As soon as they were old enough, the boys launched their small craft and set forth to seek their fortunes. Ben, with no cargo on board but his own desires, went west and found a snug and comfortable harbor, while D. Webster, the hope of his mother and the pride of the town, was at thirty-five still putting out to sea, with all sail set, only to find himself again and again aground on the sandbars of the old familiar Cove. III Jimmy Fallows, being the boastful possessor of the fleetest horse in town, was the first to return from the funeral. Extricating himself with some difficulty from the narrow-seated buggy, he held out his hand to Mrs. Fallows. But that imposing lady, evidently offended with her jovial lord, refused his proffered aid, and clambered out over the wheel on the other side. Mrs. Fallows, whose architectural effects were strictly perpendicular, cast a perpetual shadow of disapproval over the life partner whom it had pleased Providence to bestow upon her. Jimmy was a born satirist; he knew things are not what they seem, and he wickedly rejoiced thereat. To his literal, pious-minded wife he at times seemed the incarnation of wickedness. Sweeping with dignity beneath the arching sign of Your Hotel, she took her seat upon the porch, and, disposing her sable robes about her, folded her mitted hands, and waited to see the people return from the funeral. Jimmy, with the uncertain expression of one who is ready to apologize, but cannot remember the offense, hovered about uneasily, casting tempting bits of conversational bait into the silence, but failing to attract so much as a nibble of attention. "Miss Jemima Fenny was over to the funeral from Birdtown. Miss Jim is one of 'em, ain't she?" There was no response. "Had her brother Nick with her. He's just gettin' over typhoid fever; looks about the size and color of a slate pencil. I bet, in spite of Miss Jim's fine clothes, they ain't had a square meal for a month. That's because she kept him at school so long when he orter been at work. He did git a job in a newspaper office over at Coreyville not long 'fore he was took sick. They tell me he's as slick as a onion about newspaper work." Continued silence; but Jimmy boldly cast another fly: "Last funeral we had was Mrs. Tucker's, wasn't it? Old man Tucker was there to-day. Crape band on his hat is climbin' up; it'll be at high mast ag'in soon." Dense, nerve-racking silence; but Jimmy made one more effort: "The Opps are coming back here to-night to talk things over before Ben goes on to Missouri. He counts on ketchin' the night boat. It won't give him much time, will it?" But Mrs. Fallows, unrelaxed, stared fixedly before her; she had taken refuge in that most trying of all rejoinders, silence, and the fallible Jimmy, who waxed strong and prospered upon abuse, drooped and languished under this new and cruel form of punishment.