character; and his ship-mates gathered about him, each giving him a warm
shake of the hand and a friendly word. Then the good ship moved
gallantly down the stream, and Tite appeared on the forecastle, and
waved adieus until she disappeared among the green hills of the
Palisades.

There was a heart that fluttered, and a hand that waved signals, from a
point on the shore recognized by Tite, and responded to, but not seen by
the little sorrowing group waiting the return of the boat. It was
Mattie's heart that fluttered, and it was her hand that waved the last
adieu as the ship passed out of sight. There she stood, a touching
picture of truth and love, shedding her tears and waving a last farewell
to the object of her heart, and whom she might never see again.

Such are the transmutations of commerce that it would be a curious sight
at this day to see a whaleship, under full sail, proceeding up or down
the Hudson river. It was no uncommon sight then. The enterprising people
of Hudson shared the whale-fishery business with New Bedford and
Nantucket; their fleet of ships were fitted out in the very best manner,
and some of the most famous whaling captains sailed from that port.

CHAPTER X.

MR. AND MRS. CHAPMAN DISAGREE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

A bright light burned in Chapman's parlor that night, and the ponderous
Mrs. Chapman sat nursing her dignity in a great new rocking-chair. Her
little pale-faced husband, with keen eyes, and his hair somewhat longer
than usual, sat beside the lamp on the round table pouring over a book.
There was an air of improvement about the parlor, an evidence, indeed,
that the Chapmans had renounced their Dogtown habits, and were bent on
getting up in the world. New carpets, new mirrors, new furniture, and
window-curtains such as had not been seen in Nyack before, had been got
from New York. You must make your style of living, Mrs. Chapman said,
keep pace with the progress of the family. And it would not do to let
those new, rich, and stylish people who were coming up from New York get
ahead of you in the way of elegance.

Mrs. Chapman no longer condescended to prepare the sausage meat and
pumpkin pies; in a word, to do the work of her own kitchen. She could
afford, she said, to keep two "helps," a cook and a chambermaid, to take
it easy and put on the lady, and to give evening parties that quite
outdid in the way of nice little suppers anything their neighbors could
give. There was, howe