It is queer that one can make oneself at home in such a little hole, and find people that are quite absorbing; I mean the natives, as well as the others. The whole place is asleep by eight or nine, unless there has been a good catch of fish, when the little houses on the edge of the cove are full of weary men still ripping away at the cod, that are brought in huge piles dwindling very fast after they are spread out to dry. Daddy gets batches of newspapers, by the uncertain mail, but finishes by nine and requests to be permitted to snore in peace. I write hurriedly for an hour or two, and finally succumb to the drowsiness you may find reflected in these pages.
On returning from my visit to Dick Will, Daddy looked at me enquiringly, as I am his chief source of local news and the dear old man is becoming nearly as absorbed in Sweetapple Cove as in Wall Street.
"The parson has gone to pay other visits," I told him, "but I couldn't leave you any longer. He is such a nice little man. He asked if he could read a chapter from the Bible, and Dick said he would be very glad. When it was finished the man looked as if he were thinking very hard, and Mr. Barnett asked if anything were puzzling him. Then Dick asked about the ice in the Sea of Galilee, because big floes were often ankle-deep and he had often seen men who looked as if they were walking on the water. Mr. Barnett explained that there was no ice in that country."
"And what did Dick say?" asked Daddy.
"'Then how does they do for swiles?'" was what he asked, and when he was informed that there were no seals in Galilee Dick expressed commiseration for the poor people.
"They are a pretty ignorant lot," commented Dad, laughing heartily.
"Few of them have the slightest chance of obtaining any education," I replied. "And Mr. Barnett was so nice to him, explaining things. Then he said nothing at all about the chastening effect of suffering. That seems to be something these people know about. The parson just said that we were all so glad to see him getting well again. You know, Daddy, the admonitions of some dominies sound rather like hitting a fellow when he's down. Mr. Barnett isn't that kind."
"I expect that he belongs to a first-rate kind, my dear," said Daddy. "There are all kinds of religions, but the only one I respect is that of the simple, trusting soul."
"I met Mrs. Barnett and asked her to come in to supper," I informed Dad. "We have plenty of canned chicken left and Susie's brother brought in a lot of beautiful trout. The man thought that fifteen cents a dozen would be about the right price, but he left it to me, and I couldn't beat him down. When he brought them Susie disdainfully informed him that fish was grub for poor people, and that we had lots of lovely things in cans. I insisted on taking the trout."
"If you continue to squander money in that way I'll have to cut down your allowance," threatened Daddy, whereupon I reminded him that he had never made me one and that I had always sent the bills to him.