since I was young and small I was allowed the seat next to Mr. Webster on the driver's box. How elated I felt as my tall father put me up there, and he whispered in my ear, "Remember this, my daughter: you are to drive five miles with Daniel Webster as your coachman!"
It was the most impressive and attractive thing about Mr, Webster that all his friends called him always "Daniel Webster." My coachman, who was dressed in a plain suit of gray, with a wide-awake hat and a loosely tied neckerchief of red, began immediately to make himself agreeable.
"So this is your first visit to the sea, Miss Wilson?" said he.
I could have told him that he was the first person to address me as "Miss" Wilson. I was not old enough for titles then.
And so he went on smiling and showing me his splendid teeth, which were as white and regular as a string of pearls, looking down on me with his great black eyes, which were fabulously handsome. He pointed out to me Seth Peterson, who was walking along the road, and who stopped to take some orders from his fellow-fisherman.
"You will eat to-day some fish which Seth and I caught this morning," said Mr. Webster.
I was frightened to death, but I made a lucky hit by asking what sort of fish were the easiest to catch.
He launched off on his favorite subject, and told me of the gamey bass and the reluctant cod and so on; when I again said:
"I suppose you enjoy the fish which are the hardest to catch, don't you, Mr. Webster?"
He looked round at me and laughed. "You are be-
