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Updated: May 28, 2025
That feller and the Bascom woman? Course I am, but . . . Well, I swan!" For the lightkeeper waited to hear no more. He struck the unsuspecting Joshua with the end of the reins and, with a jump, the old horse started forward. Another moment, and the lighthouse wagon was splashing and rattling through the pouring rain along the road leading to Denboro.
The lightkeeper stared at him, and he returned the stare. "Gosh!" repeated Seth, after an instant of silence. "Jiminy crimps! I feel better." The stranger's smile broadened. "Glad to hear it, I'm sure," he said, slowly. "So do I, though there's still room for improvement. What was your particular ailment? Mine seems to have been water on the brain."
He rushed over to the stall in the rear of the shop, woke Joshua from the sweet slumber of old age, and led him to the halter beside the forge. The lightkeeper, being out of breath, had nothing further to say at the moment. "What's the matter with all you lighthouse folks?" asked Benijah, anxious to change the subject. "What's possessed the whole lot of you to come to the village at one time?
"There's nothin' better," she said. "You bet there ain't!" this from the lightkeeper. "A body can't get within forty fathoms of a cold with a swallow of that amidships. It's hotter than " "Joshua!" "The Fourth of July," concluded her husband, triumphantly. "And now, Mrs. Paine," went on the lady of the house, "your room's all ready.
"Well, by jiminy!" exclaimed the lightkeeper with emphasis, "this is is . . . I guess I BE crazy. If I ain't, you are. Would you mind tellin' me what in time you mean by THAT?" "It is not the mosquitoes," continued his companion, in apparent soliloquy; "there are no mosquitoes at present. It must be the other thing, of course. But so early in the morning, and so violent. Alcohol is "
Seth laid a big hand on his shoulder. "Son," said the lightkeeper, "I'm sorry for you; I cal'late I know how you feel. I like you fust-rate, and if it's a possible thing, I'll fix it so's you can stay right here long's you want to. As for women folks that do come why, we'll dodge 'em if we can, and share responsibility if we must. But there's one thing you've GOT to understand.
Atkins was a fine chap, in his way; but . . . Brown was lonely . . . and when one is lonely, one thinks of what might have been, and, perhaps, regrets. Regrets, unavailing regrets, are the poorest companions possible. The lightkeeper, too, seemed lonely, which, considering his years of experience in his present situation, was odd.
John Reid, principal lightkeeper, who also acted as master of the floating light during the working months at the rock, described the appearance of the numerous lights situated so low in the water, when seen at the distance of two or three miles, as putting him in mind of Milton's description of the fiends in the lower regions, adding, "for it seems greatly to surpass Will-o'-the-wisp, or any of those earthly spectres of which we have so often heard."
He gave that up, also, and, seeing a knothole in one of the boards in the landward side of his jail, knelt and applied his eye to the aperture. His only hope of freedom, apparently, lay in the arrival home of the lightkeeper. If Seth had arrived he could shout through that knothole and possibly be heard.
And then come that ridic'lous business about Sarah Ann Christy. That ended it for good and all." Seth paused in his long story and looked out across the starlit sea. "Who was Sarah Ann?" asked Brown. The lightkeeper seemed much embarrassed. "She was a born fool," he declared, with emphasis; "born that way and been developin' extry foolishness ever since.
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