es
had worked out well, his subordinates were of one mind with him, trade
was flourishing. He felt he could afford a little spin.

Jimsy's radiating fancies focussed themselves, at last, on the vision of
a trig little sail-boat, "a jug of wine, a loaf of bread" in the cabin,
with possibly the book of verses underneath the bow, or more suitably, in
the shadow of the sail; and Aleck Van Camp and himself astir in the
rigging or plunging together from the gunwale for an early swim. "And
before I get off, I'll hear a singer that can sing," he declared.

He telegraphed Aleck, who was by this time running down the eyelid of the
squid, to meet him at his club in New York. Then he made short work with
the family. Experience had taught him that an attack from ambush was
most successful.

"Look here, Edith,"--this was at the breakfast-table the very morning of
his departure. Edith was sixteen, the tallest girl in the academy,
almost ready for college and reckoned quite a queen in her world--"You be
good and do my chores for me while I'm away, and I'll bring you home a
duke. Take care of mother's bronchitis, and keep the house straight.
I'm going on a cruise."

"All right, Jim"--Edith could always be counted on to catch the ball--"go
ahead and have a bully time and don't drown yourself. I'll drive the
team straight to water, mother and dad and the whole outfit, trust me!"

Considering the occasion and the correctness of the sentiments, Jim
forbore, for once, from making the daily suggestion that she chasten her
language. By the time the family appeared, Jim had laid out a rigid
course of action for Miss Edith, who rose to the occasion like a soldier.

"Mother'll miss you, of course, but Jack and Harold"--two of Edith's
admirers--"Jack and Harold can come around every day--stout arm to lean
upon, that sort of thing. You know mother can't be a bit jolly without
plenty of men about, and since Sue became engaged she really doesn't
count. The boys will think _they_ are running things, of course, but
they'll see my iron hand in the velvet glove--you can throw a blue chip
on that, Jimsy. And don't kiss me, Jim, for Dorothy Snell and I vowed,
when we wished each other's rings on--Oh, well, brothers don't count."

And so, amid the farewells of a tender, protesting family, he got off,
leaving Edith in the midst of one of her monologues.

There was a telegram in New York saying that Aleck Van Camp would join
him in three da