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+Project Gutenberg's The Log of The "Jolly Polly", by Richard Harding Davis
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Log of The "Jolly Polly"
+
+Author: Richard Harding Davis
+
+Posting Date: October 10, 2008 [EBook #1808]
+Release Date: May, 1999
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOG OF THE "JOLLY POLLY" ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Aaron Cannon
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LOG OF THE "JOLLY POLLY"
+
+By Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+Temptation came to me when I was in the worst possible position to
+resist it.
+
+It is a way temptation has. Whenever I swear off drinking invariably I
+am invited to an ushers' dinner. Whenever I am rich, only the highbrow
+publications that pay the least, want my work. But the moment I am
+poverty-stricken the MANICURE GIRL'S MAGAZINE and the ROT AND SPOT
+WEEKLY spring at me with offers of a dollar a word. Temptation always is
+on the job. When I am down and out temptation always is up and at me.
+
+When first the Farrells tempted me my vogue had departed. On my name and
+"past performances" I could still dispose of what I wrote, but only to
+magazines that were just starting. The others knew I no longer was
+a best-seller. All the real editors knew it. So did the theatrical
+managers.
+
+My books and plays had flourished in the dark age of the
+historical-romantic novel. My heroes wore gauntlets and long swords.
+They fought for the Cardinal or the King, and each loved a high-born
+demoiselle who was a ward of the King or the Cardinal, and with feminine
+perversity, always of whichever one her young man was fighting. With
+people who had never read Guizot's "History of France," my books were
+popular, and for me made a great deal of money. This was fortunate, for
+my parents had left me nothing save expensive tastes. When the tastes
+became habits, the public left me. It turned to white-slave and crook
+plays, and to novels true to life; so true to life that one felt the
+author must at one time have been a masseur in a Turkish bath.
+
+So, my heroines in black velvet, and my heroes with long swords were
+"scrapped." As one book reviewer put it, "To expect the public of to-day
+to read the novels of Fletcher Farrell is like asking people to give up
+the bunny hug and go back to the lancers."
+
+And, to make it harder, I was only thirty years old.
+
+It was at this depressing period in my career that I received a letter
+from Fairharbor, Massachusetts, signed Fletcher Farrell. The letter was
+written on the business paper of the Farrell Cotton Mills, and asked if
+I were related to the Farrells of Duncannon, of the County Wexford,
+who emigrated to Massachusetts in 1860. The writer added that he had a
+grandfather named Fletcher and suggested we might be related. From the
+handwriting of Fletcher Farrell and from the way he ill-treated the
+King's English I did not feel the ties of kinship calling me very loud.
+I replied briefly that my people originally came from Youghal, in County
+Cork, that as early as 1730 they had settled in New York, and that all
+my relations on the Farrell side either were still at Youghal, or dead.
+Mine was not an encouraging letter; nor did I mean it to be; and I
+was greatly surprised two days later to receive a telegram reading,
+"Something to your advantage to communicate; wife and self calling
+on you Thursday at noon. Fletcher Farrell." I was annoyed, but also
+interested. The words "something to your advantage" always possess a
+certain charm. So, when the elevator boy telephoned that Mr. and Mrs.
+Farrell were calling, I told him to bring them up.
+
+My first glance at the Farrells convinced me the interview was a waste
+of time. I was satisfied that from two such persons, nothing to my
+advantage could possibly emanate. On the contrary, from their lack of
+ease, it looked as though they had come to beg or borrow. They resembled
+only a butler and housekeeper applying for a new place under the
+disadvantage of knowing they had no reference from the last one. Of the
+two, I better liked the man. He was an elderly, pleasant-faced Irishman,
+smooth-shaven, red-cheeked, and with white hair. Although it was July,
+he wore a frock coat, and carried a new high hat that glistened. As
+though he thought at any moment it might explode, he held it from him,
+and eyed it fearfully. Mrs. Farrell was of a more sophisticated type.
+The lines in her face and hands showed that for years she might have
+known hard physical work. But her dress was in the latest fashion, and
+her fingers held more diamonds than, out of a showcase, I ever had seen.
+
+With embarrassment old man Farrell began his speech. Evidently it had
+been rehearsed and as he recited it, in swift asides, his wife prompted
+him; but to note the effect he was making, she kept her eyes upon me.
+Having first compared my name, fame, and novels with those of Charles
+Dickens, Walter Scott, and Archibald Clavering Gunter, and to the
+disadvantage of those gentlemen, Farrell said the similarity of our
+names often had been commented upon, and that when from my letter he
+had learned our families both were from the South of Ireland, he had
+a premonition we might be related. Duncannon, where he was born, he
+pointed out, was but forty miles from Youghal, and the fishing boats out
+of Waterford Harbor often sought shelter in Blackwater River. Had any of
+my forebears, he asked, followed the herring?
+
+Alarmed, lest at this I might take offense, Mrs. Farrell interrupted
+him.
+
+"The Fletchers and O'Farrells of Youghal," she exclaimed, "were gentry.
+What would they be doing in a trawler?"
+
+I assured her that so far as I knew, 1750 being before my time, they
+might have been smugglers and pirates.
+
+"All I ever heard of the Farrells," I told her, "begins after they
+settled in New York. And there is no one I can ask concerning them. My
+father and mother are dead; all my father's relatives are dead, and
+my mother's relatives are as good as dead. I mean," I added, "we don't
+speak!"
+
+To my surprise, this information appeared to afford my visitors great
+satisfaction. They exchanged hasty glances.
+
+"Then," exclaimed Mr. Farrell, eagerly; "if I understand you, you have
+no living relations at all--barring those that are dead!"
+
+"Exactly!" I agreed.
+
+He drew a deep sigh of relief. With apparent irrelevance but with a
+carelessness that was obviously assumed, he continued.
+
+"Since I come to America," he announced, "I have made heaps of money."
+As though in evidence of his prosperity, he flashed the high hat. In
+the sunlight it coruscated like one of his wife's diamonds. "Heaps of
+money," he repeated. "The mills are still in my name," he went on, "but
+five years since I sold them--We live on the income. We own Harbor
+Castle, the finest house on the whole waterfront."
+
+"When all the windows are lit up," interjected Mrs. Farrell, "it's often
+took for a Fall River boat!"
+
+"When I was building it," Farrell continued, smoothly, "they called
+it Farrell's Folly; but not NOW." In friendly fashion he winked at
+me, "Standard Oil," he explained, "offered half a million for it. They
+wanted my wharf for their tank steamers. But, I needed it for my yacht!"
+
+I must have sat up rather too suddenly, for, seeing the yacht had
+reached home, Mr. Farrell beamed. Complacently his wife smoothed an
+imaginary wrinkle in her skirt.
+
+"Eighteen men!" she protested, "with nothing to do but clean brass and
+eat three meals a day!"
+
+Farrell released his death grip on the silk hat to make a sweeping
+gesture.
+
+"They earn their wages," he said generously.
+
+"Aren't they taking us this week to Cap May?"
+
+"They're taking the yacht to Cape May!" corrected Mrs. Farrell; "not ME!"
+
+"The sea does not agree with her," explained Farrell; "WE'RE going by
+automobile." Mrs. Farrell now took up the wondrous tale.
+
+"It's a High Flyer, 1915 model," she explained; "green, with white enamel
+leather inside, and red wheels outside. You can see it from the window."
