Your mother died in bed, your father died in bed, and your grandfather died in bed.” Captain Baker kept on sailing, and he, bless his heart, also died in bed.
“All right, Miss Willie, but don’t you ever go to bed again. Your grandfather was lost at sea, your father was lost at sea, and your brother was lost at sea.” Miss Willie Cotter, a cousin, who was very fond of Captain Baker, worried about his winter trips and finally called on him and said, “Captain David, I feel it is my duty to warn you to give up taking the mail to Newport. His brothers never let him forget that episode and many times in life asked him, “Where’s your shoe, Nick?” Then he humbly begged his father for his shoe and grate- fully put it on. Come along just the same.” Captain Baker picked up poor Nicky’s shoe, and for two days Nick travelled one shoe off and one shoe on, in the bitter weather. He told his father his foot hurt him, so he couldn’t make the trip. One winter day he decided he had worked long enough and needed a rest. Nick, the oldest, grew fast and was always tired, as most overgrown boys are. The boys were all very tall and fine looking. For years my grandfather sailed the packet carrying the mail from Wickford, a village on Narragansett Bay, over to Newport, on the other side of the bay, and all his boys, as they grew old enough, helped him. “I was always glad to get back from Europe,” she says, “to Wickford, where things were happening.”-The Editors But a lady who has known the town well since 1885 has written for us a considerably more lively account of it. According to the gazetteer, Wickford, Rhode Island (pop., 2,437), ” noted chiefly for its fine eighteenthcentury buildings, for its oyster and lobster fisheries, and for the manufacture of elastic braid.
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