Wits' End

The tide was half way out, and the rocks were already showing strange shaggy shapes as the water retreated from their weed-draped sides. A man, who had just beached his dory and...

The small steamer, after winding a tortuous way from island to island, at last turned into the little cove, which made a safe harbor for the fishermen of Fielding's Island. Ther...

Although Miss Elliott fretted over the delay and was impatient to get into her cottage it was not ready until after the middle of June, and then it was a matter of hard work to...

Kenneth Hilary was not an old friend, nor indeed was he more than a chance acquaintance, since he and Gwen had met but twice, once at a tea and again in a railway station when a...

"He is one Cephas Mitchell, age a little over thirty I should judge; height five feet nine, or thereabouts; complexion, uncertain; eyes, pale greenish blue; hair, mouse-color; w...

A hot sun glared upon the long highroad, warmed the rocks along shore and beat upon the pebbly stretch below the bluff. Yet a fresh breeze from the sea cooled the faces of the t...

The two girls watched the men as they went off, and then established themselves in porch chairs for a good talk. "It is a nice situation," began Ethel, "but one can't live on vi...

This was not the last talk that Kenneth and Luther Williams had together, for often the older man would come upon the younger, sitting before his sketching easel or with color-b...

It was warm and quiet in Miss Phosie's kitchen. The teakettle, as it simmered on the big stove, sang a gentle tune. On the braided mat, of various hues, slept Cap'n Ben's dog, T...

To Kenneth's disappointment he found that Cephas Mitchell had already arrived when he made his appearance at Wits' End. It was evident that having once lost an opportunity by be...

True to her word, Gwen did not appear in public that evening. She was not seen in her usual place on the rocks, nor did she go to the post-office for the mail, and Cephas Mitche...

Miss Elliott was right. The next morning a soft gray mist enveloped the island, pearling each separate blade of grass and gemming each twig and leaf with tiny brilliants. The co...

The fog shut down again the next day, for the uncertain wind veered around again to the southeast, and for several days the weather was capricious. At last it seemed to settle a...

Miss Phosie nodded. "I'm happy to say he has. Maybe Ora'll take an interest in something and somebody else, now. I was hoping she'd feel inclined to stay at Bangor with her cous...

There was an air of suppressed gaiety and subdued exultation in Ethel Fuller's manner when she met Gwen that evening at Cottage Hall where a concert was going on. She was rather...

But there was no happy talk with Luther Williams the next day, for sad news came to the island, and at Cap'n Ben's house there was a grief-stricken girl, widowed while scarcely...

Within a week most of the summer cottages were boarded up and closed for the winter. Only a few lights still twinkled out at night along shore. The crickets sang in the dry gras...

"It is getting too lonely for three women to be down here on this point by themselves," remarked Miss Elliott one morning after a three days' storm during which they had scarcel...

"You are Lewis Whitridge! Yes, yes, I have thought so, but I put the idea away, for it seemed beyond reason when there seemed little doubt of his having been dead for years. Lew...

It was mid June, and the dwellers on Fielding's Island were making ready for "the season." The sharp winds, which even in May, sometimes nipped the buds on Cap'n Ben's apple-tre...