"No, no! Don't you say a word to Bailey. It's princ.i.p.ally on his account that I'm tryin' to stick it out for the month. Bailey did his best; he thought he was helpin'. And he feels dreadfully because she's so deef.

Only yesterday he asked me if I believed there was anything made that would fix her up and make it more comfortable for me. I could have prescribed a shotgun, but I didn't. You see, he thinks her deefness is the only trouble; I haven't told him the rest, and don't you do it, either. Bailey's a good-hearted chap."

"Humph! his heart may be good, but his head's goin' to seed. I'll keep quiet if 'twill please you, though."

"Yes. And, see here, Ase! I don't care to be the laughin' stock of Bayport. If any of the folks ask you how I like my new housekeeper, you tell 'em there's nothin' like her anywhere. That's no lie."

So Mrs. Beasley stayed on at the Whittaker place and, thanks to Mr.

Tidditt, the general opinion of inquisitive Bayport was that the new housekeeper was a grand success. Only Captain Cy and Asaph knew the whole truth, and Mr. Bangs a part. That part, Deborah's deafness, troubled him not a little and he thought much concerning it. As a result of this thinking he wrote a letter to a relative in Boston. The answer to this letter pleased him and he wrote again.

One afternoon, during the third week of Mrs. Beasley's stay, Asaph called and found Captain Cy in the sitting room, reading the Breeze. The captain urged his friend to remain and have supper. "We've run out of beans, Ase," he explained, "and are just startin' in on a course of boiled cod. Do stay and eat a lot; then there won't be so much to warm over."

Mr. Tidditt accepted the invitation, also a section of the Breeze. While they were reading they heard the back door slam.

"It's the graven image," explained the captain. "She's been on a cruise down town somewheres. Be a lot of sore throats in that direction to-morrow mornin'."

The town clerk looked up.

"There now!" he exclaimed. "I believe 'twas her I saw walkin' with Bailey a spell ago. I thought so, but I didn't have my specs and I wan't sure."

"With Bailey, hey? Humph! this is serious. Hope Ketury didn't see 'em.

We mustn't have any scandal."

The housekeeper entered the dining room. She was singing "Beulah Land,"

but her tone was more subdued than usual. They heard her setting the table.

"How's she gettin' along?" asked Asaph.

"Progressin' backwards, same as ever. She's no better, thank you, and the doctor's given up hopes."

"When you goin' to tell her she can clear out?"

"What?" Captain Cy had returned to his paper and did not hear the question.

"I say when is she goin' to be bounced? Deefness ain't catchin', is it?"

"I wouldn't wonder if it might be. If 'tis, mine ought to be developin'

fast. What makes her so still all at once?"

"Gone to the kitchen, I guess. Wonder she hasn't sailed in and set down with us. Old chromo! You must be glad her month's most up?"

Asaph proceeded to give his opinion of the housekeeper, raising his voice almost to a howl, as his indignation grew. If Mrs. Beasley's ears had been ordinary ones she might have heard the unflattering description in the kitchen; as it was Mr. Tidditt felt no fear.

"Comin' here so's you could be company for her! The idea! Good to herself, ain't she! G.o.dfrey scissors! And Bailey was fool enough to--"

"There, there! Don't let it worry you, Ase. I've about decided what to say when I let her go. I'll tell her she is gettin' too old to be slavin' herself to death. You see, I don't want to make the old critter cry, nor I don't want her to get mad. Judgin' by the way she used to coax the cat outdoors with the broom handle she's got somethin' of a temper when she gets started. I'll give her an extry month's wages, and--"

"You will, hey? You WILL?"

The interruption came from behind the partially closed dining-room door.

Mr. Tidditt sank back in his chair. Captain Cy sprang from his and threw the door wide open. Behind it crouched Mrs. Deborah Beasley. Her eyes snapped behind her spectacles, her lean form was trembling all over, and in her right hand she held a mammoth trumpet, the smaller end of which was connected with her ear.

