nt of Skipper Tommy's state and standing
temptation: much concerned, as well, as to the outcome.

"Skipper Tommy," Tom Tot asked, and that most properly, "is you got
leave o' the boss's son?"

"Davy?"

"Ay, Davy."

"I is not," the skipper admitted, with becoming candour.

"Is you spoke t' the twins?"

"I is not."

"Then," Tom Tot concluded, "shame on you!"

Skipper Tommy tweaked his nose. "Tom Tot," said he, "you got a wonderful
power for readin'. Don't you go tellin' _me_ you hasn't! I _knows_ you
has."

"Well," Tom Tot admitted, "as you're makin' a p'int of it, I'm fair on
print, but poor on writin'."

"Tom Tot," Skipper Tommy went on, with a wave (I fancy) of uttermost
admiration, "I'll stand by it that you is as good at writin' as print.
That I will," he added, recklessly, "agin the world."

Tom Tot yielded somewhat to this blandishment. He took the proffered
letter. "I isn't denyin', Skipper Tommy," he said, "that I'm able t'
make out your name on this here letter."

"Ecod!" cried Skipper Tommy, throwing up his hands. "I knowed it!"

"I isn't denyin'," Tom Tot repeated, gravely, "that I'm _fair_ on
writin'. Fair, mark you! No more."

"Ay," said the skipper, "but I'm wantin' you t' know that this here
letter was writ by a woman with a wonderful sight o' l'arnin'. I'll
warrant you can read _it_. O' course," in a large, conclusive way, "an
you _can't_----"

"Skipper Tommy," Tom interrupted, quickly, "I isn't _sayin'_ I can't."

"Isn't you?" innocently. "Why, Tom Tot, I was thinkin'----"

"No, zur!" Tom answered with heat. "I isn't!"

"Well, you wouldn't----"

"I will!"

"So be," said the skipper, with a sigh of infinite satisfaction. "I'm
thinkin', somehow," he added, his sweet faith now beautifully radiant (I
am sure), as was his way, "that the Lard is mixed up in this letter.
He's mixed up in 'most all that goes on, an' I'd not be s'prised if He
had a finger in this. 'Now,' says the Lard, 'Skipper Tommy,' says He,
'the mail-boat went t' the trouble o' leavin' you a letter,' says He,
'an'----'"

"Leave the Lard out o' this," Tom Tot broke in.

"Sure, an' why?" Skipper Tom mildly asked.

"You've no call t' drag Un in here," was the sour reply. "You leave Un
alone. You're gettin' too wonderful free an' easy with the Lard God
A'mighty, Thomas Lovejoy. He'll be strikin' you dead in your tracks an
you don't look out."

"Tom Tot," the skipper began, "the Lard an' me is wonderful----"

"Le