e in."

And we felt that Gadabout would be of the same way of thinking. Indeed,
could we not hear her joining in as we talked, and good naturedly
grumbling that if we couldn't have that kind of fogs, why then we ought
to get close in shore among the crabs and the sand-fiddlers, where the
big boats could not come; or else go into a quiet little creek with a
sleepy little houseboat.

But by this time no one was listening to Gadabout. Any further fussy
complaining of this little craft was drowned by the Commodore reading
aloud. He had bethought him of a book containing some chapters on
Brandon that we had got from the manor-house. And reading made us
hungry; and there were two apple tarts on the upper shelf of the
refrigerator (for had not the cook provided them "in case an' you
should wish 'em befo' you retiah"?); and by the time the tarts were
gone, so was the fog; and the steamer headed again for Richmond and we
for Dreamland.

CHAPTER XIII

OLD SILVER, OLD PAPERS, AND AN OLD COURT GOWN

Toward the last of our stay in Chippoak Creek, the weather was bad; but
it was surprising how agreeable disagreeable days could be at Brandon.
It was dark and gloomy that afternoon when we got to looking at the old
family silver, and even raining dismally by the time we were carefully
unfolding the faded court gown; but on we went from treasure to
treasure oblivious of the weather.

Fine and quaint pieces of old silver are among the family plate. Many
of them bear the Harrison crest--a demi-lion rampant supporting a
laurel wreath. And who would know what the weather was doing, when
those ancient pieces were passing from hand to hand, and the
fascinating study of hall marks was revealing dates more than two
centuries past? There is even some ecclesiastical silver in the old
home--the communion service once used in the Martin's Brandon Church, a
building no longer standing. The inscription tells that the service was
the gift of Major John Westhrope, and the marks give date of about
1659.

But no one form of the antique can hold you long at Brandon. From out
some drawer or chest or closet, another treasure will appear and lure
you away with another story of the long ago. With the inimitable sheen
of old silver still in our eyes, our ears caught the crackle of ancient
parchment; and we turned to the fascinations of venerable records and
dingy red seals and queer blue tax stamps. The papers were delightfully
quaint and yell