Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville
"
"That was strange. A sailor usually loves to be near salt water all his
days," observed Uncle John.
"Wall, Wegg he were diff'rent. He come here when I were a boy, bringin'
a sad-faced young woman an' Ol' Hucks an' Nora. I s'pose Hucks were a
sailor, too, though he never says nuthin' 'bout that. The Cap'n bought
this no'count farm an' had this house built on it--a proceedin' that, ef
I do say it, struck ev'rybody as cur'ous."
"It _was_ curious," agreed Mr. Merrick.
"But the cur'ous'est thing was thet he didn't make no 'tempt at farmin'.
Folks said he had money to burn, fer he loaded it into this fool house
an' then sot down an' smoked all day an' looked glum. Ol' Hucks planted
the berry patch an' looked arter the orchard an' the stock; but Cap'n
Wegg on'y smoked an' sulked. People at Millville was glad to leave him
alone, an' the on'y friend he ever had were crazy Will Thompson."
"Crazy?"
"As a loon." The agent hitched uneasily on the lawn bench, where he was
seated, and then continued, hastily: "But thet ain't neither here ner
there. A baby was born arter a time, an' while he was young the
sad-faced mother sickened an' died. Cap'n Wegg give her a decent fun'ral
an' went right on smokin' his pipe an' sulkin', same as ever. Then
he--he--died," rather lamely, "an' Joe--thet's the boy--bein' then about
sixteen, dug out 'n' run away. We hain't seen him sense."
"Nice boy?" asked Uncle John.
"Joe were pretty well liked here, though he had a bit o' his dad's
sulkiness. He 'n' Ethel Thompson--crazy Will's gran'daughter--seemed
like to make up together; but even she don't know what drav him
off--'nless it were the Cap'n's suddint death--ner where he went to."
Uncle John seemed thoughtful, but asked no more questions, and McNutt
appeared to be relieved that he refrained. But the bill ought to be
forthcoming now, and the agent gave a guilty start as his
patron remarked:
"I want to settle with you for what you have done. I'm willing to pay a
liberal price, you understand, but I won't submit to being robbed
outrageously by you or any of your Millville people.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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