"I ain't crazy," declared Captain Obed. "I can see you think I am, but
I ain't. Thankful, I--Oh, thunderation! What is the matter with me?
Thankful, let ME take care of you, will you?"
Thankful rose to her feet. "Obed Bangs!" she exclaimed.
"I mean it. I've been meanin' it more and more ever since I first met
you, but I ain't had the spunk to say it. Now I'm goin' to say it if I
keel over on the last word. Thankful, why don't you marry me?"
Thankful was speechless. The captain plunged desperately on.
"Will you, Thankful?" he begged. "I know I'm an old codger, but I ain't
in my second childhood, not yet. I--I'd try mighty hard to make you
happy. I haven't got anybody of my own in the world. Neither have
you--except this brother of yours, and, judgin' from his letter and what
you say, HE won't take any care; he'll BE a care, that's all. I ain't
rich, but I've got money enough to help you--and him--and me afloat and
comf'table. Thankful, will you?"
Thankful was still looking at him. He would have spoken again, but she
raised her hand and motioned him to silence.
"Obed," she asked, after a moment, "what made you say this to me?"
"What made me say it? What kept me still so long, you ought to ask.
Haven't I come to think more and more of you ever since I knew you?
Haven't I been more and more sorry for you? And pitied you? I--"
She raised her hand again. "I see," she said, slowly. "I see. Thank
you, Obed. You're so kind and self-sacrificin' you'd do anything or say
anything to help a--friend, wouldn't you? But of course you can't do
this.
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