+
+Somewhat dazed, I stepped to the window and found you could see it from
+almost anywhere. It was as large as a freight car; and was entirely
+surrounded by taxi-starters, bellboys, and nurse-maids. The chauffeur,
+and a deputy chauffeur, in a green livery with patent-leather leggings,
+were frowning upon the mob. They possessed the hauteur of ambulance
+surgeons. I returned to my chair, and then rose hastily to ask if I
+could not offer Mr. Farrell some refreshment.
+
+"Mebbe later," he said. Evidently he felt that as yet he had not
+sufficiently impressed me.
+
+"Harbor Castle," he recited, "has eighteen bedrooms, billiard-room,
+music-room, art gallery and swimming-pool." He shook his head. "And no
+one to use 'em but us. We had a boy." He stopped, and for an instant, as
+though asking pardon, laid his hand upon the knee of Mrs. Farrell.
+"But he was taken when he was four, and none came since. My wife has a
+niece," he added, "but----"
+
+"But," interrupted Mrs. Farrell, "she was too high and mighty for
+plain folks, and now there is no one. We always took an interest in
+you because your name was Farrell. We were always reading of you in
+the papers. We have all your books, and a picture of you in the
+billiard-room. When folks ask me if we are any relation--sometimes I
+tell 'em we ARE."
+
+As though challenging me to object, she paused.
+
+"It's quite possible," I said hastily. And, in order to get rid of them,
+I added: "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll write to Ireland and----"
+
+Farrell shook his head firmly. "You don't need to write to Ireland," he
+said, "for what we want."
+
+"What DO you want?" I asked.
+
+"We want a SON," said Farrell; "an adopted son. We want to adopt YOU!"
+
+"You want to WHAT?" I asked.
+
+To learn if Mrs. Farrell also was mad, I glanced toward her, but her
+expression was inscrutable. The face of the Irishman had grown purple.
+
+"And why not?" he demanded. "You are a famous young man, all right, and
+educated. But there's nothing about me I'm ashamed of! I'm worth five
+million dollars and I made every cent Of it myself--and I made it
+honest. You ask Dun or Bradstreet, ask----"
+
+I attempted to soothe him.
+
+"THAT'S not it, sir," I explained. "It's a most generous offer, a most
+flattering, complimentary offer. But you don't know me. I don t know
+you. Choosing a son is a very----"
+
+"I've had you looked up," announced Mrs. Farrell. "The Pinkertons give
+you a high rating. I hired 'em to trail you for six months."
+
+I wanted to ask WHICH six months, but decided to let sleeping dogs lie.
+I shook my head. Politely but firmly I delivered my ultimatum.
+
+"It is quite impossible!" I said firmly.
+
+Mrs. Farrell continued the debate. She talked in a businesslike manner
+and pronounced the arrangement one by which both sides would benefit.
+There were thousands of other Farrells, she pointed out, any one of
+whom they might have adopted. But they had selected me because in so
+choosing, they thought they were taking the least risk. They had decided
+she was pleased to say, that I would not disgrace them, and that as a
+"literary author" I brought with me a certain social asset.
+
+A clever, young businessman they did not want. Their business affairs
+they were quit able to manage themselves. But they would like as an
+adopted son one who had already added glory to the name of Farrell,
+which glory he was willing to share.
+
+"We wouldn't tie you down," she urged "but we would expect you to live
+at Harbor Castle a part of your time, and to call us Ma and Pa.
+You would have your own rooms, and your own servant, and there is a
+boat-house on the harbor front, where you could write your novels."
+
+At this, knowing none wanted my novels, I may have winced, for,
+misreading my discontent, Farrell hastily interrupted.
+
+"You won't have to work at all," he protested heartily. "My son can
+afford to live like a lord. You'll get all the spending money you want,
+and if you're fond of foreign parts, you can take the yacht wherever you
+please!"
+
+"The farther the better," exclaimed Mrs. Farrell with heat. "And when
+you get it there, I hope you'll SINK it!"
+
+"Maybe your friends would come and visit You," suggested Farrell,
+I thought, a trifle wistfully. "There's bathing, tennis, eight...
+bedrooms, billiard-room, art gallery----"
+
+"You told him that!" said Mrs. Farrell.
+
+I was greatly at a loss. Their offer was preposterous, but to them, it
+was apparently a perfectly possible arrangement. Nor were they acting
+on impulse. Mrs. Farrell had admitted that for six months she had had me
+"trailed." How to say "No" and not give offense, I found difficult. They
+were deeply in earnest and I could see that Farrell, at least, was by
+instinct generous, human, and kind. It was, in fact, a most generous
+offer. But how was I to tell them tactfully I was not for sale, that I
+was not looking for "ready-to-wear" parents, and that if I were in the
+market, they were not the parents I would choose. I had a picture of
+life at Harbor Castle, dependent upon the charity of the Farrells. I
+imagined what my friends would say to me, and worse, what they would say
+behind my back. But I was not forced to a refusal.
+
+Mr. Farrell rose.
+
+"We don't want to hurry you," he said. "We want you to think it over.
+Maybe if we get acquainted----"
+
+Mrs. Farrell smiled upon me ingratiatingly.
+
+"Why don't we get acquainted now?" she demanded. "We're motoring down
+to Cape May to stay three weeks. Why don't you come along--as our
+guest--and see how you like us?"
+
+I assured them, almost too hastily, that already was deeply engaged.
+
+As they departed, Farrell again admonished me to think it over.
+
+"And look me up at Dun's and Bradstreet's," he advised. "Ask 'em about
+me at the Waldorf. Ask the head waiters and bellhops if I look twice at
+a five spot!"
+
+It seemed an odd way to select a father, but I promised.
+
+I escorted them even to the sidewalk, and not without envy watched them
+sweep toward the Waldorf in the High Flyer, 1915 model. I caught myself
+deciding, were it mine, I would paint it gray.
+
+I was lunching at the Ritz with Curtis Spencer, and I looked forward to
+the delight he would take in my story of the Farrells. He would probably
+want to write it. He was my junior, but my great friend; and as a
+novelist his popularity was where five years earlier mine had been. But
+he belonged to the new school. His novels smelled like a beauty parlor;
+and his heroines, while always beautiful, were, on occasions, virtuous,
+but only when they thought it would pay.
+
+Spencer himself was as modern as his novels, and I was confident his
+view of my adventure would be that of the great world which he described
+so accurately.
+
+But to my amazement when I had finished he savagely attacked me.
+
+"You idiot!" he roared. "Are you trying to tell me you refused five
+million dollars--just because you didn't like the people who wanted to
+force it on you? Where," he demanded, "is Cape May? We'll follow them
+now! We'll close this deal before they can change their minds. I'll make
+you sign to-night. And, then," he continued eagerly, "we'll take their
+yacht and escape to Newport, and you'll lend me five thousand dollars,
+and pay my debts, and give me back the ten you borrowed. And you might
+buy me a touring-car and some polo ponies and--and--oh, lots of things.
+I'll think of them as we go along. Meanwhile, I can't afford to give
+luncheons to millionaires, so you sign for this one; and then we'll
+start for Cape May."
+
+"Are you mad?" I demanded; "do you think I'd sell my honor!"
+
+"For five million dollars?" cried Spencer. "Don't make me laugh! If they
+want a REAL novelist for a son they can adopt me!"
+
+I replied with dignity that I would not disgrace the memory of my
+parents.
+
+"You have disgraced them!" retorted Spencer, "with your Musketeer novels
+for infants. You need money. To get it you may be tempted to write more
+novels. Here's your chance! Stop robbing the public, and lead an honest
+life. Think of all the money you could give to the poor, think of all
+the money you and I could lose at Monte Carlo!"
