"IT'S getting to be a regular storm! What a lot of storms we have had lately, to be sure! Just hark to the wind," said Jessie Perkins. "And I do believe I can hear the waves down at the Point. I do believe I can." Miss Perkins sewed on solemnly. She was seated at the round deal table, with her shoulder towards the light. "Aunt Barbara, you just listen. . . Can't you hear the waves? I can! . . . Mrs. Mokes will have it that nobody's ever heard them as far off as this; but I know better. I've heard them many a time at night, when it's rough; and I declare I can now. You just hark!" "There isn't over much chance of anybody hearing anything, except your clapper, when you're in the room," Miss Perkins observed with severity. "But I stopped talking twice on purpose, and you wouldn't try to listen. There it is again-a regular boom!-as clear as can be. And it's getting so dark. I can't think how ever you can manage to see at all, away there at the table. It's all I can do to thread my needle here." "I'm not so desperate fond of staring out o' windows as some folks," snapped Miss Perkins.