"Why, Mr. Bee, Obed's father," said I innocently.
"Mr. Hoeg, you mean," said she, as soon as she could suppress her laughter so as to speak. "I forgot to tell you that his name was Obed B. Hoeg. No, he don't live in Egypt; he lives over in Guinea."
I was more and more mystified; I thought of Ledyard and Mungo Park, and pursued my African researches by inquiring:
"What part of the world is this where you live—Nubia or Abyssinia?"
"Neither," answered the young lady, now fairly screaming with laughter. "Why this is Newtown."
"Indeed!" said I. "And have you an 'Oldtown,' too?"
"Not in Nantucket," she replied; "that's on the Vineyard."
I did not learn, till long afterwards, that the name was universally used among the Nantucketers for Edgartown.
But our stay in this quaint old town was short, indeed, for the next afternoon we all reported ourselves on board, under the fatherly care and escort of Messrs. Brooks and Richards; and the Arethusa, with only topmasts aloft, and topsail yards crossed, dropped out from the wharf, in tow of the "Telegraph" steamer, for her station outside of the bar, there to complete rigging and loading for sea. She was at this time in charge of a pilot, and a superannuated whaling captain, who, having outlived active service, now found employment as chief stevedore and temporary captain, in cases where the regular officers preferred to pay for "lay days," and remain with their friends till the ship was quite ready for sea.