At last, when he ejaculated, “Mrs. Simmons,” just as she was carrying her beloved glass preserve-dish to its place in the parlor-closet, she was so excited that she dropped the brittle treasure, and uttered not a moan over the fragments.
“Mrs. Simmons, I’ve made up my mind to lead an entirely new life,” said the captain, gravely.
“It’s what I’ve been hopin’ fur years an’ years, cap’en,” responded the happy old lady.
“Hev you, though? God bless your motherly old soul,” said the captain, warmly. “Well, I’ve turned over a new leaf, and it don’t git turned back again.”
“That’s right,” said Mrs. Simmons, with a happy tear under each spectacle-glass. “Fight the good fight, cap’en.”
“Just my little game,” continued the captain. “’Tain’t ev’ry day that a man ken find an angel willin’ to look out fur him, Mrs. Simmons.”
“An angel! Oh, cap’en, how richly blessed you hev been!” sobbed Mrs. Simmons. “Many’s the one that hez prayed all their lives long for the comin’ of a good sperrit to guide ’em.”
“Well, I’ve got one, sure pop,” continued Captain Sam; “and happy ain’t any kind of a name fur what I be all the time now.”
“Bless you!” said the good woman, wringing the captain’s hand fervidly. “But you’ll hev times of trouble an’ doubt, off an’ on.”
“Is that so?” asked the captain, thoughtfully.