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“Upon my word I do!” said Dorcas, and her opinion was correct.

The wagon drew up in front of Mrs. Ducket’s little white house, and the two women sat rigidly, their hands in their laps, staring at the man who drove.

This was an elderly personage with whitish hair, and under his chin a thin whitish beard, which waved in the gentle breeze and gave Dorcas the idea that his head was filled with hair which was leaking out from below.

“Is this the Widow Ducket’s?” inquired this elderly man, in a strong, penetrating voice.

“That’s my name,” said the widow, and laying her knitting on the bench beside her, she went to the gate. Dorcas also laid her knitting on the bench beside her and went to the gate.

“I was told,” said the elderly man, “at a house we touched at about a quarter of a mile back, that the Widow Ducket’s was the only house in this village where there was any chance of me and my mates getting a meal. We are four sailors, and we are making from the bay over to Cuppertown, and that’s eight miles ahead yet, and we are all pretty sharp set for something to eat.”

“This is the place,” said the widow, “and I do give meals if there is enough in the house and everything comes handy.”

“Does everything come handy to-day?” said he.

“It does,” said she, “and you can hitch your horse and come in; but I haven’t got anything for him.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said the man, “we brought along stores for him, so we’ll just make fast and then come in.”

The two women hurried into the house in a state of bustling preparation, for the furnishing of this meal meant one dollar in cash.

The four mariners, all elderly men, descended from the wagon, each one scrambling with alacrity over a different wheel.

A box of broken ship-biscuit was brought out and put on the ground in front of the horse, who immediately set himself to eating with great satisfaction.

Tea was a little late that day, because there were six persons to provide for instead of two, but it was a good meal, and after the four seamen had washed their hands and faces at the pump in the back yard and had wiped them on two towels furnished by Dorcas, they all came in and sat down. Mrs. Ducket seated herself at the head of the table with the dignity proper to the mistress of the house, and Dorcas seated herself at the other end with the dignity proper to the disciple of the mistress. No service was necessary, for everything that was to be eaten or drunk was on the table.

When each of the elderly mariners had had as much bread and butter, quickly baked soda-biscuit, dried beef, cold ham, cold tongue, and preserved fruit of every variety known, as his storage capacity would permit, the mariner in command, Captain Bird, pushed back his chair, whereupon the other mariners pushed back their chairs.

“Madam,” said Captain Bird, “we have all made a good meal, which didn’t need to be no better nor more of it, and we’re satisfied; but that horse out there has not had time to rest himself enough to go the eight miles that lies ahead of us, so, if it’s all the same to you and this good lady, we’d like to sit on that front porch awhile and smoke our pipes. I was a-looking at that porch when I came in, and I bethought to myself what a rare good place it was to smoke a pipe in.”

“There’s pipes been smoked there,” said the widow, rising, “and it can be done again. Inside the house I don’t allow tobacco, but on the porch neither of us minds.”