Barnes had refrained from engaging an
East Wellmouth young woman to help in the kitchen.
"You could find one, of course," said the captain. "There's two or three
I could think of right off now who would probably take the job, but two
out of the three wouldn't be much account anyhow, and the only one that
would is Sarah Mullet and she's engaged to a Trumet feller. Now let
alone the prospect of Sarah's gettin' married and leavin' you 'most
any time, there's another reason for not hirin' her. She's the
everlastin'est gossip in Ostable County, and that's sayin' somethin'.
What Sarah don't know about everybody's private affairs she guesses and
she always guesses out loud. Inside of a fortnight she'd have all you
ever done and a whole lot you never thought of doin' advertised from
Race P'int to Sagamore. She's a reg'lar talkin' foghorn, if there was
such a thing--only a foghorn shuts down in clear weather and SHE don't
shut down, day or night. Talks in her sleep, I shouldn't wonder. If I
was you, Mrs. Barnes, I wouldn't bother with any help from 'round here.
I'd hire a girl from Boston, or somewheres; then you could be skipper of
your own ship."
Thankful, after thinking the matter over, decided that the advice was
good. The difficulty, of course, was in determining the "somewhere" from
which the right sort of servant, one willing to work for a small wage,
might be obtained. At length she wrote to a Miss Coffin, once a nurse in
Middleboro but now matron of an orphans' home in Boston.
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