+
+When he found I would not charter an auto-mobile and at once pursue the
+Farrells he changed his tactics. If I would not go to Cape May, then, he
+begged, I would go to Fairharbor. He asked that I would, at least, find
+out what I was refusing. Before making their offer, for six months, the
+Farrells had had me "looked up," but, without knowing anything of them,
+after a talk of ten minutes I had turned them down. "Was that," he
+asked, "intelligent? Was it fair to the Farrells?" He continued to tempt
+me.
+
+"They told you to think it over," he persisted. "Very well, then, think
+it over at Fairharbor! For the next three weeks the Farrells will be at
+Cape May. The coast is clear. Go to Fairharbor as somebody else and be
+your own detective. Find out if what they tell you is true. Get inside
+information. Get inside Harbor Castle. Count the eighteen bedrooms and
+try the beds. Never mind the art gallery, but make sure there is a wine
+cellar. You can't start too soon, and I WILL GO WITH YOU!"
+
+I told him where he could go.
+
+We then tossed to see who should pay for the lunch and who should tip
+the head waiter. I lost and had to tip the head waiter. We separated,
+and as I walked down the Avenue, it seemed as though to the proprietor
+of every shop I passed I owed money. Owing them the money I did not so
+much mind; what most distressed me was that they were so polite about
+it. I had always wanted to reward their patience. A favorite dream of
+mine was to be able to walk down Fifth Avenue, my pockets stuffed with
+yellow bills, paying off my debts. Compared with my steadily decreasing
+income, how enormous my debts appeared; but when compared with the
+income of a man worth--say-five million dollars, how ridiculous! I had
+no more than reached my apartment, than a messenger-boy arrived with an
+envelope. It contained a ticket for a round trip on the New Bedford Line
+boat leaving that afternoon, a ticket for a stateroom, and a note from
+Curtis Spencer. The latter read: "The boat leaves at six to-night.
+You arrive at New Bedford seven to-morrow morning. New Bedford and
+Fairharbor are connected by a bridge. CROSS IT!"
+
+I tore the note in tiny fragments, and tossed them through the open
+window. I was exceedingly angry. As I stood at the window adding to the
+name of Curtis Spencer insulting aliases, the street below sent up hot,
+stifling odors: the smoke of taxicabs, the gases of an open subway, the
+stale reek of thousands of perspiring, unwashed bodies. From that one
+side street seemed to rise the heat and smells of all New York. For
+relief I turned to my work-table where lay the opening chapters of
+my new novel, "The White Plume of Savoy." But now, in the light
+of Spencer's open scorn, I saw it was impudently false, childish,
+sentimental. My head ached, the humidity sapped my strength, at heart
+I felt sick, sore, discouraged. I was down and out. And seeing this,
+Temptation, like an obsequious floorwalker, came hurrying forward.
+
+"And what may I show you to-day?" asked Temptation. He showed me the
+upper deck of the New Bedford boat feeling her way between the green
+banks of the Sound. A cool wind swept past me bearing clean, salty
+odors; on the saloon deck a band played, and from the darkness the
+lighthouses winked at me, and in friendly greeting the stars smiled.
+Temptation won. In five minutes I was feverishly packing, and at
+five-thirty I was on board. I assured myself I had not listened to
+Temptation, that I had no interest in Fairharbor. I was taking the trip
+solely because it would give me a night's sleep on the Sound. I promised
+myself that on the morrow I would not even LOOK toward Harbor Castle;
+but on the evening following on the same boat, return to New York.
+Temptation did not stop to argue, but hastened after another victim.
+
+I turned in at nine o'clock and the coolness, and the salt air, blessed
+me with the first sleep I had known in weeks. And when I woke we were
+made fast to the company's wharf at New Bedford, and the sun was well
+up. I rose refreshed in body and spirit. No longer was I discouraged.
+Even "The White Plume of Savoy" seemed a perfectly good tale of
+romance and adventure. And the Farrells were a joke. Even if I were at
+Fairharbor, I was there only on a lark, and at the expense of Curtis
+Spencer, who had paid for the tickets. Distinctly the joke was on Curtis
+Spencer. I lowered the window screen, and looked across the harbor. It
+was a beautiful harbor. At ancient stone wharfs Jay ancient whalers
+with drooping davits and squared yards, at anchor white-breasted yachts
+flashed in the sun, a gray man-of-war's man flaunted the week's laundry,
+a four-masted schooner dried her canvas, and over the smiling surface of
+the harbor innumerable fishing boats darted. With delight I sniffed
+the odors of salt water, sun-dried herring, of oakum and tar. The shore
+opposite was a graceful promontory crowned with trees and decorous
+gray-shingled cottages set in tiny gardens that reached to the very edge
+of the harbor. The second officer was passing my window and I asked what
+the promontory was called.
+
+"Fairharbor," he said. He answered with such proprietary pride and
+smiled upon Fairharbor with such approval that I ventured to guess it
+was his home.
+
+"That's right," he said; "I used to live at the New York end of the
+run-in a flat. But never again! No place for the boy to play but in the
+street. I found I could rent one of those old cottages over there for
+the same money I paid for the flat. So I cut out New York. My boy lives
+in a bathing suit now, and he can handle a catboat same as me. We have
+a kitchen garden, and hens, and the fishermen here will give you all
+the fish you can carry away--fish right out of the water. I guess I've
+smashed the high cost of living problem all right. I wouldn't go back to
+living in New York now--not if they gave me the PILGRIM."
+
+As though trying to prod my memory, I frowned. It was my conception of
+the part of a detective. "Hasn't Fletcher Farrell," I asked, "a house in
+Fairharbor?"
+
+"Harbor Castle," said the mate promptly. "It's on the other side of the
+point I'd as soon live in a jail!"
+
+"Why?" I exclaimed.
+
+But he was no longer listening. He pointed at the shore opposite.
+
+"See that flag running up the staff in that garden?" he cried. "That's
+my boy signalling. I got to get to the boat deck and wave back!"
+
+I felt as a detective. I had acquired important information. The mate,
+a man of judgment, preferred Fairharbor to New York. Also, to living in
+Harbor Castle, he preferred going to jail.
+
+The boat on which I had arrived was listed to start back at six the same
+evening on her return trip to New York. So, at the office of the line I
+checked my valise, and set forth to explore New Bedford.
+
+The whaling vessels moored to a nearby wharf, I inspected from hatches
+to keels, and by those on board was directed to a warehouse where were
+stored harpoons, whalebone, and wooden figure-heads. My pleasure in
+these led to my being passed on to a row of "antique" shops filled with
+relics of the days of whaling and also with genuine pie-crust tables,
+genuine flint-lock muskets, genuine Liverpool pitchers. I coveted
+especially old-time engravings of the whalers, and was told at
+Hatchardson's book-store on the main street others could be found in
+profusion.
+
+Hatchardson's proved to be a place of great delight. As you entered
+there were counters for magazines and post-cards, popular music, and
+best-selling novels, while in the rear of the shop tables and shelves
+were stocked with ancient volumes, and on the wall surrounding them hung
+engravings, prints and woodcuts of even the eighteenth century. Just as
+the drugstore on the corner seemed to be a waiting station for those
+of New Bedford who used the trolley-cars, so for those who moved in
+automobiles, or still clung to the family carriage, Hatchardson's
+appeared to be less a shop than a public meeting-place. I noticed that
+the clerks, most of whom were women, were with the customers on a most
+friendly footing, addressing them, and by them being addressed by name.
