always pitying herself.

"I tell them," said she, "I have had real hard luck. My husband is
buried away off in California, and my son died in the army, and he is
buried away down South. Neither one of them is buried together."

Then she sighed again. Twice, this time.

"And so," she continued, taking out a pinch of bayberry snuff, "I am
left alone in the world. _Alone_, I say! why, I've got a daughter, but
she is away out West. She is married to an engineer-man. And I've got
two grandchildren."

Mrs. Davids took the pinch of bayberry and shook her head, looking as
though that was the "hardest luck" of all.

"Well, everybody has to have their pesters, and you'll have to take
yours," rejoined Miss Persis Tame, taking a pinch of snuff--the real
Maccaboy--twice as large, with twice as fierce an action. "I don't know
what it is to bury children, nor to lose a husband; I s'pose I don't;
but I know what it is to be jammed round the world and not have a ruff
to stick my head under. I wish I had all the money I ever spent
travelling,--and _that's_ twelve dollars," she continued, regretfully.

"Why in the world don't you marry and have a home of your own," sighed
Mrs. Davids.

"Well, I don't _expect_ to marry. I don't know as I do at my time of
life," responded the spinster. "I rather guess my day for chances is
gone by."

"You ain't such a dreadful sight older than I am, though," replied Mrs.
Davids, reflectively.

"Not so old by two full years," returned Miss Tame, taking another smart
pinch of snuff, as though it touched the empty spot in her heart and did
it good. "But _you_ ain't looking out for opportunities yet, I suppose."

Mrs. Davids sighed, evasively. "We can't tell what is before us. There
is more than one man in want of a wife."

As though to point her words, Captain Ben Lundy came in sight on the
beach, his head a long way forward and his shambling feet trying in vain
to keep up.

"Thirteen months and a half since Lyddy was buried," continued Mrs.
Davids, accepting this application to her words, "and there is Captain
Ben taking up with just what housekeeper he can get, and _no_
housekeeper at all. It would be an excellent home for you, Persis.
Captain Ben always had the name of making a kind husband."

She sighed again, whether from regret for the bereaved man, or for the
multitude of women bereft of such a husband.

By this time Captain Ben's head was at the door.

"Morning!" said he, while his