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Tom Gallon
A Novel
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Great excursions were planned in those early days of Comethup’s life. It was a wonderful thing to see Comethup do what no other living creature in the town dared do so boldly—open the gate of the captain’s garden, and march straight up the trim little path which led to the front door of the house. He had been taught, when an expedition was afoot, to be punctual to the minute; and he always found the captain coming out of the cottage as he reached it, glancing generally at his watch with a quick nod of approval. Then would the captain, with hat a-tilt and cane swinging, and with pride in his heart, sally forth with Comethup to make new discoveries on a prearranged plan. For the old town, which had once been a mere resting-place for the captain’s declining years, took on a new aspect, when viewed through the eyes of this child.
It was an old town—a beautiful old town; the captain read up a complete history of it, and proved—to Comethup’s entire satisfaction as well as to his own—that something extraordinary had happened in nearly every house it contained. It had been a town of great deeds; had once touched the sea, and had helped to defend that part of the coast line during some of the country’s stormiest times. The sea had long since retreated, and left the little place lying high and dry, to sleep in peace, and dream about its deeds.
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