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Updated: May 8, 2025
I took one of those little pine chairs and sat down, when I got tired, and looked at the people coming to worship, and the strangers with their guide-books." "Did any of them look at you?" "They stared a good deal. It seems to be the custom in Europe; but I told Captain Jenness I should probably have to go about by myself in Venice, as my aunt's an invalid, and I had better get used to it."
Our commander, Colonel Moore, always brave and able; and our captains, Henry Lindsay, and Edgar Barker, and George Jenness, and David Payne, with the shrewd, courageous scout, Allison Pliley, and the undaunted, clear-thinking, young lieutenant, Frank Stahl.
Jenness was born in Deerfield, New Hampshire, July 14, 1806, received a good academical education and in 1823 removed from Deerfield to Strafford, in the same State, where he engaged in merchandizing, continuing in that occupation for thirty years, and finding it reasonably remunerative.
"Captain Jenness," he merely said, "understands making people at home." "Oh, yes, indeed," assented Lydia. "And Mr. Watterson is very agreeable, and Mr. Mason. I didn't suppose sailors were so. What soft, mild voices they have!" "That's the speech of most of the Down East coast people." "Is it? I like it better than our voices. Our voices are so sharp and high, at home."
You'll be treated well till we get there, and then if I find you on my vessel five minutes after she comes to anchor, I'll heave you overboard, and I'll take care that nobody jumps after you. Do you hear? And you won't find me doing any such fool kindness as I did when I took you on board, soon again." "Oh, I say, Captain Jenness," began Staniford. "He's all right," interrupted Hicks.
I don't mean any pay; I want you to go back as my guests. You can use the cabin for your parlor; and I promise you I won't take any other passengers this time. I declare," said Captain Jenness, lowering his voice, and now referring to Hicks for the first time since the day of his escapade, "I did feel dreadful about that fellow!" "Oh, never mind," replied Staniford.
"I am glad you like them," replied Hicks, with sullen apprehension of the offensive tone. Staniford turned to Lydia. "I suppose that in South Bradfield your Sabbath is over at sundown on Sunday evening." "That used to be the custom," answered the girl. "I've heard my grandfather tell of it." "Oh, yes," interposed Captain Jenness. "They used to keep Saturday night down our way, too.
Already everything was changed. There was bustle and discomfort; it seemed years since he had been there. Captain Jenness was ashore somewhere; it was the second mate who told Staniford of her uncle's coming. "What sort of person was he?" he asked vaguely. "Oh, well! Dum an Englishman, any way," said Mason, in a tone of easy, sociable explanation.
Well, we won't wait," and with but little change of tone asked a blessing; for Captain Jenness in his way was a religious man.
Lady Harberton, in 1885, was at the head of an organized movement in London to introduce the bifurcated skirt; Mrs. Jenness Miller, in this country, is making an entire revolution in every garment that belongs to a woman's toilet; and common-sense shoemakers have vouchsafed to us, at last, a low, square heel to our boots and a broad sole in which the five toes can spread themselves at pleasure.
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