"Don't do that, my lad. You do make me savage when you won't be plucky. Why, you can swim miles yet, and you shall, as soon as you're rested. I say, how savage the capen will be when he finds he can't ketch us!" "Jem, my lad," said Don, quietly; "don't talk to me as if I were a child. It's very good of you, and kind but but I'm done, Jem I'm done." "You're not!" cried Jem, savagely.
Through a powerful glass, which Captain Lane furnished him, Fernando recognized Captain Snipes standing on the quarter deck, smoking a cigar. Fernando had the guns loaded and shotted. They were sighted and ready when the Xenophon should take the initiative. "Say, Capen, dat Britisher doan git dis chile no more," said Job.
This was presumably "Fanshawe," which may also have been the novel she recollected his writing to her about while at college. A Tale. Boston: Marsh & Capen, 362 Washington St. Press of Putnam and Hunt, 1828. 12mo. The novel is brief, with a melodramatic plot, well-marked scenes, and strongly contrasted character; the style flows on pleasantly; but the book is without distinction.
But it's a mistake. I don't believe it." The pair entered the sick room. The sailor lay in a stupor. His breathing was rapid, but faint. Capen bent over him and gently moved the bandage on his face. For a full minute he gazed steadily. Then he stood erect, drew a big red hand across his forehead, and moved slowly back to the living room. "Well?" asked Ellery eagerly.
The largest of the beach shanties, one which stood by itself a quarter of a mile from the light, was hurriedly prepared for use as a pesthouse and the sick sailor was carried there on an improvised stretcher. Dr. Parker and Ellery lifted him from his berth and, assisted by old Ebenezer Capen, got him up to the deck and lowered him into the dory.
I was sure who he was then, but I called in Ebenezer Capen, who used to know Coffin in New Bedford. And he recognized him. Nat, as sure as you and I are here this minute, Ansel Coffin, Aunt Keziah's husband, is buried in the Trumet cemetery." Mr.
His mother named him, her admiring husband being quite convinced that whatever she did was sure to be exactly the right thing. So, in order to keep up the family tradition and honors "He has a perfect Cabot head. You see it, don't you, John dear" she named him Galusha Cabot Bangs. And then, but three years afterward, she died. John Capen Bangs remained in Boston until his son was nine.
Kitty Collins, with her dress tucked about her so that she looked as if she had on a pair of calico trousers, was washing off the sidewalk. "Arrah you bad boy!" cried Kitty, leaning on the mop handle. "The Capen has jist been askin' for you. He's gone up town, now. It's a nate thing you done with my clothes-line, and, it's me you may thank for gettin' it out of the way before the Capen come down."
The minister, sitting in his chair in the living room, by the cook stove, could hear the steady stream of shouts, oaths, and muttered fragments of dialogue with imaginary persons. Sympathy for the sufferer he felt, of course, and yet he, as well as Dr. Parker and old Capen, had heard enough to realize that the world would be none the worse for losing this particular specimen of humanity.
He heard the rattle of the doctor's chaise and the voices of Ebenezer and Parker in conversation. He did not move, but remained where he was, thinking, thinking. By and by he heard Capen calling his name. "Mr. Ellery!" shouted Ebenezer. "Mr. Ellery, where be you?" "Here!" replied the minister. The old man came scrambling over the sand. He was panting and much excited. "Mr. Ellery!" he cried, "Mr.