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Updated: June 2, 2025
Five minutes later they were seated in the buggy and George Washington was jogging with dignified deliberation along the road toward East Wellmouth. "And why," demanded Captain Obed, "have you come to Wellmouth again, after all these years?" Mr. Kendrick smiled. "Well, Captain Bangs," he said, "it is barely possible that I've come here to stay." "To stay! You don't mean to stay for good?"
Cabot I note your inquiry concerning the stock of the Wellmouth Development Company, its desirability as an investment, the likelihood of present sale, and so on. I know nothing of the matter personally, and am not in a position to ascertain at the present time.
The road from Wellmouth Centre to East Wellmouth is not a good one; even in dry weather and daylight it is not that. For the first two miles it winds and twists its sandy way over bare hills, with cranberry swamps and marshy ponds in the hollows between.
But Ebenezer had took the trouble to write us, and so we felt 'twas our duty not to disappoint him, and especially Peter, who had done so much for us, managing the Old Home House. The Old Home House was our summer hotel at Wellmouth Port. How me and Jonadab come to be in the summer boarding trade is another story and it's too long to tell now.
Asaph looked somewhat crestfallen, but he surrendered gracefully to superior wisdom. "That's so," he said. "That's so, ain't it, Cy? I hadn't thought of that." "What's so?" asked the captain. "Why why, that Wellmouth ain't Bayport." "No doubt of it. They're twenty miles apart." "Yes. Well, I'm glad to hear you put it so conclusive, Mr. Atkins. I can see now that Phoebe wouldn't do. Hum! Yes." Mr.
Christmas was to be, as Thanksgiving had been, a day free from boarders at the High Cliff House. Caleb was again "asked out," and Mr. Daniels, so he said, "called away." He had spent little time in East Wellmouth of late, though no one seemed to know exactly where he had been or why. The day before Christmas was cold and threatening. Late in the afternoon it began to rain and the wind to blow.
The Judge was Wellmouth Centre's biggest gun, rich at least, that's what everybody thought then and pompous and dignified and straight-backed as an old-fashioned church pew. "Well, I'm pretty near to the end, although it may not seem that way. For the first few months all hands were talkin' about what great things the Wellmouth Development Company was goin' to do.
And his attitude was not pretense, either; it was obvious that the more East Wellmouth discussed his buying the Development stock the less he liked it. When his fellow townsmen questioned him he grew peevish. "Oh, forget it!" he exclaimed to one of the unfortunate who came seeking information. "You make me tired, Jim Fletcher, you and Ras Beebe and the whole gang.
The fog in the valley was thicker even than that upon the hill and East Wellmouth was almost invisible. Mr. Bangs made out a few houses, a crossroads, a small store, and that was about all. From off to the right a tremendous bellow sounded. The fog seemed to quiver with it. "WHAT is that?" asked Mr. Bangs, nervously. "I've heard it ever since I left the train, I believe.
And, fringing that bluff and clustering thickest in the lowlands just beyond, is the village of East Wellmouth, which must on no account be confused with South Wellmouth, or North Wellmouth, or West Wellmouth, or even Wellmouth Port. On a bright sunny summer day the East Wellmouth road is a hard one to travel.
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