poem to thank you boys for the great honor you
have done me, in naming the village after me. Shh! There is opposition.
The public is scandalized. There is likely to be a riot. I am not
appreciated--shh."

"Six or seven people wouldn't make much of a riot," I told him. "If they
start any riot here, we'll put the village in the car and take it away
with us."

"That's a very good idea," he said, "a _very_ good idea. Did you
graduate from a public school?"

I said, "No, I have my ideas made to order; they last longer."

He said, "_Much_ longer, that's my idea exactly. And they fit better.
Would you like to hear the poem?"

"Go ahead, shoot," Westy said.

So then he took a paper out of his pocket and read what was on it, and
this was it:

"There are