wn business."

The Captain laughed aloud. Then, turning to Mr. Hamilton, he said: "Say,
Zoeth, Isaiah'll be a little mite surprised when he sees this craft make
port, eh?"

Zoeth smiled. "I shouldn't wonder," he replied.

"Um-hm. I'd like to have a tintype of Isaiah's face. Well, sis--er,
Mary-'Gusta, I mean--there's South Harniss dead ahead. How do you like
the looks of it?"

They had emerged from a long stretch of woods and were at the summit of
a little hill. From the crest of this hill the road wound down past an
old cemetery with gray, moss-covered slate tombstones, over a bridge
between a creek and a good-sized pond, on through a clump of pines,
where it joined the main highway along the south shore of the Cape. This
highway, in turn, wound and twisted--there are few straight roads
on Cape Cod--between other and lower hills until it became a village
street, the main street of South Harniss. The sun was low in the west
and its light bathed the clustered roofs in a warm glow, touched
windows and vanes with fire, and twinkled and glittered on the waters
of Nantucket Sound, which filled the whole southern horizon. There was
little breeze and the smoke from the chimneys rose almost straight. So,
too, did the smoke from the distant tugs and steamers. There were two or
three schooners far out, and nearer shore, a sailboat. A pretty picture,
one which artists have painted and summer visitors enthused over many
times.

To Mary-'Gusta it was new and wonderful. The child was in a mood to like
almost anything just then. Mrs. Hobbs was miles away and the memory of
the music chair and her own disgrace and shame were but memories. She
drew a long breath and looked and looked.

"Like it, do you?" asked Zoeth, echoing his friend's question.

Mary-'Gusta nodded. "Yes, sir," she said. "It--it's lovely."

Captain Shadrach nodded. "Best town on earth, if I do say it," he said,
emphatically. "So you think it's lovely, eh?"

"Yes, sir." Then, pointing, she asked: "Is that your house?"

The Captain grinned. "Well, no, not exactly," he said. "That's the town
hall. Nobody lives there but the selectmen and they ain't permanent
boarders--that is, I have hopes some of 'em 'll move after town-meetin'
day. Our house is over yonder, down nigh the shore."

The old horse pricked up his ears at sight of home and the buggy moved
faster. It rolled through the main street, where the Captain and
Mr. Hamilton were kept busy answering hails