"It seems a long time, these months," he continued at last, glancing at Ray, "an' so 'tis; but I had a longer spell on't once, an' it ended the way I hope your waitin' won't. It all happened more'n forty years ago, 'n' I've never told nobody 'bout it since. "I was born in Bayport, that's a seaport town, an' me 'n' my only brother took to the sea at an arly age. We had sweethearts, too, and, curislike, they was sisters. Mine was Abbie Grey--sweet Abbie Grey they used to call her, an' she well desarved it. "Wal, I used to see her 'tween viages, mebbe a week or two, onct in six or twelve months o' waitin', an' them was spells I've lived over hundreds o' times, I kin tell ye. We 'greed to hitch up finally arter I made one more viage, 'n' I went off, feelin' life ahead was all apple orchards 'n' sunshine." He paused, looked long at the dying embers once more, and then continued: "Life is all a mix-up o' hopes 'n' disapp'intments, tho', an' the brighter the hopes the more sartin they are to be upset. I started on that viage feelin' heaven was waitin' fer me at shore, 'n' I seemed to 'a' sailed right into the other place, fer our ship sprung a leak 'n' foundered. We took to the boats, ez I told ye onct. Most o' my crew died afore I was picked up, 'n' then the whaler that took me aboard was bound on a four years' viage. That was bad enough, but worse was possible, fer she fetched up on a coral island one night toward the last on't, and 'twas plumb six years 'fore I heard from home 'n' Abbie. Things had happened thar in that time, too, an' I was told my brother had been given up ez lost, 'n' Abbie, believin' we both was dead, had married 'nother man. I was so upsot I never let her know I was alive, 'n' she don't know it to-day, if she's still livin', which I hope she is." For a long time now Old Cy remained silent, his head bowed, his eyes closed, as that long-ago page of memories returned, while Ray watched him. "Life is a curis puzzle," he added at last, "an' we all live in to-morrers. Fust we are like boys chasin' Jack-lanterns, rushin' on all the time, 'spectin' most o' the trouble is past 'n' the future is all rosy. We don't figger much on to-day, but callate next week, next month, next year, is goin' to be more sunshiny, till we get old 'n' gray 'n' grumpy, 'n' nobody wants us 'round." Once more he ceased speaking, and once more his eyes closed. Five, ten, twenty minutes passed while Ray watched Old Age in repose and the fire quite died away. "It's gittin' chilly," Old Cy said at last, suddenly rousing himself from his dream of the long ago and sweet Abbie Grey, "an' we'd best turn in." CHAPTER XXI "The biggest fool thing--an' we all do it--is shakin' hands with trouble 'fore ye meet it."--Old Cy Walker.