There was a certain degree of consolation to be had from such a fact as that.
THE REAL MISSION OF THE JUG.
Ham Morris ate well, when he once got at it; but he did not linger long at the dinner-table, for his heart was in “The Swallow.” Dab would have given more than ever for the privilege of going with him. Not that he felt so dreadfully charitable, but that he did not care to prolong his stay at Mrs. Foster’s, as “cook” or otherwise. He had not by any means lost his appetite,—although he seemed disposed to neglect the lobsters; and when he had taken proper care of it he hurried away “on an errand for his mother,” in the direction of the village. Nearly everybody he met had some question or other to ask him about the wreck, and it was not to have been expected that Jenny Walters would let her old acquaintance pass her without a word or so.
Dab answered as well as he could, considering the disturbed state of his mind; but he wound up with,—
“Jenny, I wish you’d come over to our house by and by.”
“Oh! I’ve got something to show you—something you never saw before.”
“Do you mean your new baby? the one you found on the bar?”
“Yes, but that baby, Jenny!”
“What’s wonderful about it?”
“Why, it’s only two years old, and it can squall in two languages. That’s a good deal more than you can do.”
“They say your friend, Miss. Foster, speaks French,” retorted Jenny. “Was she ever shipwrecked?”
“In French? May be so; but not in German.”
“Well, Dabney, I don’t propose to squall in any thing. Are your folks going to burn any more of their barns this year?”
“Not unless Samantha gets married. Jenny, do you know what’s the latest fashion in lobsters?”
“Changeable green, I suppose.”
“No: I mean after they’re boiled. It’s to have ’em come on the table in cuffs and collars. Lace around their necks, you know.”
“No, not any gloves. We had lobsters to-day, at Mrs. Foster’s, and you ought to have seen ’em.”
“Dabney Kinzer, it’s time you went to school again.”
“I’m going, in a few days.”
“Going? Do you mean you’re going away somewhere?”
“Ever so far; and Dick Lee’s going with me.”
“I heard about him, but I didn’t know he meant to take you along. That’s very kind of Dick. I s’pose you won’t speak to common people when you get back.”
“Good-afternoon, Dabney. Perhaps I’ll come over before you go, if it’s only to take a look at that shipwrecked baby.”