"It's sea-weed, isn't it?"

"Yes. And moreover--Miss Faith, that is part of your marine Flora. Now what about the clams?"

"My _what?_" said Faith. "First tell me, please, what you said."

"Your marine Flora."

"What is that?"

"The particular department of life in the sea, of which this is a specimen."

Faith looked puzzled, and amused.

"You don't mean to enlighten me more than you can help," she said. "But why do you call it Flora? you used that word before. And oh Mr.

Linden--You can't tell me now, for supper's all ready."

His eyes looked amused too, and laying a clover head on the window, he said,

"That is part of your land Flora,"--then pushed the shutter to rather quick, but softly; and Faith heard the reason thereof as follows.

"Wal sir--ef this be you, I've looked all over for you."

"How was it that you overlooked me then, sir?" was Mr. Linden's reply.

"Don't jes know," laughed Jem Williams,--"but Miss Cilly Deacon wants you the worst kind."

"And where shall I go to receive her commands?" said Mr. Linden.

Faith heard their retreating steps, and turning to take off her ap.r.o.n saw the dish of hot clams still on the stove, and that Reuben had removed himself outside the door, quite beyond the conversation but not beyond call. He stood looking thoughtfully out towards the muscle rocks.

"Oh Reuben! there you are. Come!" said Faith; "you're going in with me.

_You_'re going to have some supper to-night, whoever else does. You open the door, and I'll take in this dish. You keep by me, Reuben."

"Please let me take the dish, then, Miss Faith,--I can open the door first."

But Faith had her own way, and followed by Reuben carried the clams into the supper room, where some of the company were already seated, and others stood waiting. Squire Deacon had not only given the desired introduction, but had (self-denyingly) placed Mr. Linden next Miss Cilly at the table,--where he stood.

"Here's a contribution," said Faith,--"if somebody 'll make a place for it. Thank you, Mr. Deacon. Now Reuben,--come here."

And refusing more than one offer of a place at the table, Faith made her way down to the 'well end' where there was room for two--at a remote distance from the tea and coffee.

What else was there not, upon that table!

"Won't you take a seat, Mr. Linden?" said Miss Cecilia. "I hope you've got room there. Jerushy, can't you shove down a little? I hope my coffee-pot's not disagreeable."

"I hope not!" said Mr. Linden, surveying the coffee-pot. "How long does it take to declare itself, Miss Deacon?"

"O it won't do anything, but spout coffee," said the young lady,--"if you don't mind that. Won't you be helped to what you like, Mr. Linden?

I hope you have enjoyed our sh.o.r.e party this afternoon."

"Thank you"--said Mr. Linden, feeling perhaps that it was not _their_ party he had enjoyed,--"there has been a combination of pleasant things. As far as I could judge the bathers enjoyed their particular expedition."

"O yes, it was delightful--invigorating. Mr. Simlins, I think Mr.

Linden will like a piece of that cherry-pie with his clams. Do you take cheese, Mr. Linden? Is your coffee agreeable? There is the cold tongue by you, Jerushy.--I hope you like Pattaqua.s.set."

"Ask Mr Linden whether Pattaqua.s.set ain't a good place for handsome gals," said Mr. Simlins, as he handed over the piece of cherry-pie. "He knows by this time. I say there's a con-catenation of beauty now here this afternoon. If you look from the top to the bottom of the table, now, ain't it true, sir?"

Mr. Linden certainly looked from the top to the bottom of the table, and then setting the plate of cherry-pie as far from his clams as he could, he said,

"Miss Deacon--let me help you,--tell me where these cups belong, and I will convey them to their destination."

"I thought they'd shove down somehow," said the young lady. "Jerushy, _do_ pa.s.s the coffee! They're for anybody down there who'll take coffee. Tea'll be along presently," added Miss Cecilia, raising her voice a little to give the information. "Don't you trouble yourself, Mr. Linden."

But Mr. Linden secured one, and carrying it down to Faith, requested her to stir it and taste it, and not give him the trouble of coming back with the sugar-bowl.

"What will you have?" he said while she obeyed his directions. "Here are all the pies that can be thought of except the musical one recorded in history."

"And so," said Faith with a laughing flash of her usually soft eye, "you immediately give me a desire for the one not here! It's like you, Mr. Linden. No, thank you--I'll have none of these. I believe Reuben has a desire for some of the clams he and I have roasted."

"I'm afraid I cannot get them away from Squire Deacon!" he said, "but I'll try."

The Squire however held fast to the dish, and rising from his place midway at the table, insisted upon taking it to Faith himself.

"Miss Faith," he said, "you have ruined my supper by sitting down here.

My appet.i.te has quite forsaken me," (whereupon Jem Williams observed, "that warn't strange.")--"and the worst is," added the Squire, "I can't maintain the constant supervision of your plate which my feelings prompt. I am too far off"--he concluded in a melancholy tone.

"I say, Squire!" said Jem Williams, "you bain't _mor_'n as far agin as _he_"--with a nod towards the upper end of the table.

Squire Deacon lowered, but for the present his feelings were restrained.

"Mr. Simlins," said Endecott, when he had resumed his seat, "I ask you--as one who knows the country--whereabouts does the concatenation you spoke of reach a climax?"

"The star you look at is always the brightest," said the farmer.

"However, I think the clams is the best thing at table--or _near_ the best," with a slight glance towards Squire Deacon and the dish at the 'well end.'"I've a legendary attachment to beauty, sir; my father married the three prettiest wives in the country."

"I say, Squire," said Jem Williams, "Mr. Simlins says you'r' hot."

"Hot?" said Squire Deacon, flushing up very much, and setting down the clams,--"that dish is. _I_'m as cool as all these cuc.u.mbers acc.u.mulated into a heap."

"Hope you'll stay where you are, then," said Mr. Simlins. "I'm cool too. Don't come near me, or we shall be in a state of concentration."

Mr. Linden remarked that that was an excellent point when reached.

"What point?" said Squire Deacon, who had returned to his seat with the strong impression that everybody was laughing at him, under the special guidance of the new teacher. "You know mighty little of the points round here, I tell _you_."

"The point of concentration is found in various places, sir," said Mr.

Linden: "though I grant you it is rare."