"Who gave 'im the message," replied Ezekiel slowly.
"Yes--who sent you to me ?" "Who sent yer--to--me ?" again repeated Ezekiel.

"Ipswich.

Crown and Anchor.

At once.

Wait till he comes." Then the old man's countenance cleared up, as if everything now must be perfectly satisfactory.
"Oh there is no use in trying to get any more out of him--he is too much fuddled," said Mistress Putnam impatiently.
"More rum--steady me!" mumbled Ezekiel.
"No, not a drop more," said Thomas Putnam peremptorily.