+Finding I was free to wander where I pleased, I walked to the rear of
+the shop and from one of the tables picked up a much-worn volume. It was
+entitled "The Log of the JOLLY POLLY", and was illustrated with wood cuts
+showing square-rigged ships and whales Spouting. For five minutes, lost
+to my Surroundings, I turned the pages; and then became conscious that
+across the table some one was watching me. I raised my eyes and beheld a
+face of most surprising charm, intelligence and beauty. It was so lovely
+that it made me wince. The face was the fortune, and judging from the
+fact that in her hand she held a salesbook, the sole fortune, of a tall
+young girl who apparently had approached to wait on me. She was looking
+toward the street, so that, with the book-shelves for a back-ground, her
+face was in profile, and I determined swiftly that if she were to wait
+on me she would be kept waiting as long as my money lasted. I did not
+want "The Log of the JOLLY POLLY," but I did want to hear the lovely
+lady speak, and especially I desired that the one to whom she spoke
+should be myself.
+
+"What is the price of this?" I asked. With magnificent self-control I
+kept my eyes on the book, but the lovely lady was so long silent that I
+raised them. To my surprise, I found on her face an expression of
+alarm and distress. With reluctance, and yet within her voice a certain
+hopefulness, she said, "Fifty dollars."
+
+Fifty dollars was a death blow. I had planned to keep the young lady
+selling books throughout the entire morning, but at fifty dollars a
+book, I would soon be owing her money. I attempted to gain time.
+
+"It must be very rare!" I said. I was afraid to look at her lest my
+admiration should give offense, so I pretended to admire the book.
+
+"It is the only one in existence," said the young lady. "At least, it is
+the only one for sale!"
+
+We were interrupted by the approach of a tall man who, from his playing
+the polite host and from his not wearing a hat, I guessed was Mr.
+Hatchardson himself. He looked from the book in my hand to the lovely
+lady and said smiling, "Have you lost it?"
+
+The girl did not smile. To her, apparently, it was no laughing matter.
+"I don't know--yet," she said. Her voice was charming, and genuinely
+troubled.
+
+Mr. Hatchardson, for later I learned it was he, took the book and showed
+me the title-page.
+
+"This was privately printed in 1830," he said, "by Captain Noah Briggs.
+He distributed a hundred presentation copies among his family and
+friends here in New Bedford. It is a most interesting volume."
+
+I did not find it so. For even as he spoke the young girl, still with a
+troubled countenance, glided away. Inwardly I cursed Captain Briggs and
+associated with him in my curse the polite Mr. Hatchardson. But, at his
+next words my interest returned. Still smiling, he lowered his voice.
+
+"Miss Briggs, the young lady who just left us," he said, "is the
+granddaughter of Captain Briggs, and she does not want the book to go
+out of the family; she wants it for herself." I interrupted eagerly.
+
+"But it is for sale?" Mr. Hatchardson reluctantly assented.
+
+"Then I will take it," I said.
+
+Fifty dollars is a great deal of money, but the face of the young lady
+had been very sad. Besides being sad, had it been aged, plain, and
+ill-tempered, that I still would have bought the book, is a question I
+have never determined.
+
+To Mr. Hatchardson, of my purpose to give the book to Miss Briggs, I
+said nothing. Instead I planned to send it to her anonymously by mail.
+She would receive it the next morning when I was arriving in New York,
+and, as she did not know my name, she could not possibly return it.
+At the post-office I addressed the "Log" to "Miss Briggs, care of
+Hatchardson's Bookstore," and then I returned to the store. I felt I
+had earned that pleasure. This time, Miss Briggs was in charge of the
+post-card counter, and as now a post-card was the only thing I could
+afford to buy, at seeing her there I was doubly pleased. But she was
+not pleased to see me. Evidently Mr. Hatchardson had told her I had
+purchased the "Log" and at her loss her very lovely face still showed
+disappointment. Toward me her manner was distinctly aggrieved.
+
+But of the "Log" I said nothing, and began recklessly purchasing
+post-cards that pictured the show places of New Bedford. Almost the
+first one I picked up was labelled "Harbor Castle. Residence of Fletcher
+Farrell." I need not say that I studied it intently. According to the
+post-card, Harbor Castle stood on a rocky point with water on both
+sides. It was an enormous, wide-spreading structure, as large as a
+fort. It exuded prosperity, opulence, extravagance, great wealth. I felt
+suddenly a filial impulse to visit the home of my would-be forefathers.
+
+"Is this place near here?" I asked.
+
+Miss Briggs told me that in order to reach it I should take the ferry to
+Fairharbor, and then cross that town to the Buzzards Bay side.
+
+"You can't miss it," she said. "It's a big stone house, with red and
+white awnings. If you see anything like a jail in ruffles, that's it."
+
+It was evident that with the home I had rejected Miss Briggs was
+unimpressed; but seeing me add the post-card to my collection, she
+offered me another.
+
+"This," she explained, "is Harbor Castle from the bay. That is their
+yacht in the foreground."
+
+The post-card showed a very beautiful yacht of not less than two
+thousand tons. Beneath it was printed "HARBOR LIGHTS; steam yacht owned
+by Fletcher Farrell." I always had dreamed of owning a steam yacht, and
+seeing it stated in cold type that one was owned by "Fletcher Farrell,"
+even though I was not that Fletcher Farrell, gave me a thrill of guilty
+pleasure. I gazed upon the post-card with envy.
+
+"HARBOR LIGHTS is a strange name for a yacht," I ventured. Miss Briggs
+smiled.
+
+"Not for that yacht," she said. "She never leaves it."
+
+I wished to learn more of my would-be parents, and I wished to keep
+on talking with the lovely Miss Briggs, so, as an excuse for both, I
+pretended I was interested in the Farrells because I had something I
+wanted to sell them.
+
+"This Fletcher Farrell must be very rich," I said. "I wonder," I asked,
+"if I could sell him an automobile?" The moment I spoke I noticed that
+the manner of Miss Briggs toward Me perceptibly softened. Perhaps, from
+my buying offhand a fifty-dollar book she had thought me one of the
+rich, and had begun to suspect I was keeping her waiting on me only
+because I found her extremely easy to look at. Many times before, in a
+similar manner, other youths must have imposed upon her, and perhaps,
+also, in concealing my admiration, I had not entirely succeeded.
+
+But, when she believed that, like herself, I was working for my living,
+she became more human.
+
+"What car are you selling?" she asked. "I am TRYING to sell," I
+corrected her, "the Blue Bird, six cylinder."
+
+"I never heard of it," said Miss Briggs.
+
+"Nor has any one else," I answered, with truth. "That is one reason why
+I can't sell it. I arrived here this morning, and," I added with pathos,
+"I haven't sold a car yet!"
+
+Miss Briggs raised her beautiful eyebrows skeptically. "Have you tried?"
+she said.
+
+A brilliant idea came to me. In a side street I had passed a garage
+where Photaix cars were advertised for hire. I owned a Phoenix, and
+I thought I saw a way by which, for a happy hour, I might secure the
+society of Miss Briggs.
+
+"I am an agent and demonstrator for the Phoenix also," I said glibly;
+"maybe I could show you one?"
+
+"Show me one?" exclaimed Miss Briggs. "One sees them everywhere! They
+are always under your feet!"
+
+"I mean," I explained, "might I take you for a drive in one?"
+
+It was as though I had completely vanished. So far as the lovely Miss
+Briggs was concerned I had ceased to exist. She turned toward a nice old
+lady.
+
+"What can I show you, Mrs. Scudder?" she asked cheerily; "and how is
+that wonderful baby?"
