motes of tbe 1FU0bt 



one hundred and forty-six years ago, was be- 

 calmed, and lay awake all night because of the 

 whippoorwills and frogs. Neither were noisy now, 

 and the ripple of the tide, where a few pebbles 

 checked its flow, was the single sound that I 

 heard. It was apparent that my coming had dis- 

 turbed all lurking life that happened to be near, 

 and I stood quite still until confidence was re- 

 stored. The unanticipated occurred. The first 

 sound was that of a dog growling uncomfortably 

 near, and then the voice of an old acquaintance, 

 Bill Pullen, the hermit fisherman. Nothing can 

 please me better than such a meeting by day. 

 But if he should prove talkative to-night, I was 

 indeed unfortunate. 



"Well, Bill," I remarked, when he had called 

 his dog away, " I 'm sorry to disturb your fish- 

 ing?" 



" You can't disturb me, as you call it, if I don't 

 want to be. The world 's big enough for both, 

 I guess, and if you can keep on your own legs, 

 I can keep on mine." 



It would be hard to say if this was a welcome 

 or not, but it did not disconcert me. I knew my 

 man, and stood for a moment watching the play 

 of moonlight on the water, and then said how 

 commonplace we are at times! "This is a pretty 

 night for a walk, if you like Nature." 



" Well, is there anything better to like ? I Ve 

 been livin' in my cabin on the island for more 

 42 



