The Woman-Haters
      Ezra was no longer assistant lightkeeper. He and his superior had quarreled two days before. The quarrel was the culmination, on Ezra's part, of a gradually developing “grouch” brought on by the loneliness of his surroundings. After a night of duty he had marched into the house, packed his belongings in a battered canvas extension case, and announced his intention of resigning from the service.     

       “To the everlastin' brimstone with the job!” he snarled, addressing Mr. Atkins, who, partially dressed, emerged from the bedroom in bewilderment and sleepy astonishment. “To thunder with it, I say! I've had all the gov'ment jobs I want. Life-savin' service was bad enough, trampin' the condemned beach in a howlin' no'theaster, with the sand cuttin' furrers in your face, and the icicles on your mustache so heavy you got round-shouldered luggin' 'em. But when your tramp was over, you had somebody to talk to. Here, by godfreys! there ain't nothin' nor nobody. I'm goin' fishin' again, where I can be sociable.”      

       “Humph!” commented Seth, “you must be lonesome all to once. Ain't my company good enough for you?”      

       “Company! A heap of company you are! When I'm awake you're asleep and snorin' and—”      

       “I never snored in my life,” was the indignant interruption     

       “What? YOU'LL snore when you're dead, and wake up the whole graveyard. Lonesome!” he continued, without giving his companion a chance to retort,       “lonesome ain't no name for this place. No company but green flies and them moskeeters, and nothin' to look at but salt water and sand and—and—dummed if I can think of anything else. Five miles from town and the only house in sight shut tight. When I come here you told me that bungalow was opened up every year—”      

       “So it has been till this season.”      

       “And that picnics come here every once in a while.”      

       “Don't expect picnickers to be such crazy loons as to come here in winter time, do you?”      

       “I don't know. If they're fools enough to come here ANY time, I wouldn't be responsible for 'em. There ain't so many moskeeters in winter. But just LOOK at this hole. Just put on your specs and LOOK at it! Not a 
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