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           Itightenedeverymuscleofmybody,particularlymyneckandjaw,anddoubledmyfistsonmybellyandIforcedhim,bleaklittleeyes,whitespikymustache,andtheforward-curvingshouldersthatprovedhehadoncebeenapowerfulmanofhisbodyandhadusedit.IevenmadehimputonthebluecapwiththeshortshinyvisorandthegoldHcontrivedoftwoanchors,thecaphehardlyeverwore.Theoldboywasreluctant,butImadehimcomeandIsethimonthecrumblingseawallofOldHarbornearthePlace.Isathimfirmlyonaheapofballaststoneandfixedhiscuppedhandsontheheadofthenarwhalcane.Thatcanecouldhaveknockedoveranelephant.

           "Ineedsomethingtohate.Beingsorryandunderstanding—that’spap.I’mlookingforarealhatetotaketheheatoff."

           Memory’saspawner.Startwithonecleardetailedprint,anditspringsintoactionanditcangoforwardorbacklikeafilm,onceitstarts.

           OldCap’nmoved.Hepointedwithhiscane."LinethethirdrockbeyondthebreakwaterwiththetipofPortyPointathighwater,thenoutthatlinehalfacable-lengthshelies,what’sleftofher."

           "Howfarishalfacable-length,sir?"

           "Howfar?Why,halfahundredfathom,ofcourse.Shewasanchoredtoswingandthetideflowing.Twobad-luckyears.Halftheoilcasksempty.Iwasashorewhenshecaughtfire,aboutmidnight.WhentheoilfiredshelitthetownlikemiddayandflamesrunningontheoilslickasfarasOspreyPoint.Couldn’tbeachherforfearofburningthedocks.Sheburnedtothewaterinanhour.