Many a housewife wished, like Mrs. Brewster, that she also might profit by Jim's gift; but though he did all kinds of chores for the whole village, he would cook for no one but Miss Palmyra Henshaw. "I steal you hen!" he said to her. "I wish to make you up for zat. I steal hens at no ozer lady." So Miss Palmyra grew to feel a sort of ownership of Jim Popples, which was by no means unpleasant; and she sewed on his buttons (for pleasure; he could do it perfectly well himself, as she knew) and mended his clothes; while he, at work with broom or mop, or whittling away at basket-splints, told her wonderful stories of foreign lands, of apes and peacocks, cedars and pomegranates, till the good woman grew to feel that her thief was a very remarkable and very gifted person. So three months slipped away, as fast as months are apt to do; and a day came when the captains sat all together in the Upper House at Bannister's, and Giorgios Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos stood before them, as he had stood once before, with his jailer glooming beside him. The captains had sent for him, and now, at a murmur from the others, Captain Zeno Pye took up the word: "Wal, Jim, yer three months is up, and I s'pose you're thinkin' about goin'. Me and the captains feel to say to you that you've done well, real well. Of course you started in mean, and stealin' aint right, however you look at it. But you've worked stiddy, and you've worked good; and I reckon you'd have to hunt round consid'able before you found anybody in town who wa'n't real sorry to have ye go. If you felt to stay, I don't doubt but you could get all the work you wanted, odd-jobbin' round. The _se_leckmen 'd oughter pay ye somethin' for repairin' the jail, but thar!--that's between you and them. Wal! the steamer comes to-morrer, and I s'pose you'll be movin'. What we want to say is, that we're right sorry to have ye go, Jim Popples. You're a handy fellow, and I don't doubt you're a good seaman; and if me or the other captains can speak a good word for ye, or help ye any way with a start, why, we're ready to do it. That's so, aint it?" There was a growl of assent, in the midst of which-- "Thar she blows!" sung out Captain Abram Bannister. "Where away?" cried Captain Bije Tarbox. "Weather bow!" responded Captain Abram, and slept peacefully. Jim looked slowly round the circle; his smile grew wider and brighter, till each man felt warm, and thought the weather was moderating; then he saluted in seaman fashion. "I not go!" said the child of Hellas. "I stay. I get married to-morrow--to Mees Palmyre!" THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL. Part I.