"You will, hey?" she screamed, brandishing her left fist, but still keeping the ear trumpet in place with her right. "You WILL? Well, I don't want none of your miser'ble money! Land knows how you made it, anyhow, and I wouldn't soil my hands with it. After all I've put up with, and the way I've done my work, and the things I've had to eat, and--and--"

She paused for breath. Captain Cy scratched his chin. Asaph, gazing open-mouthed at the trumpet, stirred in his chair. Mrs. Beasley swooped down upon him like a gull on a minnow.

"And you!" she shrieked. "You! a miserable little, good-for-nothin', lazy, ridiculous, dried-up-- . . . Oo--oo--OH! You call yourself a town clerk! YOU do! I--I wouldn't have you clerk for a hen house! I'm an old chromo, be I? Yes! that's nice talk, ain't it, to a woman old enough to be--that is--er--er--'most as old as you be! You sneakin', story-tellin', little, fat THING, you! You--oh, I can't lay my tongue to words to tell you WHAT you are."

"You're doin' pretty well, seems to me," observed Captain Cy dryly. "I wouldn't be discouraged if I was you."

The only effect of this remark was to turn the wordy torrent in his direction. The captain bore it for a while; then he rose to his feet and commanded silence.

"That's enough! Stop it!" he ordered, and, strange to say, Mrs. Beasley did stop. "I'm sorry, Debby," he went on, "but you had no business to be listenin' even if--" and he smiled grimly, "you have got a new fog horn to hear with. You can go and pack your things as soon as you want to. I made up my mind the first day you come that you and me wouldn't cruise together long, and this only shortens the trip by a week or so. I'll pay you for this month and for the next, and I guess, when you come to think it over, you'll be willin' to risk soilin' your hands with the money.

It's your own fault if anybody knows that you didn't leave of your own accord. _I_ shan't tell, and I'll see that Tidditt doesn't. Now trot!

Ase and I'll get supper ourselves."

It was evident that the ex-housekeeper had much more which she would have liked to say. But there was that in her late employer's manner which caused her to forbear. She slammed out of the room, and they heard her banging things about on the floor above.

"But where--WHERE," repeated Mr. Tidditt, over and over, "did she get that trumpet?"

The puzzle was solved soon after, when Bailey Bangs entered the house in a high state of excitement.

"Well," he demanded, expectantly. "Did they help her? Has anything happened?"

"HAPPENED!" began Asaph, but Captain Cy silenced him by a wink.

"Yes," answered the captain; "something's happened. Why?"

"Hurrah! I thought 'twould. She can hear better, can't she?"

"Yes, I guess it's safe to say she can."

"Good! You can thank me for it. When I see how dreadful deef she was I wrote my cousin Eddie T, who's an optician up to Boston--you know him, Ase--and I says: 'Ed, you know what's good for folks who can't see?

Ain't there nothin',' says I, 'that'll help them who can't hear? How about ear trumpets?' And Ed wrote that an ear trumpet would probably help some, but why didn't I try a pair of them patent fixin's that are made to put inside deef people's ears? He'd known of cases where they helped a lot. So I sent for a pair, and the biggest ear trumpet made, besides. And when I met Debby to-day I give 'em to her and told her to put the patent things IN her ears and couple on the trumpet outside 'em. And not to say nothin' to you, but just surprise you. And it did surprise you, didn't it?"

The wrathful Mr. Tidditt could wait no longer. He burst into a vivid description of the "surprise." Bailey was aghast. Captain Cy laughed until his face was purple.

"I declare, Cy!" exclaimed the dejected purchaser of the "ear fixin's"

and the trumpet. "I do declare I'm awful sorry! if you'd only told me she was no good I'd have let her alone; but I thought 'twas just the deefness. I--I--"

"I know, Bailey; you meant well, like the layin'-on-of-hands doctor who rubbed the rheumatic man's wooden leg. All right; _I_ forgive you. 'Twas worth it all to see Asaph's face when Marm Beasley was complimentin'

him. Ha! ha! Oh, dear me! I've laughed till I'm sore. But there's one thing I SHOULD like to do, if you don't mind: I should like to pick out my next housekeeper myself."

CHAPTER V

A FRONT-DOOR CALLER