“Ask away. No charge made.”
“You know time hangs a little heavy here.”
“That’s so, Walter, but what of it?”
“Well, I was thinking if we couldn’t have a little variety here. Now there are some subjects that it would be rather interesting to know about, it seems to me, and it would be in our line of business. I mean such as the sea and storm, or commerce, or our Life Saving Service and that of England. You know somebody might write on them, and we have a little society–meeting and read our pieces. We could have a certain afternoon for it, and then we could discuss subjects. We might call it the ‘Mutual Improvement Society,’ or something like that, you know.”
“That’s quite an idea, Walter. The name though might frighten some of ’em out of doors.”
“Call it—call it ‘Round the Stove Society.’”
“Ha–ha, we have that all the time. That’s a sticker, the name. What shall she be? Well, I guess we had better get our boat before we name it. You let me speak to the Cap’n, and then if he favors it, you say a word to Tom and Woodbury, and I’ll try the rest.”
Keeper Barney that morning was delayed by his work, and took his fried potatoes, biscuit and coffee after the usual breakfast hour. Cook Charlie thought, “Now is the time. We are alone, and I’ll bring up that little matter now. Let me see; how shall I take him? The Cap’n is a fustrate feller, but he likes to have the credit of siggestin’, and doin’ things hisself. I must jest fix it in some way so that he’ll mention it hisself. Let’s see.”
Fingering his bald head as if he expected to find the right idea on the outside, if not inside, he approached the keeper, holding out an additional plate of “fried taters” just from the pan, steaming and savory, as an innocent magnet to bring the keeper’s heart into a favorable attitude toward the new plan.
“Oh, Charlie, you’re real good,” exclaimed the keeper.