There were cooking utensils in the cabin sufficient for her modest
needs. She gave little John-Ed the dollar and her list and warned
him to hide her purchases safely until the next morning and bring
them to her on his way to school.
"What you going to eat to-night?" he asked her bluntly.
"I dug some clams at low water and caught a big horseshoe crab."
"Cousin Phineas brought us more squeteague than we can eat. Mom told
me to cut one up for the hens. I'll bring it down to you in a
little. It's a fresh one."
In spite of her refusal, he did this, and brought along, too, a box
of sweet crackers which he had bought and hidden away in his bedroom
closet in preparation for some time when he might wake up in the
night and feel that he was on the verge of famine.
"Though I never did wake up in the night that I can remember, 'cept
that time I had the toothache," he observed.
And in this way Sheila began her hermit life in the fisherman's
cabin.
But Sheila was not without a practical design as to her future. In
her determination to accept no further aid from the Balls she had
crippled her finances. Back in the inland town where she had spent
her girlhood, and where Dr. Macklin had served the community so
long, there were those who, in disapproving Sheila's venture into
the city, at least had a sense of justice.
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