"There's nothing official yet, you understand," Salem Rock added, kindly; "but we've passed a vote, and the rest is only a question of time." "Only a question of time!" echoed Abram Cutter and John Peavey. Mr. Homer drew himself up and settled his sky-blue necktie. "Gentlemen," he said, his voice faltering a little at first, but gaining strength as he went on, "I thank you for the honor you do me. I am deeply sensible of it, and of the responsibility of the position I am called upon to fill; to--occupy;--to--a--become a holder of." "Have a lozenger, Home!" said Seth Weaver, encouragingly. "I--am obliged to you, Seth; not any!" said Mr. Homer, slightly flustered. "I was about to say that my abilities, such as they are, shall be henceforth devoted to the service--to the--amelioration; to the--mental, moral, and physical well-being--of my country and my fellow citizens. Ahem! I suppose--I believe it is the custom--a--in short, am I at liberty to choose an assistant?" "We were just talkin' about that," said Salem Rock. "Yes, you choose your own assistant, of course; but--well, it's usual to choose someone that's agreeable to folks. I believe the village has generally had some say in the matter; not officially, you understand, just kind of complimentary. We nominate you, and you kind o' consult us about who you'll have in to help. That seems about square, don't it? Doctor Stedman recommended you to Isr'el, I remember." There was an assenting hum. Mr. Homer leaned out of the window, all his self-consciousness gone. "Mr. Rock," he said, eagerly, "I wish most earnestly--I am greatly desirous of having William Jaquith as my assistant. I--he appears to me a most suitable person. I beg, gentlemen--I hope, boys, that you will agree with me. The only son of his mother, and she is a widow." He paused, and looked anxiously at the elders. They had all turned toward him when he appeared, some even going so far as to set their chairs on four legs, and hitching them forward so that they might command a view of their beneficiary. But now, with one accord, they turned their faces seaward, and became to all appearance deeply interested in a passing sail. "The only son of his mother, and she is a widow!" Mr. Homer repeated, earnestly. Salem Rock crossed and recrossed his legs uneasily. "That's all very well, Homer," he said. "No man thinks more of Scripture than what I do, in its place; but this ain't its place. This ain't a question of widders, it's a question of the village. Will Jaquith is a crooked stick, and you know it." "He has been, Brother Rock, he has been!" said Mr. Homer, eagerly. "I grant you the past; but William is a changed man, he is, indeed. He has suffered much, and a new spirit is born in him. His one wish is to be his mother's stay and support. If you were to see him, Brother Rock, and talk with him, I am sure you would feel as I do. Consider what the poet says: 'The quality of mercy is not strained!'"