"No, we haven't unearthed any more of that sort. And, as for this mystery of ours, I'll give you the answer--if it's worth giving at all, in a very short time. Meanwhile, you go home and forget it.""Well, I'll try. But I guess it sticks out on my face, like a four days' toothache. But I WON'T worry about that. You know best whether to tell me now or not, and--well, I'm carryin' about all the worry my tonnage'll stand, as 'tis."He drew a long breath. Sylvester regarded him sympathetically.
"You mustn't take your nephew's and niece's treatment too much to heart," he said.
"Oh, I don't. That is, I pretend I don't. And I do try not to.
But I keep thinkin', thinkin', and wonderin' if 'twould have been better if I hadn't gone there to live at all. Hi hum! a man of my age hadn't ought to mind what a twenty-year-old girl says, or does;'specially when her kind, advisin' friends have shown her how she's been deceived and hypocrit-ted. By the way, speakin' of hypocrites, I suppose there's just as much 'Dunnin'' as ever goin' on up there?""Yes. A little more, if anything, I'm afraid. Your niece and Mrs.
Dunn and her precious son are together now so constantly that people are expecting--well, you know what they expect.""I can guess. I hope they'll be disapp'inted.""So do I, but I must confess I'm fearful. Malcolm himself isn't so wise, but his mother is--""A whole Book of Proverbs, hey? I know. She's an able old frigate.
I did think I had her guns spiked, but she turned 'em on me unexpected. I thought I had her and her boy in a clove hitch. Iknew somethin' that I was sartin sure they wouldn't want Caroline to know, and she and Malcolm knew I knew it. Her tellin' Caroline of it, HER story of it, when I wasn't there to contradict, was as smart a piece of maneuverin' as ever was. It took the wind out of my sails, because, though I'm just as right as I ever was, Caroline wouldn't listen to me, nor believe me, now.""She'll learn by experience."
"Yup. But learnin' by experience is a good deal like shippin'
green afore the mast; it'll make an able seaman of you, if it don't kill you fust. When I was a boy there was a man in our town name of Nickerson Cummin's. He was mate of a ship and smart as a red pepper poultice on a skinned heel. He was a great churchgoer when he was ashore and always preachin' brotherly love and kindness and pattin' us little shavers on the head, and so on. Most of the grown folks thought he was a sort of saint, and I thought he was more than that. I'd have worshiped him, I cal'late, if my Methodist trainin' would have allowed me to worship anybody who wa'n't named in Scriptur'. If there'd been an apostle or a prophet christened Nickerson I'd have fell on my knees to this Cummin's man, sure. So, when I went to sea as a cabin boy, a tow-headed snub-nosed little chap of fourteen, I was as happy as a clam at highwater 'cause I was goin' in the ship he was mate of."He paused. There was a frown on his face, and his lower jaw was thrust forward grimly.