+
+I felt as though I had been lifted by the collar, thrown out upon a
+hard sidewalk, and my hat tossed after me. Greatly shaken, and mentally
+brushing the dust from my hands and knees, I hastened to the ferry and
+crossed to Fairharbor. I was extremely angry. By an utter stranger I
+had been misjudged, snubbed and cast into outer darkness. For myself I
+readily found excuses. If a young woman was so attractive that at the
+first sight of her men could not resist buying her fifty-dollar books
+and hiring automobiles in which to take her driving, the fault was hers.
+I assured myself that girls as lovely as Miss Briggs were a menace to
+the public. They should not be at large. An ordinance should require
+them to go masked. For Miss Briggs also I was able to make excuses. Why
+should she not protect herself from the advances of strange young men?
+If a popular novelist, and especially an ex-popular one, chose to go
+about disguised as a drummer for the Blue Bird automobile and behaved
+as such, and was treated as such, what right had he to complain? So
+I persuaded myself I had been punished as I deserved. But to salve my
+injured pride I assured myself also that any one who read my novels
+ought to know my attitude toward any lovely lady could be only
+respectful, protecting, and chivalrous. But with this consoling thought
+the trouble was that nobody read my novels.
+
+In finding Harbor Castle I had no difficulty. It stood upon a rocky
+point that jutted into Buzzards Bay. Five acres of artificial lawn and
+flower-beds of the cemetery and railroad-station school of horticulture
+surrounded it, and from the highroad it was protected by a stone wall so
+low that to the passerby, of the beauties of Harbor Castle nothing was
+left to the imagination. Over this wall roses under conflicting banners
+of pink and red fought fiercely. One could almost hear the shrieks
+of the wounded. Upon the least thorny of these I seated myself and in
+tender melancholy gazed upon the home of my childhood. That is, upon the
+home that might-have-been.
+
+When surveying a completed country home, to make the owner thoroughly
+incensed the correct thing to say is, "This place has great
+possibilities!"
+
+Harbor Castle had more possibilities than any other castle I ever
+visited. But in five minutes I had altered it to suit myself. I had
+ploughed up the flower-beds, dug a sunken garden, planted a wind screen
+of fir, spruce, and Pine, and with a huge brick wall secured warmth and
+privacy. So pleased was I with my changes, that when I departed I was
+sad and downcast. The boat-house of which Mrs. Farrell had spoken
+was certainly an ideal work-shop, the tennis-courts made those at
+the Newport Casino look like a ploughed field, and the swimming-pool,
+guarded by white pillars and overhung with grape-vines, was a cool
+and refreshing picture. As, hot and perspiring, I trudged back through
+Fairharbor, the memory of these haunted me. That they also tempted me,
+it is impossible to deny. But not for long. For, after passing through
+the elm-shaded streets to that side of the village that faced the
+harbor, I came upon the cottages I had seen from the New Bedford shore.
+At close range they appeared even more attractive than when pointed
+out to me by the mate of the steamboat. They were very old, very
+weather-stained and covered with honeysuckle. Flat stones in a setting
+of grass led from the gates to the arched doorways, hollyhocks rose
+above hedges of box, and from the verandas one could look out upon the
+busy harbor and the houses of New Bedford rising in steps up the sloping
+hills to a sky-line of tree-tops and church spires. The mate had told
+me that for what he had rented a flat in New York he had secured one of
+these charming old world homes. And as I passed them I began to pick out
+the one in which when I retired from the world I would settle down. This
+time I made no alterations. How much the near presence of Miss Briggs
+had to do with my determination to settle down in Fairharbor, I cannot
+now remember. But, certainly as I crossed the bridge toward New Bedford,
+thoughts of her entirely filled my mind. I assured my self this was
+so only because she was beautiful. I was sure her outward loveliness
+advertised a nature equally lovely, but for my sudden and extreme
+interest I had other excuses. Her in dependence in earning her living,
+her choice in earning it among books and pictures, her pride of family
+as shown by her efforts to buy the family heirloom, all these justified
+my admiration. And her refusing to go joy-riding with an impertinent
+stranger, even though the impertinent stranger was myself, was an act I
+applauded. The more I thought of Miss Briggs the more was I disinclined
+to go away leaving with her an impression of myself so unpleasant as
+the one she then held. I determined to remove it. At least, until I had
+redeemed myself, I would remain in New Bedford. The determination gave
+me the greatest satisfaction. With a light heart I returned to the
+office of the steamboat line and retrieving my suit-case started with it
+toward the Parker House. It was now past five o'clock, the stores were
+closed, and all the people who had not gone to the baseball game with
+Fall River were in the streets. In consequence, as I was passing the
+post-office, Miss Briggs came down the steps, and we were face to face.
+
+In her lovely eyes was an expression of mingled doubt and indignation
+and in her hand freshly torn from the papers in which I had wrapped it,
+was "The Log of the JOLLY POLLY." In action Miss Briggs was as direct
+as a submarine. At sight of me she attacked. "Did you send me this?" she
+asked.
+
+I lowered my bag to the sidewalk and prepared for battle. "I didn't
+think of your going to the post-office," I said. "I planned you'd get
+it to-morrow after I'd left. When I sent it, I thought I would never see
+you again."
+
+"Then you did send it!" exclaimed Miss Briggs. As though the book were
+a hot plate she dropped it into my hand. She looked straight at me, but
+her expression suggested she was removing a caterpillar from her pet
+rosebush.
+
+"You had no right," she said. "You may not have meant to be impertinent,
+but you were!"
+
+Again, as though I had disappeared from the face of the earth, Miss
+Briggs gazed coldly about her, and with dignity started to cross the
+street. Her dignity was so great that she glanced neither to the left
+nor right. In consequence she did not see an automobile that swung
+recklessly around a trolley-car and dived at her. But other people saw
+it and shrieked. I also shrieked, and dropping the suit-case and the
+"Log," jumped into the street, grabbed Miss Briggs by both arms, and
+flung her back to the sidewalk. That left me where she had been, and the
+car caught me up and slammed me head first against a telegraph pole.
+The pole was hard, and if any one counted me out I did not stay awake to
+hear him. When I came to I was conscious that I was lying on a sidewalk;
+but to open my eyes, I was much too tired. A voice was saying, "Do you
+know who he is, Miss?"
+
+The voice that replied was the voice of the lovely Miss Briggs. But now
+I hardly recognized it. It was full of distress, of tenderness and pity.
+
+"No, I don't know him," it stammered. "He's a salesman--he was in the
+store this morning--he's selling motor-cars." The first voice laughed.
+
+"Motor-cars!" he exclaimed. "That's why he ain't scared of 'em. He
+certainly saved you from that one! I seen him, Miss Briggs, and he most
+certainly saved your life!"
+
+In response to this astonishing statement I was delighted to hear a
+well-trained male chorus exclaim in assent.
+
+The voices differed; some spoke in the accents of Harvard, pure and
+undefiled, some in a "down East" dialect, others suggested Italian
+peanut venders and Portuguese sailors, but all agreed that the life of
+Miss Briggs had been saved by myself. I had intended coming to, but
+on hearing the chorus working so harmoniously I decided I had better
+continue unconscious.
+
+Then a new voice said importantly: "The marks on his suitcase are 'F.
+F., New York."
