Mrs.Armstrong had put up a lunch for them, and Jed had a bucket of clams, a kettle, a pail of milk, some crackers, onions and salt pork, the ingredients of a possible chowder.
"Little mite late for 'longshore chowder picnics, ma'am," he said, "but it's a westerly wind and I cal'late 'twill be pretty balmy in the lee of the pines.

Soon's it gets any ways chilly we'll be startin' home.

Wish you were goin' along, too." Mrs.Armstrong smiled and said she wished it had been possible for her to go, but it was not.

She looked pale that morning, so it seemed to Jed, and when she smiled it was with an obvious effort.
"You're not going without locking your kitchen door, are you, Mr.
Jed ?" she asked.
Jed looked at her and at the door.
"Why," he observed, "I ain't locked that door, have I! I locked the front one, the one to the shop, though.

Did you see the sign I tacked on the outside of it ?" "No, I didn't." "I didn't know but you might have.