The Captain walked to the "Mariner's Home" with his guest, in order to question him regarding his future movements.
"Well, sir," said he, "I ain't as young as I was, an' I don't cal'ulate to go to sea no more.

I proposes to drop anchor here, an' hug the land until the old hulk goes to pieces.

I've got two or three thousand dollars in the locker, an' expects to get on uncommon comfortable without askin' no odds from the Assylum for Decayed Mariners." My grandfather indorsed the plan warmly, and Sailor Ben did drop anchor in Rivermouth, where he speedily became one of the institutions of the town.
His first step was to buy a small one-story cottage located at the head of the wharf, within gun-shot of the Nutter House.

To the great amusement of my grandfather, Sailor Ben painted the cottage a light sky-blue, and ran a broad black stripe around it just under the eaves.
In this stripe he painted white port-holes, at regular distances, making his residence look as much like a man-of-war as possible.

With a short flag-staff projecting over the door like a bowsprit, the effect was quite magical.