+
+I appreciated instantly that to be identified as Fletcher Farrell meant
+humiliation and disaster. The other Fletcher Farrells would soon return
+to New Bedford. They would learn that in their absence I had been spying
+upon the home I had haughtily rejected. Besides, one of the chorus
+might remember that three years back Fletcher Farrell had been a popular
+novelist and might recognize me, and Miss Briggs would discover I was
+not an automobile agent and that I had lied to her. I saw that I must
+continue to lie to her. I thought of names beginning with "F," and
+selected "Frederick Fitzgibbon." To christen yourself while your eyes
+are shut and your head rests on a curb-stone is not easy, and later I
+was sorry I had not called myself Fairchild as being more aristocratic.
+But then it was too late. As Fitzgibbon I had come back to life, and as
+Fitzgibbon I must remain.
+
+When I opened my eyes I found the first voice belonged to a policeman
+who helped me to my feet and held in check the male chorus. The object
+of each was to lead me to a drink. But instead I turned dizzily to Miss
+Briggs. She was holding my hat and she handed it to me. Her lovely eyes
+were filled with relief and her charming voice with remorse.
+
+"I--I can't possibly thank you," she stammered. "Are you badly hurt?"
+
+I felt I had never listened to words so original and well chosen. In
+comparison, the brilliant and graceful speeches I had placed on the lips
+of my heroines became flat and unconvincing.
+
+I assured her I was not at all hurt and endeavored, jauntily, to replace
+my hat. But where my head had hit the telegraph pole a large bump had
+risen which made my hat too small. So I hung it on the bump. It gave me
+a rakish air. One of the chorus returned my bag and another the "Log."
+Not wishing to remind Miss Briggs of my past impertinences; I guiltily
+concealed it.
+
+Then the policeman asked my name and I gave the one I had just invented,
+and inquired my way to the Parker House. Half the chorus volunteered to
+act as my escort, and as I departed, I stole a last look at Miss Briggs.
+She and the policeman were taking down the pedigree of the chauffeur
+of the car that had hit me. He was trying to persuade them he was
+not intoxicated, and with each speech was furnishing evidence to the
+contrary.
+
+After I had given a cold bath to the bump on my head and to the rest of
+my body which for the moment seemed the lesser of the two, I got into
+dry things and seated myself on the veranda of the hotel. With a cigar
+to soothe my jangling nerves, I considered the position of Miss Briggs
+and myself. I was happy in believing it had improved. On the morrow
+there was no law to prevent me from visiting Hatchardson's Bookstore,
+and in view of what had happened since last I left it, I had reason to
+hope Miss Briggs would receive me more, kindly. Of the correctness of
+this diagnosis I was at once assured. In front of the hotel a district
+messenger-boy fell off his bicycle and with unerring instinct picked
+me out as Mr. Fitzgibbon of New York. The note he carried was from Miss
+Briggs. It stated that in the presence of so many people it had been
+impossible for her to thank me as she wished for the service I had
+rendered her, and that Mrs. Cutler, with whom she boarded, and herself,
+would be glad if after supper I would call upon them. I gave the
+messenger-boy enough gold to enable him to buy a new bicycle and in my
+room executed a dance symbolizing joy. I then kicked my suit-case under
+the bed. I would not soon need it. Now that Miss Briggs had forgiven me,
+I was determined to live and die in New Bedford.
+
+The home of Mrs. Cutler, where Miss Briggs lodged and boarded, was in
+a side street of respectable and distinguished antiquity. The street
+itself was arched with the branches of giant elms, and each house was an
+island surrounded by grass, and over the porches climbed roses. It was
+too warm to remain indoors, so we sat on the steps of the porch, and
+through the leaves of the elms the electric light globe served us as a
+moon. For an automobile salesman I was very shy, very humble.
+
+Twice before I had given offense and I was determined if it lay with
+me, it would not happen again. I did not hope to interest Miss Briggs
+in myself, nor did I let it appear how tremendously I was interested
+in her. For the moment I was only a stranger in a strange land making
+a social call. I asked Miss Briggs about New Bedford and the whaling,
+about the books she sold, and the books she liked. It was she who
+talked. When I found we looked at things in the same way and that the
+same things gave us pleasure I did not comment on that astonishing fact,
+but as an asset more precious than gold, stored it away. When I returned
+to the hotel I found that concerning Miss Briggs I had made important
+discoveries. I had learned that her name was Polly, that the JOLLY POLLY
+had been christened after her grandmother, that she was an orphan, that
+there were relatives with whom she did not "hit it off," that she was
+very well read, possessed of a most charming sense of humor, and that I
+found her the most attractive girl I had ever met.
+
+The next morning I awoke in an exalted frame of mind. I was in love with
+life, with New Bedford, and with Polly Briggs. I had been in love before
+but never with a young lady who worked in a shop, and I found that
+loving a lady so occupied gives one a tremendous advantage. For when you
+call she must always be at home, nor can she plead another engagement.
+So, before noon, knowing she could not deny herself, I was again at
+Hatchardson's, purchasing more postal-cards. But Miss Briggs was not
+deceived. Nor apparently was any one else. The BEDFORD MERCURY had told
+how, the previous evening, Frederick Fitzgibbon, an automobile salesman
+from New York, had been knocked out by an automobile while saving Miss
+Polly Briggs from a similar fate; and Mr. Hatchardson and all the old
+ladies who were in the bookstore making purchases congratulated me. It
+was evident that in Miss Briggs they took much more than a perfunctory
+interest. They were very fond of her. She was an institution; and I
+could see that as such to visitors she would be pointed out with pride,
+as was the new bronze statue of the Whaleman in Court House Square. Nor
+did they cease discussing her until they had made it quite clear to me
+that in being knocked out in her service I was a very lucky man. I did
+not need to be told that, especially as I noted that Miss Briggs was
+anxious lest I should not be properly modest. Indeed, her wish that in
+the eyes of the old ladies I should appear to advantage was so evident,
+and her interest in me so proprietary, that I was far from unhappy.
+
+The afternoon I spent in Fairharbor. From a real estate agent I obtained
+keys to those cottages on the water-front that were for rent, and I
+busied myself exploring them. The one I most liked I pretended I had
+rented, and I imagined myself at work among the flower-beds, or with
+my telescope scanning the shipping in the harbor, or at night seated
+in front of the open fire watching the green and blue flames of the
+driftwood. Later, irresolutely, I wandered across town to Harbor Castle,
+this time walking entirely around it and coming upon a sign that read,
+"Visitors Welcome. Do not pick the flowers."
+
+Assuring myself that I was moved only by curiosity, I accepted the
+invitation, nor, though it would greatly have helped the appearance of
+the cemetery-like beds, did I pick the flowers. On a closer view Harbor
+Castle certainly possessed features calculated to make an impecunious
+author Stop, look, and listen. I pictured it peopled with my friends. I
+saw them at the long mahogany table of which through the French window
+I got a glimpse, or dancing in the music-room, or lounging on the wicker
+chairs on the sweeping verandas. I could see them in flannels at tennis,
+in bathing-suits diving from the spring-board of the swimming pool,
+departing on excursions in the motor-cars that at the moment in front
+of the garage were being sponged and polished, so that they flashed like
+mirrors. And I thought also of the two-thousand-ton yacht and to what
+far countries, to what wonderful adventures it might carry me.
+
+But all of these pictures lacked one feature. In none of them did
+Polly Briggs appear. For, as I very well knew, that was something the
+ambitions of Mrs. Farrell would not permit. That lady wanted me as a son
+only because she thought I was a social asset. By the same reasoning,
+as a daughter-in-law, she would not want a shop-girl, especially not one
+who as a shop-girl was known to all New Bedford. My mood as I turned my
+back upon the golden glories of Harbor Castle and walked to New Bedford
+was thoughtful.
