Slightly I drank. Captain Pharo drank. Uncle Coffin drank. The bottle was replaced, and we as solemnly descended. I had never been unwarily affected, even by a much larger quantity of the pure article; perhaps by way of compensation an electric spark from Uncle Coffin's own personality had entered into this compound. More likely still, it was the radiant atmosphere. But I remembered standing out leaning against the pig-pen, with Captain Pharo and Uncle Coffin, of nudging and being nudged by them into frequent excess of laughter over some fondly rambling anecdote or confiding witticism, until Captain Pharo, "taking the sun," decided to put off until some other day going to the Point to get a nail put in the horse's shoe. I remembered--well might I, for they were in my own too--the honest tears in the eyes of Uncle Coffin and Aunt Salomy as we parted; of being tucked in again under the Star, with new accessions to our store, of dried smelts and summer savory, and three newly born kittens in a bag, which I was instructed to hold so as to give them air without allowing them to escape. Yes, and of the dying splendor of the sun, the ineffable colors painting sea and sky; and of knowing that if I had not already become a Basin, I should inevitably have joined the Artichokes. IV LOVE, LOVE At Garrison's Neck was the old Garrison "shanty"--Notely's ideal; well preserved; built onto it a spacious dwelling, with stables attached, after Mrs. Garrison's idea. Notely's shanty was a mixture of elegant easy-chairs and drying oil-skin raiment, black tobacco pipes, books, musical instruments, fishing-tackle, mirth and evening firelight; all the gravitation of the premises was toward it--the Garrison guests yearned for it. His mother was with him now. "You will drive down to the boat with me and meet them, Notely?" Notely whistled with respectful concern, but his eyes were as happy as the dawn. "Oh, well, ah--h--I'll have to ask you to let Tom drive you down to-day, mother. I've an engagement to sail over to Reef Island." Mrs. Garrison did not condescend to look annoyed. She smiled, sweet and high. "Considering the social position of Mrs. Langham and her daughter, and their wealth, Notely, you might postpone even that engagement. Possibly you could arrange to play with the fisher girl some other day." When Notely was puzzled or provoked he felt for the pipe in his pocket, just like old Captain Pharo, laughed, and came straight again. "Why, mother! you were a Basin girl yourself--the 'Beauty of the Basins,'" he said, with soft pride--he knew no better--and smiled as though he saw another face. "Are you foolish?" said his mother, giving way sharply.