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Next day he had a taste of Trumet's real aristocracy, the genuine article. Captain Elkanah Daniels and his daughter made their first formal call. The captain was majestic in high hat, fur-collared cape, tailed coat, and carrying a gold-headed cane. Miss Annabel wore her newest gown and bonnet and rustled as she walked.
Then, from the settee in front of him, rose the lengthy and fishy person with the cowhide boots and enormous hands. His name was Josiah Badger and he was, according to Trumet's estimate, "a little mite lackin' in his top riggin'." He stuttered, and this infirmity became more and more apparent as he grew eloquent. "I I ain't afraid," he proclaimed.
He placed it in the binnacle and closed the glass lid. "'Twas catched in a bluefish line," he explained. "All snarled up, 'twas." Sam peered through the glass at the compass. "Thunder!" he exclaimed. "I should say we had spun around. Instead of north being off here where I thought it was, it's 'way out to the right. Queer how fog'll mix a fellow up. Trumet's about northeast, isn't it?"
But Solomon had, the month before, given up his fight with debt and illness and was sleeping quietly in Trumet's most populous center, the graveyard.
From the road in front of the store Trumet's "Main Street" came the rattle of wheels and the sound of laughter and conversation in youthful voices. The sounds drew nearer. Someone shouted "Whoa!" Daniel Dott, a ray of hope illuminating his soul at the prospect of a customer, rose hurriedly from his seat by the desk and hastened out into the shop.
July and August are the Cape Cod harvest months; if the single-entry ledgers of Trumet's business men do not show good-sized profits during that season they are not likely to do so the rest of the year.
Nat left town, via the packet, on the following Wednesday. Within another week came the news that his ship, the Sea Mist, had sailed from New York, bound for Manila. Her topsails sank beneath the horizon, and she vanished upon the wild waste of tumbling waves and out of Trumet's knowledge, as many another vessel, manned and officered by Cape Cod men, had done.
Ain't we more important than a common water rat that, even when he's dyin', swears, so I hear tell, like a ship's poll parrot? I never heard of such foolishness. It beats ME!" It "beat" a good many who, like the Widow Rogers, could not understand self-sacrifice. But there were more, and they the majority of Trumet's intelligent people, who understood and appreciated. Dr.
You'll see me in the third pew from the back, on the right side, wishin' you luck just as hard as I can." So, as in couples or family groups, afoot or in all sorts of vehicles, the members of Trumet's Regular society came to the church to hear their new minister, that functionary peeped under the parlor window shade of the parsonage and waited, fidgetting and apprehensive, for the Winslows.
"Jerushy!" exclaimed the lightkeeper. "This is kind of unexpected, ain't it? What's got into her to make her so accommodatin'?" "Godfreys mighty!" was the dazed reply, "I don't know. This as fast as you can drive? Hurry up, afore she changes her mind." So it happened that Mr. Pepper was in Bayport with the rest, awaiting the stage which was bringing Trumet's latest celebrity from Sandwich.
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