Captain Cy puffed at his pipe. He seemed about to speak and then to think better of it, for he crossed his legs and smoked on in silence, gazing at the nickel work of the “base-burner” stove. It was badly in need of polishing. “Well?” inquired Asaph, with impatient sarcasm. “Thinkin' of askin' me to build a fire for you, was you? Nobody else but you would have set up a stove in summer time, anyhow.” “Hey? No, you needn't start a fire yet awhile. That necktie of yours 'll keep us warm till fall, I shouldn't wonder. New one, ain't it? Where'd you get it?” Mr. Tidditt was wearing a crocheted scarf of a brilliant crimson hue, particularly becoming to his complexion. The complexion now brightened until it was almost a match for the tie. “Oh!” he said, with elaborate indifference. “That? Yes, it's new. Yesterday was my birthday, and Matildy Tripp she knew I needed a necktie, so she give me this one.” “Oh! One she knit purpose for you, then? Dear me! Look out, Ase. Widow women are dangerous, they say; presents are one of the first baits they heave out.” “Don't be foolish, now! I couldn't chuck it back at her, could I? That would be pretty manners. You needn't talk about widders--not after Debby! Ho! ho!” Captain Cy chuckled. Then he suddenly became serious. “Ase,” he said, “you remember the time when the Howes folks had this house? Course you do. Yes; well, was there any of their relations here with 'em? A--a cousin, or somethin'?” “No, not as I recollect. Yes, there was, too, come to think. A third cousin, Mary Thayer her name was. I THINK she was a third cousin of Betsy Howes, Seth Howes's second wife. Betsy's name was Ginn afore she married, and the Ginns was related on their ma's side to a Richards--Emily Richards, I think 'twas--and Emily married a Thayer. Would that make this Mary a third cousin? Now let's see; Sarah Jane Ginn, she had an aunt who kept a boardin' house in Harniss. I remember that, 'count of her sellin' my Uncle Bije a pig. Seems to me 'twas a pig, but I ain't sure that it mightn't have been a settin' of Plymouth Rock hens' eggs. Anyhow, Uncle Bije KEPT hens, because I remember one time--” “There! there! we'll be out of sight of land in a minute. This Mary Thayer--old, was she?” “No, no! Just a young girl, eighteen or twenty or so. Pretty and nice and quiet as ever I see. By Godfrey, she WAS pretty! I wan't as old as I be now, and--” “Ase, don't tell your heart secrets, even to me. I might get absent-minded and mention 'em to Matildy. And then--whew!”