+
+I had telegraphed my servant to bring me more clothes and my Phoenix
+car; and as I did not want him inquiring for Fletcher Farrell had
+directed him to come by boat to Fall River. Accordingly, the next
+morning, I took the trolley to that city, met him at the wharf, and sent
+him back to New York. I gave him a check with instructions to have it
+cashed in that city and to send the money, and my mail, to Frederick
+Fitzgibbon. This ALIAS I explained to him by saying I was gathering
+material for an article to prove one could live on fifty cents a day.
+He was greatly relieved to learn I did not need a valet to help me prove
+it.
+
+I returned driving the Phoenix to New Bedford, and as it was a Saturday,
+when the store closed at noon, I had the ineffable delight of taking
+Polly Briggs for a drive. As chaperons she invited two young friends of
+hers named Lowell. They had been but very lately married, and regarded
+me no more than a chauffeur they had hired by the hour. This left Polly
+who was beside me on the front seat, and myself, to our own devices.
+Our devices were innocent enough. They consisted in conveying the
+self-centred Lowells so far from home that they could not get back for
+supper and were so forced to dine with me. Polly, for as Polly I now
+thought of her, discovered the place. It was an inn, on the edge of a
+lake with an Indian name. We did not get home until late, but it had
+been such a successful party that before we separated we planned another
+journey for the morrow. That one led to the Cape by way of Bourne and
+Wood's Hole, and back again to the North Shore to Barnstable, where we
+lunched. It was a grand day and the first of others just as happy. After
+that every afternoon when the store closed I picked up the Lowells; and
+then Polly, and we sought adventures. Sometimes we journeyed no farther
+than the baseball park, but as a rule I drove them to some inn for
+dinner, where later, if there were music, we danced, if not, we returned
+slowly through the pine woods and so home by the longest possible route.
+The next Saturday I invited them to Boston. We started early, dined at
+the Touraine and went on to a musical comedy, where I had reserved seats
+in the front row. This nearly led to my undoing. Late in the first act
+a very merry party of young people who had come up from Newport and
+Narragansett to the Coates-Islip wedding filled the stage boxes and
+at sight of me began to wave and beckon. They were so insistent that
+between the acts I thought it safer to visit them. They wanted to know
+why I had not appeared at the wedding, and who was the beautiful girl.
+
+The next morning on our return trip to New Bedford Polly said, "I read
+in the papers this morning that those girls in that theatre party last
+night were the bridesmaids at the Coates-Islip wedding. They seemed to
+know you quite well."
+
+I explained that in selling automobiles one became acquainted with many
+people.
+
+Polly shook her head and laughed. Then she turned and looked at me.
+
+"You never sold an automobile in your life," she said.
+
+With difficulty I kept my eyes on the road; but I protested vigorously.
+
+"Don't think I have been spying," said Polly; "I found you out quite by
+accident. Yesterday a young man I know asked me to persuade you to turn
+in your Phoenix and let him sell you one of the new model. I said
+you yourself were the agent for the Phoenix, and he said that, on the
+contrary, HE was, and that you had no right to sell the car in his
+TERRITORY." I grinned guiltily and said:
+
+"Well, I HAVEN'T sold any, have I?"
+
+"That is not the point," protested Polly. "What was your reason for
+telling me you were trying to earn a living selling automobiles?"
+
+"So that I could take you driving in one," I answered.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Polly.
+
+There was a pause during which in much inward trepidation I avoided
+meeting her eyes. Then Polly added thoughtfully, "I think that was a
+very good reason."
+
+In our many talks the name of the Fletcher Farrells had never been
+mentioned. I had been most careful to avoid it. As each day passed, and
+their return imminent, and in consequence my need to fly grew more near,
+and the name was still unspoken, I was proportionately grateful. But
+when the name did come up I had reason to be pleased, for Polly spoke
+it with approval, and it was not of the owner of Harbor Castle she was
+speaking, but of myself. It was one evening about two weeks after we
+had met, and I had side-stepped the Lowells and was motoring with Polly
+alone. We were talking of our favorite authors, dead and alive.
+
+"You may laugh," said Polly, and she said it defiantly, "and I don't
+know whether you would call him among the dead or the living, but I am
+very fond of Fletcher Farrell!"
+
+My heart leaped. I was so rattled that I nearly ran the car into a stone
+wall. I thought I was discovered and that Polly was playing with me. But
+her next words showed that she was innocent. She did not know that the
+man to whom she was talking and of whom she was talking were the same.
+"Of course you will say," she went on, "that he is too romantic, that he
+is not true to life. But I never lived in the seventeenth century, so
+I don't know whether he is true to life or not. And I like romance. The
+life I lead in the store gives me all the reality I want. I like to read
+about brave men and great and gracious ladies."
+
+"I never met any girls like those Farrell write about, but it's nice to
+think they exist. I wish I were like them. And, his men, too--they make
+love better than any other man I ever read about."
+
+"Better than I do?" I asked.
+
+Polly gazed at the sky, frowning severely. After a pause, and as though
+she had dropped my remark into the road and the wheels had crushed it,
+she said, coldly, "Talking about books----"
+
+"No," I corrected, "we were talking about Fletcher Farrell."
+
+"Then," said Polly with some asperity, "don't change the subject. Do you
+know," she went on hurriedly, "that you look like him--like the pictures
+of him--as he was."
+
+"Heavens!" I exclaimed, "the man's not dead!"
+
+"You know what I mean," protested Polly. "As he was before he stopped
+writing."
+
+"Nor has he stopped writing," I objected; "his books have stopped
+selling." Polly turned upon me eagerly.
+
+"Do you know him?" she demanded. I answered with caution that I had met
+him.
+
+"Oh!" she exclaimed, "tell me about him!"
+
+I was extremely embarrassed. It was a bad place. About myself I could
+not say anything pleasant, and behind my back, as it were, I certainly
+was not going to say anything unpleasant. But Polly relieved me of the
+necessity of saying anything.
+
+"I don't know any man," she exclaimed fervently, "I would so like to
+meet!"
+
+It seemed to me that after that the less I said the better. So I told
+her something was wrong with the engine and by the time I had pretended
+to fix it, I had led the conversation away from Fletcher Farrell as a
+novelist to myself as a chauffeur.
+
+The next morning at the hotel, temptation was again waiting for me. This
+time it came in the form of a letter from my prospective father-in-law.
+It had been sent from Cape May to my address in New York, and by my
+servant forwarded in an envelope addressed to "Frederick Fitzgibbon."
+
+It was what in the world of commerce is called a "follow-up" letter. It
+recalled the terms of his offer to me, and improved upon them. It made
+it clear that even after meeting me Mr. Farrell and his wife were still
+anxious to stand for me as a son. They were good enough to say they had
+found me a "perfect gentleman." They hoped that after considering their
+proposition I had come to look upon it with favor.
+
+As his son, Mr. Farrell explained, my annual allowance would be the
+interest on one million dollars, and upon his death his entire fortune
+and property he would bequeath to me. He was willing, even anxious, to
+put this in writing. In a week he would return to Fairharbor when he
+hoped to receive a favorable answer. In the meantime he enclosed a
+letter to his housekeeper.
+
+"Don't take anything for granted," he urged, "but go to Fairharbor and
+present this letter. See the place for yourself. Spend the week there
+and act like you were the owner. My housekeeper has orders to take her
+orders from you. Don't refuse something you have never seen!"
