about eleven o'clock the steamer stopped. a dense fog had sprung up, which made it perilous to proceed. ben, who was a novice in traveling, got up to see what was the matter. he was on his way back to the stateroom, when he encountered a strange figure. the old lady was wandering about in dishabille, looking thoroughly alarmed.

recognizing ben, she clutched his arm.

"what has happened?" she asked, in a hollow voice, "is the ship sinkin'?"

"no, ma'am," answered ben. "we have only stopped on account of the fog."

"something may run into us," exclaimed the old lady. "oh, dear! i wish i had never left home."

"you'd better go back to bed," said ben soothingly. "there's no danger."

"no, i won't," said the old woman resolutely. "i'm not going to be drowned in my bed. i'll stay here till mornin'."

and she plumped down into an armchair, where she looked like an image of despair.

"hadn't you better put on something more?" suggested ben. "you may get cold."

"i'll put on my shawl and bunnit," said the old lady. "i can't sleep a wink. we shall be shipwrecked; i know we shall."

whether the old lady kept her word, or not, ben did not know. when he entered the saloon the next morning she was already up and dressed, looking haggard from want of sleep. ben ascertained that the boat had started again about five o'clock, and would probably reach fall river five or six hours late. this would make it necessary to take breakfast on board.

he imparted the news to the old lady.

"it's a shame," she said indignantly. "they did it a purpose to make us spend more money. i expected to eat breakfast at my son's house in boston."

"we shall not probably reach boston till noon, i hear."

"then suppose i'll have to buy somethin' to stay my stomach. it's a shame. it costs a sight to travel."

"so it does," acquiesced ben.

"they'd oughter give us our breakfast."

"i'm afraid they won't see it in that light."

the old lady went down to breakfast, and grudgingly paid out twenty cents more for tea and toast. she was in hopes ben would get some meat and offer her a portion; but he, too, felt the necessity of being economical, and ordered something less expensive.

prof. crane attempted to renew his phrenological examinations, but could only obtain two subjects.

"shan't i examine your head?' he asked insinuatingly of the old lady.

"no, you shan't," she answered tartly. "i don't want you pawing over me."

"don't you want me to describe your character?"

"no, i don't. like as not, you'd slander me."

"oh, no, ma'am; i should only indicate, by an examination of your bumps, your various tendencies and proclivities."

"i don't believe i've got any bumps."

"oh, yes, you have. we all have them. i shall only ask you twenty-five cents for an examination."

"i won't give it," said the old lady, resolutely clutching her purse, as if she feared a violent effort to dispossess her of it. "i can't afford it."

"it is a very small sum to pay for the knowledge of yourself."

"i guess i know myself better than you do," said the old lady, nodding her head vigorously. then, yielding to an impulse of curiosity: "say, mister, is it a pretty good business, examinin' heads?"

"it ought to be," answered the professor, "if the world were thoroughly alive to the importance of the noble science of phrenology."

"i don't see what use it is."

"let me tell you, then, ma'am. you have doubtless employed servants that proved unworthy of your confidence."

the old lady assented.

"now if you had employed a phrenologist to examine a servant's head before engaging her, he would have told you at once whether she was likely to prove honest and faithful, or the reverse."

"you don't say!" exclaimed the old lady, beginning to be impressed. "well, that would be something, i declare. now, there's mirandy jones, used to work for me—i'm almost certain she stole one of my best caps."

"to wear herself?" asked ben demurely.

"no, she wanted it for her grandmother. i'm almost sure i saw it on the old woman's head at the sewin' circle one afternoon. then, again, there was susan thompson. she was the laziest, sleepiest gal i ever see. why, one day i went into the kitchen, and what do you think? there she stood, in the middle of the floor, leanin' her head over her broom fast asleep."

"in both these cases phrenology would have enabled you to understand their deficiencies, and saved you from hiring them."

here a gentlemen whispered to prof. crane: "offer to examine the old woman's head for nothing. i will see you are paid."

the professor was not slow in taking the hint.

"madam," said he, "as my time just now isn't particularly valuable, i don't mind examining your head for nothing."

"will you?" said the old lady. "well, you're very polite and oblegin'. you may, if you want to."

prof. crane understood that a joke was intended, and shaped his remarks accordingly.

"this lady," he commenced, "is distinguished for her amiable disposition." here there was a smile visible on several faces, which, luckily, the old lady didn't see. "at the same time, she is always ready to stand up for her rights, and will not submit to be imposed upon."

"you're right there, mister," interjected the old lady, "as my son-in-law will testify. he tried to put upon me; but i soon let him know that i knew what was right, and meant to have it.

"my subject has a good taste for music, and would have been a superior performer if her talent had been cultivated. but her practical views would hardly have permitted her to spend much time in what is merely ornamental. she is a good housekeeper, and i may venture to remark that she understands cooking thoroughly."

the old lady—so potent is flattery—really began to look amiable.

"i wish old miss smith could hear you," she interrupted. "she's a vain, conceited critter, and purtends she can cook better than i can. if i couldn't make better pies that she had the last time the sewin' circle met at her house, i'd give up cookin', that's all."

"you see, gentlemen and ladies," said the professor, looking about him gravely, "how correct are the inductions of science. all that i have said thus far has been confirmed by my subject, who surely ought to know whether i am correct or not."

"this lady," he proceeded, "is fitted to shine in society. her social

sphere may have been limited by circumstances; but had her lot

been cast in the shining circles of fashion, her natural grace and

refinement would have enabled her to embellish any position to

which she might have been called."

the contrast between the old lady's appearance and the words of prof. crane was so ludicrous that ben and several others with difficulty, kept their countenances. but the old lady listened with great complacency.

"i wish my granddarter would hear you," she said. "she's a pert little thing, that thinks she knows more than her grandmother. i've often told my darter she ought to be more strict with her; but it don't do no good."

"it's the way with the young, madam. they cannot appreciate the sterling qualities of their elders."

when the examination was concluded, the old lady expressed her faith in phrenology.

"i never did believe in't before," she admitted, "but the man described me just as if he know'd me all my life. railly, it's wonderful."

prof. crane got his money, and with it the favor of the old lady to whom he had given such a first-class character. her only regret was that her friends at home could not have heard him.

about one o'clock in the afternoon the long journey was at an end, and ben and his young charge descended from the train in the south terminal, in boston.