"Takes it nat'ral ag'in, don't he? Stands as easy as ef he was loafin'
on a wharf," said one of the observers. "Expect it's quite a treat to be
out. But they do say he's gittin' everybody's good opinion. They looked
for a regular ruffian when he come home--cuttin' nets, killin' cats,
chasin' hens, gittin' drunk. They say Eliphalet Wood didn't hardly dare
to go ou' doors for a month, 'thout havin' his hired man along. But he's
turned out as peaceful as a little gal."
One June day, as Eph was slitting bluefish at the little pier which he
had built on the bay-shore, near his rude ice-house, two men came up.
"Hallo, Eph!"
"Hallo."
"We've got about sick, tradin' down to the wharf; we can't git no fair
show. About one time in three, they tell us they don't want our fish,
and won't take 'em unless we'll heave 'em in for next to nothin',
and we know there ain't no sense in it. So we just thought we'd slip
down and see ef you wouldn't take 'em, seein's you've got ice, and send
'em up with yourn."
Eph was taken all aback with this mark of confidence. He would decline
the offer, sure that it sprang from some mere passing vexation.
"I can't buy fish," said he. "I have no scales to weigh 'em."
"Then send ourn in separate barrels," said one of them.
"But I haven't any money to pay you," he said. "I only get my pay once a
month.
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