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We met the whaler 'Isabella' in Fisher's Strait, and the 'Abbott Lawrence' near Charles Island, and from both got some later news, but no letters from either. We learned from them that the 'Abby Bradford' had gone in already, and must have passed us in Fisher's Strait the day before we met the 'Isabella', in a thick fog that prevailed.
But, curiously enough, her personal ire against Ellen vanished. At the afternoon recess she gave Ellen the sound half of an old red Baldwin apple which she had brought for luncheon, and watched her bite into it, which Ellen did readily, for she was not a child to cherish enmity, with an odd triumph. "The other half ain't fit to eat, it's all wormy," said Abby Atkins, flinging it away as she spoke.
Abby eyed it shrewdly. "If I am not mistaken," said she, "that is the very carriage Eudora herself was wheeled around in when she was a baby. I am almost sure I have seen that identical carriage before. When we were girls I used to go to the Yates house sometimes.
"It is quite unlikely she has," I replied; "do stay here; besides, what if she has?" "I will go," she answered. Away she went, and as it appeared, Abby and she were the only members of the class ready for recitation. Abby had been more successful than the rest of us, and kindly helped my friend to scale the difficulties of the lesson.
Her father was of New Jersey, and his conscience, while no one would venture to say that it was defective, did not in the least interfere with his enjoyment of life. "Oh, well, Abby," her father would reply, easily, when her mother expressed her distress that she was unable to work as she had done, "we shall manage somehow. Don't worry, Abby."
"I don't like it," declared Aunt Abby. "I hate it I'm absolutely disgusted with the whole performance! I detest practical jokes!" "Oh, come now, Miss Ames," and Hendricks chuckled; "this isn't exactly a joke it's a hoax, and a new one, but it's a legitimate game.
She drew herself up haughtily, and clenching her hands on the back of a chair, as she stood facing Stone, she said, "If you have come here to browbeat me to discuss my personal characteristics, you may go! I've no intention of being brought to book by a detective!" "Why, Eunice, don't talk that way," begged Aunt Abby. "I'm sure Mr.
Edward Lee, who was a mild, sickly-looking woman and seldom expressed an opinion. "Well, that might have been," agreed Abby, "although Eudora always had the name of having a beautiful disposition." "I have always found," said Mrs. Joseph Glynn, with an air of wisdom, "that it is the beautiful dispositions which are the most set the minute they get a start the wrong way.
"But old, you know, and when he is too much drunk it take away his mind; so then I help him, that Le Boss does not find out that and beat him. For he is good, you see, Old Billy, and we make comrades togezzer always." "Dear me!" said Abby, doubtfully. "It don't seem as if you ought to be going with with that kind of person, Maree. We don't associate with drinking men, here in these parts.
Why, Le Boss was a Catholic, he; and everybody knew that he had the evil eye, and that it was not safe to come near him without making the horns. "For the land's sake!" cried Abby Rock, dropping her dish-cloth into the sink, "what are you talking about, child?" "But, the horns!" Marie answered innocently.
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