+
+This part of the letter made me feel as mean and uncomfortable as a
+wet hen. The open, almost too open, methods of Mr. Farrell made my own
+methods appear contemptible. He was urging me to be his guest and I
+was playing the spy. But against myself my indignation did not last.
+A letter, bearing a special delivery stamp which arrived later in the
+afternoon from Mrs. Farrell turned my indignation against her, and with
+bitterness. She also had been spying. Her letter read:
+
+The Pinkerton I employed to report on you states that after losing you
+for a week he located you at New Bedford, that you are living under
+the name of Fitzgibbon, and that you have made yourself conspicuous by
+attentions to a young person employed in a shop. This is for me a
+great blow and disappointment, and I want you to clearly understand Mr.
+Farrell's offer is made to you as an unmarried man. I cannot believe
+your attentions are serious, but whether they are serious or not, they
+must cease. The detective reports the pair of you are now the talk of
+Fairharbor. You are making me ridiculous. I do not want a shop-girl for
+a daughter-in-law and you will either give up her acquaintance or give
+up Harbor Castle!
+
+I am no believer in ultimatums. In attaining one's end they seldom prove
+successful. I tore the note into tiny pieces, and defiantly, with Polly
+in the seat beside me, drove into the open country. At first we picked
+our way through New Bedford, from the sidewalks her friends waved to
+her, and my acquaintances smiled. The detective was right. We had indeed
+made ourselves the talk of the town, and I was determined the talk must
+cease.
+
+We had reached Ruggles Point when the car developed an illness. I got
+out to investigate. On both sides of the road were tall hemlocks and
+through them to the west we could see the waters of Sippican Harbor in
+the last yellow rays of the sun as it sank behind Rochester. Overhead
+was the great harvest moon.
+
+Polly had taken from the pocket of the car some maps and guide-books,
+and while I lifted the hood and was deep in the machinery she was
+turning them over.
+
+"What," she asked, "is the number of this car? I forget."
+
+As I have said, I was preoccupied and deep in the machinery; that
+is, with a pair of pliers I was wrestling with a recalcitrant wire.
+Unsuspiciously I answered: "Eight-two-eight."
+
+A moment later I heard a sharp cry, and raised my head. With eyes wide
+in terror Polly was staring at an open book. Without appreciating my
+danger I recognized it as "Who's Who in Automobiles." The voice of Polly
+rose in a cry of disbelief.
+
+"Eight-two-eight," she read, "owned by Fletcher Farrell, Hudson
+Apartments, New York City." She raised her eyes to mine.
+
+"Is that true?" she gasped. "Are you Fletcher Farrell?" I leaned into
+the car and got hold of her hand.
+
+"That is not important," I stammered. "What is important is this: Will
+you be Mrs. Fletcher Farrell?"
+
+What she said may be guessed from the fact that before we returned to
+New Bedford we drove to Fairharbor and I showed her the cottage I liked
+best. It was the one with the oldest clapboard shingles, the oldest box
+hedge, the most fragrant honeysuckles, and a lawn that wet its feet in
+the surf. Polly liked it the best, too.
+
+By now the daylight had gone, and on the ships the riding lights were
+shining, but shining sulkily, for the harvest moon filled the world with
+golden radiance. As we stood on the porch of the empty cottage, in the
+shadow of the honeysuckles, Polly asked an impossible question. It was:
+
+"How MUCH do you love me?"
+
+"You will never know," I told her, "but I can tell you this: I love you
+more than a two-thousand-ton yacht, the interest on one million dollars,
+and Harbor Castle!"
+
+It was a wasteful remark, for Polly instantly drew away.
+
+"What DO you mean?" she laughed.
+
+"Fletcher Farrell of Harbor Castle," I explained, "offered me those
+things, minus you. But I wanted you."
+
+"I see," cried Polly, "he wanted to adopt you. He always talks of that.
+I am sorry for him. He wants a son so badly." She sighed softly, "Poor
+uncle!"
+
+"Poor WHAT!" I yelled.
+
+"Didn't you know," exclaimed Polly, "that Mrs. Farrell was a Briggs! She
+was my father's sister."
+
+"Then YOU," I said, "are the relation who was 'too high and mighty'!"
+Polly shook her head.
+
+"No," she said, "I didn't want to be dependent."
+
+"And you gave up all that," I exclaimed, "and worked at Hatchardson's,
+just because you didn't want to be dependent!"
+
+"I like my uncle-in-law very much," explained Polly, "but not my aunt.
+So, it was no temptation. No more," she cried, looking at me as though
+she were proud of me, "than it was to you."
+
+In guilty haste I changed the subject. In other words, I kissed her. I
+knew some day I would have to confess. But until we were safely married
+that could wait. Before confessing I would make sure of her first. The
+next day we announced our engagement and Polly consented that it should
+be a short one. For, as I pointed out, already she had kept me waiting
+thirty years. The newspapers dug up the fact that I had once been a
+popular novelist, and the pictures they published of Polly proved her so
+beautiful that, in congratulation, I received hundreds of telegrams. The
+first one to arrive came from Cape May. It read:
+
+My dear boy, your uncle elect sends his heartiest congratulations to
+you and love to Polly. Don't make any plans until you hear from me--am
+leaving to-night. FLETCHER FARRELL.
+
+In terror Polly fled into my arms. Even when NOT in terror it was a
+practice I strongly encouraged.
+
+"We are lost!" she cried. "They will adopt us in spite of ourselves.
+They will lock us up for life in Harbor Castle! I don't WANT to be
+adopted. I want YOU! I want my little cottage!"
+
+I assured her she should have her little cottage; I had already bought
+it. And during the two weeks before the wedding, when I was not sitting
+around Boston while Polly bought clothes, we refurnished it. Polly
+furnished the library, chiefly with my own books, and "The Log of
+the JOLLY POLLY." I furnished the kitchen. For a man cannot live on
+honeysuckles alone. My future uncle-in-law was gentle but firm.
+
+"You can't get away from the fact," he said, "that you will be my nephew,
+whether you like it or not. So, be kind to an old man and let him give
+the bride away and let her be married from Harbor Castle."
+
+In her white and green High Flier car and all of her diamonds, Mrs.
+Farrell called on Polly and begged the same boon. We were too happy to
+see any one else dissatisfied; so though we had planned the quietest of
+weddings, we gave consent. Somehow we survived it. But now we recall
+it only as that terrible time when we were never alone. For once in the
+hands of our rich relations the quiet wedding we had arranged became a
+royal alliance, a Field of the Cloth of Gold, the chief point of attack
+for the moving-picture men.
+
+The youths who came from New York to act as my ushers informed me that
+the Ushers' Dinner at Harbor Castle-from which, after the fish course,
+I had fled--was considered by them the most successful ushers' dinner in
+their career of crime. My uncle-in-Law also testifies to this. He ought
+to know. At four in the morning he was assisting the ushers in throwing
+the best man and the butler into the swimming-pool.
+
+For our honeymoon he loaned us the yacht. "Take her as far as you like,"
+he said. "After this she belongs to you and Polly. And find a better
+name for her than Harbor Lights. It sounds too much like a stay-at-home.
+And I want you two to see the world." I thanked him, and suggested he
+might rechristen her the JOLLY POLLY.
+
+"That was the name," I pointed out, "of the famous whaler owned by
+Captain Briggs, your wife's father, and it would be a compliment to
+Polly, too."
+
+My uncle-in-law-elect agreed heartily; but made one condition:
+
+"I'll christen her that," he said, "if you will promise to write a new
+Log of the JOLLY POLLY." I promised. This is it.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Log of The "Jolly Polly", by 
+Richard Harding Davis
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