One cold, rainy afternoon, early in February, she came in with Bos'n, who had availed herself of the shelter of the teacher's umbrella. Georgianna was in the kitchen baking, and Emily had been promised a “saucer pie”--so the child went out to superintend the construction of that treat. “Set down, teacher,” said Captain Cy, pushing forward a rocker. “My! but I'm glad to see you. 'Twas bluer'n a whetstone 'round here to-day. What's the news--anything?” “Why, no,” replied Phoebe, accepting the rocker and throwing open her wet jacket; “there's no news in particular. But I wanted to ask if you had seen the Breeze?” “Um--hum,” was the listless answer. “I presume likely you mean the news about the appropriation, and the editorial dig at yours truly? Yes, I've seen it. They don't bother me much. I've got more important things on my mind just now.” Congressman Atkins's pledge in his farewell speech, concerning the mighty effort he was to make toward securing the appropriation for Bayport harbor, was in process of fulfillment--so he had written to the local paper. But, alas! the mighty effort was likely to prove unavailing. In spite of the Honorable Heman's battle for his constituents' rights it seemed certain that the bill would not provide the thirty thousand dollars for Bayport; at least, not this year's bill. Other and more powerful interests would win out and, instead, another section of the coast be improved at the public expense. The congressman was deeply sorry, almost broken-hearted. He had battled hard for his beloved town, he had worked night and day. But, to be perfectly frank, there was little or no hope. Few of us blamed Heman Atkins. The majority considered his letter “noble” and “so feeling.” But some one must be blamed for a community disappointment like this, and the scapegoat was on the premises. How about that “committee of one” self-appointed at town meeting? How about the blatant person who had declared HE could have gotten the appropriation? What had the “committee” done? Nothing! nothing at all! He had not even written to the Capital--so far as anyone could find out--much less gone there. So, at Simmons's and the sewing circle, and after meeting on Sunday, Cy Whittaker was again discussed and derided. And this week's Breeze, out that morning, contained a sarcastic editorial which mentioned no names, but hinted at “a certain now notorious person” who had boasted loudly, but who had again “been weighed in the balance of public opinion and found wanting.” Miss Dawes did not seem pleased with the captain's nonchalant attitude toward the Breeze and its editorial. She tapped the braided mat with her foot. “Captain Cyrus,” she said, “if you intended doing nothing toward securing that appropriation why did you accept the responsibility for it at the meeting?” Captain Cy looked up. Her tone reminded him of their first meeting, when she had reproved him for going to sleep and leaving Bos'n to the mercy of the Cahoon cow.