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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
58
The
wind
served
us
all
the
way
home,
and
did
not
fall
or
let
the
sail
slacken
until
we
were
close
to
the
shore.
We
had
a
generous
freight
of
lobsters
in
the
boat,
and
new
potatoes
which
William
had
put
aboard,
and
what
Mrs.
Todd
proudly
called
a
full
“kag”
of
prime
number
one
salted
mackerel;
and
when
we
landed
we
had
to
make
business
arrangements
to
have
these
conveyed
to
her
house
in
a
wheelbarrow.
I
never
shall
forget
the
day
at
Green
Island.
The
town
of
Dunnet
Landing
seemed
large
and
noisy
and
oppressive
as
we
came
ashore.
Such
is
the
power
of
contrast;
for
the
village
was
so
still
that
I
could
hear
the
shy
whippoorwills
singing
that
night
as
I
lay
awake
in
my
downstairs
bedroom,
and
the
scent
of
Mrs.
Todd's
herb
garden
under
the
window
blew
in
again
and
again
with
every
gentle
rising
of
the
seabreeze.
XII.
A
Strange
Sail
EXCEPT
FOR
a
few
stray
guests,
islanders
or
from
the
inland
country,
to
whom
Mrs.
Todd
offered
the
hospitalities
of
a
single
meal,
we
were
quite
by
ourselves
all
summer;
and
when
there
were
signs
of
invasion,
late
in
July,
and
a
certain
Mrs.
Fosdick
appeared
like
a
strange
sail
on
the
far
horizon,
I
suffered
much
from
apprehension.
I
had
been
living
in
the
quaint
little
house
with
as
much
comfort
and
unconsciousness
as
if
it
were
a
larger
body,
or
a
double
shell,
in
whose
simple
convolutions
Mrs.
Todd
and
I
had
secreted
ourselves,
until
some
wandering
hermit
crab
of
a
visitor
marked
the
little
spare
room
for
her
own.
Perhaps
now
and
then
a
castaway
on
a
lonely
desert
island
dreads
the
thought
of
being
rescued.
I
heard
of
Mrs.
Fosdick
for
the
first
time
with
a
selfish
sense
of
objection;
but
after
all,
I
was
still
vacation-tenant
of
the
schoolhouse,
where
I
could
always
be
alone,
and
it
was
impossible
not
to
sympathize
with
Mrs.
Todd,
who,
in
spite
of
some
preliminary
grumbling,
was
really
delighted
with
the
prospect
of
entertaining
an
old
friend.
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