And so “By-an’-by” Brown, travelling over the hills, came hopefully to Jim Turley of Candlestick Cove, an obliging man, whilst the maid kept watch at the window of the Blunder Cove cottage. And Jim Turley was a most obligin’ man. ’Blige? Why, sure! _I’ll_ ’blige ye! There was no service difficult or obnoxious to the selfish sons of men that Jim Turley would not perform for other folk—if only he might ’blige. Ye jus’ go ast Jim Turley; _he’ll_ ’blige ye. And Jim Turley would with delight: for Jim had a passion for ’bligin’—assiduously seeking opportunities, even to the point of intrusion. Beaming Jim Turley o’ Candlestick Cove: poor, shiftless, optimistic, serene, well-beloved Jim Turley, forever cheerfully sprawling in the meshes of his own difficulties! Lean Jim Turley—forgetful of his interests in a fairly divine satisfaction with compassing the joy and welfare of his fellows! I shall never forget him: his round, flaring smile, rippling under his bushy whiskers, a perpetual delight, come any fortune; his mild, unself-conscious, sympathetic blue eyes, looking out upon the world in amazement, perhaps, but yet in kind and eager inquiry concerning the affairs of other folk; his blithe “Yo-ho!” at labor, and “Easy does it!” Jim Turley o’ Candlestick Cove—an’ obligin’ man! “In trouble?” he asked of “By-an’-by” Brown, instantly concerned. “Not ’xactly trouble,” answered “By-an’-by.” “Sort o’ bothered?” “Well, no,” drawled “By-an’-by” Brown; “but I got t’ have a father by Satu’day night.” “For yerself?” Jim mildly inquired. “For the maid,” said “By-an’-by” Brown; “an’ I was ’lowin’,” he added, frankly, “that you might ’blige her.” “Well, now,” Jim Turley exclaimed, “I’d like t’ wonderful well! But, ye see,” he objected, faintly, “bein’ a ol’ bachelor I isn’t s’posed t’—” “Anyhow,” “By-an’-by” Brown broke in, “I jus’ got t’ have a father by Satu’day night.” “An’ I’m a religious man, an’—” “No objection t’ religion,” Brown protested. “I’m strong on religion m’self. Jus’ as soon have a religious father as not. Sooner. Now,” he pleaded, “they isn’t nobody else in the world t’ ’blige me.” “No,” Jim Turley agreed, in distress; “no—I ’low not.” “An’ I jus’ _got_,” declared Brown, “t’ have a father by Satu’day night.” “Course you is!” cried Jim Turley, instantly siding with the woebegone. “Jus’ got t’!” “Well?” “Oh, well, pshaw!” said Jim Turley, “_I’ll_ ’blige ye!”