Sheila of Big Wreck Cove

Sheila of Big Wreck Cove, by
James A. Cooper

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Title: Sheila of Big Wreck Cove A Story of Cape Cod
Author: James A. Cooper
Release Date: January 2, 2005 [EBook #14563]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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SHEILA OF BIG WRECK COVE A Story of Cape Cod
By JAMES A. COOPER

AUTHOR OF "Tobias o' the Light," "Cap'n Jonah's Fortune" "Cap'n
Abe, Storekeeper," etc.
WITH FRONTISPIECE BY R. EMMETT OWEN
A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York
Published by arrangement with George Sully & Company Printed in
U.S.A.
COPYRIGHT, 1921 (AS A SERIAL)
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY
[Frontispiece: "Come here and look at this craft, Prudence." Page 11
(Sheila of Big Wreck Cove.)]

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
CAP'N IRA AND PRUE II. THE CAPTAIN OF THE SEAMEW III.
THE QUEEN OF SHEBA IV. AT THE LATHAM HOUSE V.
LOOKING FOR IDA MAY VI. AN UNSATISFACTORY
INTERVIEW VII. AT THE RESTAURANT VIII. SHEILA IX. A
GIRL'S STORY X. THE PLOT XI. AT BIG WRECK COVE XII. A
NEW HAND AT THE HELM XIII. SOME YOUNG MEN APPEAR
XIV. THE HARVEST HOME FESTIVAL XV. AN INVITATION
ACCEPTED XVI. MEMORIES--AND TUNIS XVII. AUNT
LUCRETIA XVIII. IDA MAY THINKS IT OVER XIX. THE
ARRIVAL XX. THE LIE XXI. AT SWORDS' POINTS XXII. A
WAY OUT XXIII. A CALL UNANNOUNCED XXIV. EUNEZ
PARETA XXV. TO LOVE AND BE LOVED XXVI. ELDER
MINNETT HAS HIS SAY XXVII. CAP'N IRA SPEAKS OUT
XXVIII. GONE XXIX. ON THE TRAIL XXX. THE STORM XXXI.
BITTER WATERS XXXII. A GIRL TO THE RESCUE XXXIII. A
HAVEN OF REST

CHAPTER I
CAP'N IRA AND PRUE
Seated on this sunshiny morning in his old armchair of bent hickory,
between his knees a cane on the head of which his gnarled hands rested,
Captain Ira Ball was the true retired mariner of the old school. His
ruddy face was freshly shaven, his scant, silvery hair well smoothed;
everything was neat and trig about him, including his glazed,
narrow-brimmed hat, his blue pilot-cloth coat, pleated shirt front as
white as snow, heavy silver watch chain festooned upon his waist-coat,
and blue-yarn socks showing between the bottom of his full, gray
trouser legs and his well-blacked low shoes.
For Cap'n Ira had commanded passenger-carrying craft in his day, and
was a bit of a dandy still. The niceties of maritime full dress were as
important to his mind now that he had retired from the sea to spend his
remaining days in the Ball homestead on Wreckers' Head as when he
had trod the quarter-deck of the old Susan Gatskill, or had occupied the
chief seat at her saloon table.
"I don't know what's to become of us," repeated Cap'n Ira, wagging a
thoughtful head, his gaze, as that of old people often is, fixed upon a
point too distant for youthful eyes to see.
"I can't see into the future, Ira, any clearer than you can," rejoined his
wife, glancing at his sagging, blue-coated shoulders with some gentle
apprehension.
She was a frail, little, old woman, one of those women who, after a
robust middle age, seem gradually to shrivel to the figure of what they
were in their youth, but with no charm of girlish lines remaining. Her
face was wrinkled like a russet apple in February, and it had the
colorings of that grateful fruit. She sat on the stone slab which served
for a back door stoop peeling potatoes.
"I swan, Prue, you cut me in two places this mornin' when you shaved
me," said Cap'n Ira suddenly and in some slight exasperation. "And I

can't handle that dratted razor myself."
"Maybe you could get John-Ed Williams to come over and shave you,
Ira."
"John-Ed's got his work to do. Then again, how're we going to pay him
for such jobs? I swan! I can't afford a vally, Prue. Besides, you need
help about the house more than I need a steward. I can get along
without being shaved so frequent, I s'pose, but there's times when you
can't scurce lift a pot of potatoes off the stove."
"Oh, now, Ira, I ain't so bad as all that!" declared his wife mildly.
"Yes, you be. I am always expecting you to fall down, or hurt yourself
some way. And as for looking out for the