Produced by Al Haines [Illustration: Cover Art] VESTY OF THE BASINS _A Novel_ BY SARAH P. McLEAN GREENE AUTHOR OF CAPE COD FOLKS, ETC. NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS Published by arrangement with Harper & Brothers Copyright, 1892, by HARPER & BROTHERS. All rights reserved. CONTENTS I. THE MEETIN' II. "SETTIN' ON THE LOG" III. "GETTIN' A NAIL PUT IN THE HOSS'S SHU" IV. LOVE, LOVE V. COLUMBUS AND THE EGG, AND LOT'S WIFE VI. THIS GREATER LOVE VII. "SETTIN' ON THE FENCE"--THE SHIFTY SPECTRE VIII. "VESTY'S MARRIED" IX. THE TALE OF CAPTAIN LEEZUR'S SLY COURTSHIP X. A CALL FROM NOTELY'S YACHT XI. ANOTHER NAIL XII. THE MASTER REVELLER XIII. CAPTAIN LEEZUR RELATES HOW MIS' GARRISON ATE CROW XIV. "TAR-A-TA!" OF THE TRUMPET XV. THE BROTHERS XVI. THE POPLAR LEAVES TREMBLE XVII. GOIN' TO THE DAGARRIER'S XVIII. UNCLE BENNY SAILS AWAY TO GALILEE XIX. THE BASIN XX. SOCIAL DIVERSIONS AT THE "POST-OFFICE" XXI. BROKEN WINDOWS XXII. "NEIGHBORIN'" XXIII. THE "FLAG-RAISIN'," OR THE "OCCASION" XXIV. THE STORY OF THE SACRED COW XXV. IN THE LANE XXVI. JUST THE SCHOOL-HOUSE VESTY OF THE BASINS I THE MEETIN' Now is it to be rain or a storm of wind at the Basin? I love that foam out on the sea; those boulders, black and wet along the shore, they are a rest to me; the clouds chase one another; in this dim north country the wind is cool and strong, though it is now midsummer; at sunset you shall see such color! From a little, low, storm-beaten building comes the sound of a fog-horn. That is the gift of Melchias Tibbitts, deceased, to the Basin school-house. Yonder is his schooner, the "Martha B. Fuller," long stranded, leaning seaward, down there in the cove. It is Sunday afternoon; the fog-horn that Melchias Tibbitts gave--it serves as bell; the battered schoolhouse as church; and for Sunday raiment? some little reverent, aspiring compromise of an unwonted white collar, stretched stiff and holy and uncomfortable about the stalwart neck above a blue flannel shirt, or a new pair of rubber boots--the trousers much tucked in--worn with an air of conscious, deprecating pride. But the women will be fine. God only knows how! but be sure, in some pitiful, sweet way they will be fine. There are many panes of glass out of the windows, the panels of the doors are out; so better they can see the clouds pass: it is beautiful. Oh, naught have I either, nor wisdom, nor fine speech--only a little knowledge of shipwreck out yonder, and mirth, and tears, and love. The windows and panels of my life are no strong plate, polished and glittering to all beholders; they are stained and broken through. Let me come in and sit with ye. "We should like to open our meetin' with singin'," said Superintendent Skates; "will one of the Pointers lead us in singin'?"