“Well, I never expected to live to see a man that had been shipwrecked,” said Mrs. Weaver, “let alone shipwrecked on a desert island—an' a book agent at that!”
Eliph' smiled indulgently.
“I wasn't a book agent in them days,” he said; “it was that made me a book agent. If I hadn't been shipwrecked on that island I wouldn't be here now with this book on my knees.”
Mrs. Weaver's face flushed.
“I'm sure I ask you to excuse me,” she exclaimed. “I don't know what I was thinkin' of not to ask to take your package. Let me put it aside for you. They ain't no use for you to be bothered with it.”
“Thank you, ma'm,” said Eliph', “but I'll just keep it. No offense, but I never let it go out of my hands, day or night. It saved my life, not once, but many times, this book did, and I keep it handy. But for this book that shipwreck would have been my last day.”
“Land sakes, now!” cried Mrs. Weaver, “won't you tell us about it?”
“Well, as I said, but for this book I'd be bones at the bottom of the sea. Yes, ladies and gents, bones, of which there is one hundred and ninety-eight in the full grown human skeleton, composed of four-fifths inorganic and one-fifth organic matter.”
“How dreadful!” exclaimed Mrs. Weaver, who, being a doctor's wife, had a particular dislike for bones, as for useless things that cluttered up the house, and were not ornamental. “But how come you to get wrecked?”
“Five years ago,” said Eliph' Hewlitt, “I was a confidence man in New York. New York is the largest city in the Western Hemisphere; population estimated over three million; located on the island of Manhattan, at the mouth of the Hudson River. And, if I do say it myself, I was a good confidence man. I was a success; I got rich. And what then? The police got after me, and I had to run away. Yes, ladies and gents, I had to fly from my native land. I took passage on a ship for Ceylon. Ceylon,” he added, “is an island southeast of India; population three millions; principal town, Colombo; English rule; products, tea, coffee, spices, and gems.