“Well, it was n't much,” said the woman; “it was only like this. I have heard her say that Miss Captain Pelham was a good woman and meant to do what was right, but she was n't a woman that knew how to mother a little boy.” And here the witness began to cry.
The judge moved slightly in his chair.
There was more or less rambling talk about the way the boy was allowed to run loose on the shore, and some suggestions were made in the way of conversational argument about his being allowed to go barefoot, and to go in swimming when he pleased; but the judge seemed to pay very little attention to that. “That 's the way we were all brought up,” he said. “It is good for the boy; he 'll learn to take care of himself, and his mother knew all about it.
“It is plain enough,” he said at last, “that there would be some advantages to the boy in going to live with Captain Pelham; but there is one thing that has been overlooked which would probably have been suggested if the petitioner Parsons had had counsel. It has been assumed that the boy would be cut loose in future from his grandfather Pelham unless he was put under his guardianship; but that is n't so. All his grandparents will look out for him, and when he gets older, and wants to go into business, here or elsewhere, Captain Pelham will look after him just the same as if he were his guardian. The other grandfather has n't got the means to advance him. I am not at all afraid about that,” he said; “the only question here is, where he shall be deposited for the next five or six years. Either place is good enough. His father had a right to fix it by will if he had chosen to; but he did n't, and I think we must consider it a matter for the women to settle: they know best about such things. It is plain that his mother thought it would be best for him to stay where he is, and she knew best. He 's wonted there, and wants to stay.”
Then he took up his pen and wrote on Captain Pelham's petition an order of dismissal. On the other he filled out and signed the decree granting guardianship to James Parsons, and approved the bond. Then he handed the papers to the register and called the next case.
From this day on, little was seen of Captain Pelham at James's house. Sometimes he would stop in his buggy and take the boy off with him for a little stay; but Joe soon wearied of formality, and grew restless for James, for his grandmother Parsons, for the free life of the little wharf and the shore. Life always opened fresh to him on his return.
Once and only once Captain Pelham entered James's door-yard. James was sitting in an armchair under an apple-tree by the well, smoking and reading the paper. The Captain began, this time, with no introduction.
“Fred Gooding,” he said, “tells me you are talking of letting Joe go out with Pitts in his boat You know Pitts is no fit man.”
“You tell Fred Gooding he don't know what he 's talking about,” said James, as he rose from his chair, holding the paper in his hand. “What I told Pitts was just the contr'y,—the boy should n't go along o' him.” Then his anger began to rise. “But what right you got,” he demanded, “to interfere? 'T ain 't none of your business who I let him go along of. It's me that's the boy's guardeen.”
“Very well,” said the Captain. “Only I tell you fairly,—the first time I get word of anything, I 'll go to the probate court and have you removed!”