o do was to throw down their
handkerchers to a woman, and, no matter who, she'd spring and run to
pick it up. It is always 'Who will I marry?' and not 'Who will marry
me?'"

"Why, there is twice the number of widders that there is of widderers
here at the P'int. That was what was in my mind," said Captain Ben, in a
tone of meek apology. "There is the Widow Keens, she that was Azubah
Muchmore. I don't know but what she would do; Lyddy used to think every
thing of her, and she is a first-rate of a housekeeper."

"Perhaps so," assented Mrs. Davids, dubiously. "But she is troubled a
sight with the head complaint; I suppose you know she is. That is
against her."

"Yes," assented Miss Tame. "The Muchmores all have weak heads. And, too,
the Widow Keens, she's had a fall lately. She was up in a chair cleaning
her top buttery shelf, and somehow one of the chair-leg's give way,--it
was loose or something, I expect,--and down she went her whole heft.
She keeps about, but she goes with two staves."

"I want to know if that is so," said Captain Ben, his honest soul
warming with sudden sympathy. "The widder has seen a sight of trouble."

"Yes, she has lived through a good deal, that woman has. I couldn't live
through so much, 'pears to me; but we don't know what we can live
through," rejoined Miss Tame.

Captain Ben did not reply, but his ready feet began to move to and fro
restlessly; for his heart, more ready yet, had already gone out toward
the unfortunate widow.

"It is so bad for a woman to be alone," said he to himself, shambling
along the shingly beach a moment after. "Nobody to mend her chairs or
split up her kindlings, or do a chore for her; and she lame into the
bargain. It is _too_ bad."

"He has steered straight for the Widow Keens's, as sure as A is
apple-dumpling," remarked Miss Persis, peering after him from the
window.

"Well, I must admit I wouldn't have thought of Captain Ben's being
en-a-mored after such a sickly piece of business. But men never know
what they want. Won't you just hand me that gum-cam-phyer bottle, now
you are up? It is on that chest of drawers behind you."

"No more they don't," returned Miss Tame, with a plaintive cadence,
taking a sniff from the camphor-bottle on the way. "However, I don't
begrutch him to her,--I don't know as I do. It will make her a good hum,
though, if she concludes to make arrangements."

Meantime, Captain Ben Lundy's head was wellnigh to Mrs. Keens's door,
fo