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 a stubborn mule, but he was fond of his wife, so he give in and said, ‘Well, durn it, bury me where you please. But when Gabriel’s trump blows I expect my dog to rise with the rest of us, for he had as much soul as any durned Elliott or Crawford or MacAllister that ever strutted.’ Them was his parting words. As for Marshall, we’re all used to him, but he must strike strangers as right down peculiar-looking. I’ve known him ever since he was ten—he’s about fifty now—and I like him. Him and me was out cod-fishing today. That’s about all I’m good for now—catching trout and cod occasional. But ’tweren’t always so—not by no manner of means. I used to do other things, as you’d admit if you saw my life-book.”

Anne was just going to ask what his life-book was when the First Mate created a diversion by springing upon Captain Jim’s knee. He was a gorgeous beastie, with a face as round as a full moon, vivid green eyes, and immense, white, double paws. Captain Jim stroked his velvet back gently.

“I never fancied cats much till I found the First Mate,” he remarked, to the accompaniment of the Mate’s tremendous purrs. “I saved his life, and when you’ve saved a creature’s life you’re bound to love it. It’s next thing to giving life. There’s some turrible thoughtless people in the world, Mistress Blythe. Some of them city folks who have summer homes over the harbor are so thoughtless that they’re cruel. It’s the worst kind of cruelty—the thoughtless