The clover fields along the harbor shore were whitening in the western wind, and Captain Jim had one of his finest sunsets on exhibition.

He himself had just returned from a trip over the harbor.
"I had to go over and tell Henry Pollack he was dying.

Everybody else was afraid to tell him.

They expected he'd take on turrible, for he's been dreadful determined to live, and been making no end of plans for the fall.

His wife thought he oughter be told and that I'd be the best one to break it to him that he couldn't get better.