wildered. "But why do you want to
get up in the night?" she asked.

"Night!" he repeated. "What ye talkin' abaout? It's jest the hahnsomest
time o' the hull day. I git up to go to the pound, o' course."

"The pound?" Sylvia stared in wonder. "Do you lose cows every day?"

"Cows! What ye talkin' abaout?"

"Why, you said pound. That's for lost cows and dogs, isn't it?"

Cap'n Lem stared a moment, and then cackled merrily.

"So 'tis, some places," he answered. "Geewhitaker! I must tell Lucil
that!" His eyes disappeared. When he could open them again he went on:
"I never give a thought to that afore. My pound's a net aout in the
fishin' ground; an' I go an' haul it every mornin'."

"Oh, may I go with you some time?" asked Sylvia eagerly.

"Sure ye kin." Cap'n Lem slapped his leg and burst forth again. "Haw,
haw, haw, Sylvy. Mebbe we'll find some lost sea cows and dogfish caught
out there. No knowin'. Well, anyway, I'm glad to see sech a change come
over a gal in a few weeks as there has over you. Yes, indeed, you'll be
gittin' up in the mornin' some day. It beats all how folks kin stay in
bed. I've took garden sass to the Derwents' to Hawk Island, and I've
found 'em eatin' breakfast at half past eight. Why, it's jest as easy
fer us to git up as 'tis for the cawtage folks to lay."

"Do you mean to say that everybody would get up here if it weren't for
me?" asked Sylvia disconcerted.

"Wall, Thinkright's allers done his chores afore he sits down with yer;
but Lucil, she's kind o' cawtage folks-y in her feelin's. When my woman
was alive I allers did git my own breakfast anyway, and let her lay as
long as she wanted, and so I do Lucil. Jes' as like as not she lays
till half past five o'clock."

"Well, probably it's because you go to bed so early that it's easy for
you."

"No, I don't," replied Cap'n Lem promptly. "Lots o' times when I've had
a real wearin' day I feel like settin' up to rest in the evenin'. Time
an' ag'in I hain't shet my eyes afore nine o'clock."

Sylvia's small teeth gleamed in her prettiest smile. After all, what
was the difference between dining at seven and retiring at eleven, and
supping at five o'clock, as they always did at the Mill Farm, and
retiring at nine?

"Well, I think it's my duty to make you and my cousin Thinkright more
lazy," she said.

The old man shook his head. "I don't cal'late to call myself lazy
s'long's I don't git one o' these here motor boats fer fishin'. Let a
man