December third I had still so much mail and business to attend to that I stayed over another day. Set a door frame for Brownell and spent that evening at his house. The postmaster came too, fine fellow, and we’d a great evening taking turns singing songs—and the P. M. did mighty well with “School-master Mishter O’Toole.” The day I’d spent writing and gossiping about town.
I heard then a story about Olson that’s worth while. He was once telling a crowd of men about the reindeer to the northward. Among his listeners was a Jew who was annoyed with his “hectoring.” At last this joker asked: “Olson, if you bred a reindeer to a Swede what would you get?” “You’d get a Jew,” replied Olson. The Jew, who still lives in Seward, has not bothered Olson since. The old man has a rare reputation for his honesty and truth and all round sterling qualities.
It’s truly a satisfaction to be in a country where men are alert enough to take no offense at alertness, where enterprise is so common a virtue that it arouses no suspicion, and where it is the rule to mind your own business.
December fourth we set about to leave for Fox Island. It took two hours to wind up our final business in town and embark. Brownell helped with the boat. Of course the engine balked for fifteen minutes and then (not “of course”) went beautifully. After traveling a quarter of a mile I learned that Rockwell had left our clock standing in the snow by Olson’s cabin. So for that we went back. Brownell saw us and brought it.
The trip was swift and smooth. At Caine’s Head it began to snow, obscuring Fox Island, but I knew the course. In mid-channel the engine stopped. After ten minutes’ tinkering it resumed going and went beautifully till we rounded the head of our cove. Then it sputtered and I had continually to crank it. However, it carried us to thirty or forty feet of the shore when it breathed its last, thanks to the snow that had by now thoroughly wet the engine and ourselves. We unloaded and with great labor hauled up the dory and turned her over. That night I was exhausted and went straight to bed, leaving Rockwell at his drawing. So now we’re on Fox Island again.
