"Centre-board?" he asked, at length.
"Yes," said Eph.
"Cat-rig?"
"Yes."
"Going fishing?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"I was brought up to sail a boat," said the doctor, "and I often go
fishing in summer, when I get a chance. I shall want to try your boat
some time."
No reply.
"The timbers are not seasoned, are they? They look like pitch-pine, just
out of the woods. Won't they warp?"
"No. Pitch-pine goes right in, green. I s'pose the pitch keeps it, if
it's out of the sun."
"Where did you cut it?"
Eph colored a little.
"In my back lot."
The doctor smoked on calmly, and studied the boat.
"I don't know you," said Eph, relaxing a little.
"Good reason," said the doctor. "I've only been here two years;" and
after a moment's pause, he added: "I am the doctor here, now. You've
heard of my father, Dr. Burt, of Broad River?"
Eph nodded assent; everybody knew him, all through the country;--a
fatherly old man, who rode on long journeys at everybody's call, and
never sent in his bills.
The visitor had a standing with Eph at once.
"Doctors never pick at folks," he said to himself--"at any rate, not old
Dr. Burt's son."
"I used to come here to see your mother," said the doctor, "when she was
sick. She used to talk a great deal about you, and said she wanted me to
get acquainted with you, when your time was out.
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