“Isabel,” said Mr. Moreland, almost sternly, “get in the boat quickly, and let us be off. You have already detained us much longer than was necessary.”
“Oh, papa, my delay was unavoidable,” cried Isabel, as she stepped in. “But, look, papa, here is a gentleman who wishes to accompany us. Is there room for him?”
“A gentleman? Who is he?”
“Jonathan Boggs, all the way from Maine!” ejaculated that individual himself, coming down to the water’s edge with a single stride. “Here I be, every bit o’ me, an’ a foot or two to spare. Want tew buy a clock?”
The Yankee drew himself up to his full hight, and coolly scanned the crew of each vessel.
“It strikes me I have seen you before,” said Mr. Moreland, after surveying the New Englander from head to foot.
“Wal, then, you may view me behind awhile,” returned the man, with the utmost nonchalance, quietly turning his back toward the voyagers as he spoke.
“No, no; you did not understand me correctly,” said the settler, smiling. “Come; look here.”
The clock-vender turned slowly around again, seeming puzzled by the low, chuckling laugh which ran through the party of hunters.
“Your name is Boggs?” asked Mr. Moreland.