"We were just talkin' about that," said Salem Rock.
"Yes, you choose your own assistant, of course; but—well, it's usual to choose someone that's agreeable to folks. I believe the village has generally had some say in the matter; not officially, you understand, just kind of complimentary. We nominate you, and you kind o' consult us about who you'll have in to help. That seems about square, don't it? Doctor Stedman recommended you to Isr'el, I remember."
There was an assenting hum.
Mr. Homer leaned out of the window, all his self-consciousness gone.
"Mr. Rock," he said, eagerly, "I wish most earnestly—I am greatly desirous of having William Jaquith as my assistant. I—he appears to me a most suitable person. I beg, gentlemen—I hope, boys, that you will agree with me. The only son of his mother, and she is a widow."
He paused, and looked anxiously at the elders.
They had all turned toward him when he appeared, some even going so far as to set their chairs on four legs, and hitching them forward so that they might command a view of their beneficiary.
But now, with one accord, they turned their faces seaward, and became to all appearance deeply interested in a passing sail.
"The only son of his mother, and she is a widow!" Mr. Homer repeated, earnestly.
Salem Rock crossed and recrossed his legs uneasily.