one to 'do the worryin', hey?"

"I--I don't know."

"Well, what's your folks goin' to have to eat this mornin'?"

Issy admitted his belief that fried clams were to be the breakfast.

"So? Clams? Is, did you ever read the soap advertisement about not bein'
a clam?"

"I--I don't know's I ever did. No, sir."

"All right; I only called your attention to it as a warnin', that's all.
When anybody eats as many clams as you do there's a fair chance of his
turnin' into one. Now clear out, and don't stay so long at breakfast
that you can't get back in time for dinner. Trot!"

Issy trotted. The depot master seated himself by the door of the ticket
office and fell into a reverie. It was interrupted by the entrance of
Hiram Baker. Captain Hiram was an ex-fishing skipper, fifty-five years
of age, who, with his wife, Sophronia, and their infant son, Hiram Joash
Baker, lived in a small, old-fashioned house at the other end of the
village, near the shore. Captain Hiram, having retired from the sea, got
his living, such as it was, from his string of fish traps, or "weirs."

The depot master hailed the new arrival heartily.

"Hello, there, Hiram!" he cried, rising from his chair. "Glad to see you
once in a while. Ain't goin' to leave us, are you? Not goin' abroad for
your health, or anything of that kind, hey?"

Captain Baker laughed.

"No," he answered. "No further abroad than Hyannis. And I'll be back
from there tonight, if the Lord's willin' and the cars don't get off the
track. Give me a round trip ticket, will you, Sol?"

The depot master retired to the office, returning with the desired
ticket. Captain Hiram counted out the price from a confused mass of
coppers and silver, emptied into his hand from a blackened leather
purse, tied with a string.

"How's Sophrony?" asked the depot master. "Pretty smart, I hope."

"Yup, she's smart. Has to be to keep up with the rest of the
family--'specially the youngest."

He chuckled. His friend laughed in sympathy.

"The youngest is the most important of all, I s'pose," he observed. "How
IS the junior partner of H. Baker and Son?"

"He ain't a silent partner, I'll swear to that. Honest, Sol, I b'lieve
my 'Dusenberry' is the cutest young one outside of a show. I said so
only yesterday to Mr. Hilton, the minister. I did, and I meant it."

"Well, we're all gettin' ready to celebrate his birthday. Ho, ho!"

This was a standard joke and was so recognized and honored. A baby born