was as obstinate as ever. He simply would not consider
immediate marriage. In vain his comrades reminded him of the original
compact, and the fact that the vote was two to one against him; he
announced that he had changed his mind, and that that was all there was
about it.

At length Captain Eri lost patience.

"Jerry," he exclaimed, "you remind me of that old white hen we used
to have. When we didn't want her to set she'd set on anything from a
doorknob to a rock, couldn't keep her off; but when we give in finally
and got a settin' of eggs for her, she wouldn't come nigher to 'em than
the other end of the hen-yard. Now you might as well make up your mind
that somethin's got to be done. This Mrs. Snow ain't nobody's fool. We
put out a bait that anybody with sense would say couldn't catch nothin'
but sculpin, and, by mighty, we hooked a halibut! If the woman was
anything like what you'd think she'd be, answerin' an advertisement like
that, I'd be the fust to say let her go, but she ain't; she's all right,
and we need her to nuss John besides."

"Tell you what we might do," said Perez slowly; "we might explain to her
that Jerry don't feel that 'twould be right to think of marryin' with
Cap'n Baxter so sick in the house and that, if she's willin', we'll put
it off till he dies or gets better. Meantime, we'll pay her so much to
stay here and nuss. Seems to me that's about the only way out of it."

So they agreed to lay this proposal before the Nantucket lady, Captain
Jerry reluctantly consenting. Then Captain Eri took up another subject.

John Baxter, as has been said, had one relative, a granddaughter, living
somewhere near Boston. Captain Eri felt that this granddaughter should
be notified of the old man's illness at once. The difficulty was that
none of them knew the young lady's address.

"Her fust name's Elizabeth, same as her mothers was," said Eri, "and her
dad's name was Preston. They called her Elsie. John used to write to her
every once in a while. P'raps Sam would know where she lived."

"Jest' cause Sam's postmaster," observed Perez, "it don't foller that he
reads the name on every letter that goes out and remembers 'em besides."

"Well, if he don't," said Captain Jerry decidedly, "Mary Emma does. She
reads everything, postals and all."

Miss Mary Emma Cahoon was the assistant at the post-office, and was
possessed of a well-developed curiosity concerning other people's
correspondence.

"Humph!" excla