"Yes," she answered, surprised at the sudden question. "He's just gone
up to the store to buy a shirt and some things. He got himself
splashed trying to push his boat off last night."

"Well, then," said Captain Eli, "would you mind tellin' him when he
comes back that you and me's engaged to be married? I don't know
whether I've made a mistake in the lights or not, but would you mind
tellin' him that?"

Mrs. Trimmer looked at him. Her eyes were not so soft as they had
been, but they were brighter. "I'd rather you'd tell him that
yourself," said she.

The little girl sat on the floor near the Christmas tree, just
finishing a large piece of red-and-white candy which she had taken out
of her stocking. "People do hug a lot at Christmas-time," said she to
herself. Then she drew out a piece of blue-and-white candy and began
on that.

Captain Cephas waited a long time for his friend to return, and at last
he thought it would be well to go and look for him. When he entered
the house he found Mrs. Trimmer sitting on the sofa in the parlor, with
Captain Eli on one side of her and her brother on the other, and each
of them holding one of her hands.

"It looks as if I was in port, don't it?" said Captain Eli to his
astonished friend. "Well, here I am, and here's my fust mate,"
inclining his head toward Mrs. Trimmer. "And she's in port too, safe
and sound. And that strange captain on the other side of her, he's her
brother Bob, who's been away for years and years, and is just home from
Madagascar."

"Singapore," amended Brother Bob.

Captain Cephas looked from one to the other of the three occupants of
the sofa, but made no immediate remark. Presently a smile of genial
maliciousness stole over his face, and he asked, "How about the poor
little gal? Have you sent her back to Mrs. Crumley's?"

The little girl came out from behind the Christmas tree, her stocking,
now but half filled, in her hand. "Here I am," she said. "Don't you
want to give me a Christmas hug, Captain Cephas? You and me's the only
ones that hasn't had any."

The Christmas dinner was as truly and perfectly a sailor-cooked meal as
ever was served on board a ship or off it. Captain Cephas had said
that, and when he had so spoken there was no need of further words.

It was nearly dark that afternoon, and they were all sitting around the
kitchen fire, the three seafaring men smoking, and Mrs. Trimmer greatly
enjoying it. There could be no o