Part 25 (2/2)
They discussed the judge, his illness and the pity of it. This led to a brief talk concerning Sears' hurt and his condition. Kent seemed to consider the latter much improved.
”Your sister says so, too,” he declared. ”I heard her telling Macomber yesterday at dinner that she thought you looked and acted very much more like a well man than when you left our house. And your legs must be better, too, Cap'n. I'm sure you get around easier than you did.”
The captain shrugged. ”I get around,” he said, ”but that's about all you can say. Whether I'll ever.... But there, what's the use of talkin'
about my split timbers? Tell me some of the Bayport news. Now that it seems to be settled I'm goin' to tie up here for a good while I ought to know somethin' about my fellow citizens, hadn't I? What is goin' on?”
There was not very much going on, so Kent said. Captain Lorenzo Taylor's s.h.i.+p was due in New York almost any week or day now, and then the captain would, of course, come home for a short visit. Mrs. Captain Elkanah Wingate had a new silk dress, and, as it was the second silk gown within a year, there was much talk at sewing circle and at the store concerning it and Captain Elkanah's money. One of Captain Orrin Eldridge's children was ill with scarlet fever. The young people of the Universalist society were going to give some amateur theatricals at the Town Hall some time in August, and the minister at the Orthodox meeting-house had already preached a sermon upon the sin of theater going.
”There,” concluded George Kent, with another laugh. ”That's about all the local excitement, Cap'n. It won't keep you awake to-night, I hope.”
Sears smiled. ”Guess I'll drop off in spite of it,” he observed. ”But it is kind of interestin', too, some of it. Hope Cap'n Lorenzo makes a good voyage home. He's in the _Belle of the Ocean_, isn't he? Um-hm. Well, she's a good able vessel and Lorenzo's a great hand to carry sail, so, give him good weather, he'll bring her home flyin'. So the Universalists have been behavin' scandalous, have they? Dear, dear! But what can you expect of folks so wicked they don't believe in h.e.l.l? Humph! I mustn't talk that way. I forgot that you were a Universalist yourself, George.”
Kent smiled. ”Oh, I'm as wicked as anybody you can think of,” he declared. ”Why, I'm going to take a part in those amateur theatricals, myself.”
”Are you? My, my! You'll be goin' to dancin'-school next, and then you _will_ be bound for that place you don't believe in. When is this show of yours comin' off? I'd like to see it, and shall, if Judah and the Foam Flake will undertake to get me to the Town Hall and back.”
”I think we'll give it the second week in August. We had a great argument trying to pick a play. For a long time we were undecided between 'Sylvia's Soldier' or 'Down by the Sea' or 'Among the Breakers.'
At last we decided on 'Down by the Sea.' It's quite new, been out only four or five years, and it rather fits our company. Did you ever see it, Cap'n?”
”No, I never did. I've been out _on_ the sea so much in my life that when I got ash.o.r.e I generally picked out the shows that hadn't anything to do with it--'Hamlet,' or 'Lydia Thompson's British Blondes,' or somethin' like that,” with a wink. Then he added, more soberly, ”The old salt water looks mighty good to me now, though. Strange how you don't want a thing you can have and long for it when you can't.... But I'm not supposed to preach a sermon, at least I haven't heard anybody ask me to.
What's your part in this--what d'ye call it?--'Out on the Beach,'
George?”
”'Down by the Sea.' Oh, I'm 'March Gale,' and when I was a baby I was cast ash.o.r.e from a wreck.”
”Humph! When you were a baby. Started your seafarin' early, I should say. Who else is in it?”
”Oh, Frank Crosby, he is 'Sept Gale,' my brother--only he isn't my brother. And John Carleton--the schoolteacher, you know--he is 'Raymond,' the city man; he's good, too. And Sam Ryder, and Erastus Snow. There was one part--'John Gale,' an old fisherman chap, we couldn't seem to think of any one who could, or would, play it. But at last we did, and who do you think it was? Joel Macomber, your sister's husband.”
”What? Joel Macomber--on the stage! Oh, come now, George!”
”It's a fact. And he's good, too. Some one told one of us that Macomber had done some amateur acting when he was young, and, in desperation, we asked him to try this part. And he is good. You would be surprised, Cap'n Kendrick.”
”Um-hm, I am now. I certainly am. What sort of a part is it Joel's got?
What does this--er--Gale do; anything but blow?”
”Why--why, he doesn't really do much, that's a fact. He is supposed to be a fisherman, as I said, but--well, about all he does in the play is to come on and off and talk a good deal, and scold at Frank and me--his sons, you know--and fuss at his wife and----”
Captain Sears held up his hand.
”That's enough, George,” he interrupted. ”That'll do. Don't do much of anything, talks a lot, and finds fault with other folks. No wonder Joel Macomber can act that part. He ought to be as natural as life in it.
Aren't there any womenfolks in this play, though? I don't see how much could happen without them aboard.”
”Oh, yes, of course there are women. Three of them. Mrs. Cora Ba.s.sett, Eliphalet's brother's wife, she is 'Mrs. Gale,' my mother, only she turns out not to be; and Fannie Wingate, she is the rich city girl; and Elizabeth. That makes the three.”
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