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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
19
I
began
to
find
this
unexpected
narrative
a
little
dull.
Captain
Littlepage
spoke
with
a
kind
of
slow
correctness
that
lacked
the
longshore
high
flavor
to
which
I
had
grown
used;
but
I
listened
respectfully
while
he
explained
the
winds
having
become
contrary,
and
talked
on
in
a
dreary
sort
of
way
about
his
voyage,
the
bad
weather,
and
the
disadvantages
he
was
under
in
the
lightness
of
his
ship,
which
bounced
about
like
a
chip
in
a
bucket,
and
would
not
answer
the
rudder
or
properly
respond
to
the
most
careful
setting
of
sails.
“So
there
we
were
blowin'
along
anyways,”
he
complained;
but
looking
at
me
at
this
moment,
and
seeing
that
my
thoughts
were
unkindly
wandering,
he
ceased
to
speak.
“It
was
a
hard
life
at
sea
in
those
days,
I
am
sure,”
said
I,
with
redoubled
interest.
“It
was
a
dog's
life,”
said
the
poor
old
gentleman,
quite
reassured,
“but
it
made
men
of
those
who
followed
it.
I
see
a
change
for
the
worse
even
in
our
own
town
here;
full
of
loafers
now,
small
and
poor
as
'tis,
who
once
would
have
followed
the
sea,
every
lazy
soul
of
'em.
There
is
no
occupation
so
fit
for
just
that
class
o'
men
who
never
get
beyond
the
fo'cas'le.
I
view
it,
in
addition,
that
a
community
narrows
down
and
grows
dreadful
ignorant
when
it
is
shut
up
to
its
own
affairs,
and
gets
no
knowledge
of
the
outside
world
except
from
a
cheap,
unprincipled
newspaper.
In
the
old
days,
a
good
part
o'
the
best
men
here
knew
a
hundred
ports
and
something
of
the
way
folks
lived
in
them.
They
saw
the
world
for
themselves,
and
like's
not
their
wives
and
children
saw
it
with
them.
They
may
not
have
had
the
best
of
knowledge
to
carry
with
'em
sight-seein',
but
they
were
some
acquainted
with
foreign
lands
an'
their
laws,
an'
could
see
outside
the
battle
for
town
clerk
here
in
Dunnet;
they
got
some
sense
o'
proportion.
Yes,
they
lived
more
dignified,
and
their
houses
were
better
within
an'
without.
Shipping's
a
terrible
loss
to
this
part
o'
New
England
from
a
social
point
o'
view,
ma'am.”
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