Dab Kinzer: A Story of a Growing Boy

  CHAPTER XIX.

  A GRAND SAILING-PARTY, AND AN EXPERIMENT BY RICHARD LEE.

  That was a great day for the boys; but, before the close of it, FordFoster had told his friends the news that Joe Hart and his brother Fuzhad been invited to visit with him.

  "Will they come?" asked Dab.

  "Certainly. That kind of boy always comes. Nobody wants to keep him fromcoming."

  "When do you look for them?"

  "Right away. Vacation's almost gone, you know."

  "Won't they be ashamed to meet your sister?"

  "Not a bit. They'll try their tricks, even after they get here."

  "All right. We'll help 'em all we know how. But, boys, I'll tell youwhat we must try for."

  "What's that?"

  "One grand good sailing-party in 'The Swallow,' before they get here."

  "Hurrah for that! Annie was wishing for one, only yesterday."

  "We'll have all of your folks and all of ours. 'The Swallow' is plentybig enough."

  "Mother wouldn't go, and father can't just now. He's trying a case. Butthere's Annie and Frank and me"--

  "And my mother, and Ham and Miranda, and our girls. Ham'll go, sure.Then we must take Dick Lee along. It'd make him sick if we didn't."

  "Of course. Ain't I glad about him! Could we get ready and goto-morrow?"

  "Guess not so quick as that. We might by the day after, if the weather'sall right."

  Exactly. There is always a large-sized "if" to be put in, where anything depends on the weather, Mrs. Kinzer took the matter up withenthusiasm, and so did the girls, Miranda included; and Ford Foster wasquite right about his part of the company.

  But the weather!

  It looked well enough, to unpractised eyes; but Ham Morris shook hishead, and went to consult his fishermen friends. There was a good dealof head-shaking done thereupon; for every human barometer among themadvised him to wait a day or so, and hardly any two of them gave him thesame reason for doing it.

  Ford Foster was at the house when Ham made his report, and was a littlesurprised to see how promptly Dab Kinzer yielded his assent to theverdict.

  "Such warm, nice weather as this is," he remonstrated; "and there isn'tany wind to speak of."

  "There's too much of it coming," was Ham's response; and there was nohelp for it after that, not even when the mail brought word from "AuntMaria" that both of her dear boys would arrive in a day or two.

  "Our last chance is gone, Annie," said Ford, when the news came.

  "O mother!" she said despondingly, "what shall we do?"

  "Have your sail, just the same, and invite your cousins."

  "But the Kinzers"--

  "Why, Annie! Mrs. Kinzer will not think of neglecting them. She's askind as kind can be."

  "And we are to pay her with Joe and Fuz," said Ford. "Well, I wish HamMorris's storm would come along."

  He only had to wait until the next day for it, and he felt quitecontented to be safe on shore while it lasted. There was no call for anylaughter at the prophecies of the fishermen after it began to blow.Still the blow was not a long one, and Ham Morris remarked,--

  "This is only an outside edge of it. It's a good deal worse than thisout at sea. I'm glad we're not out in it."

  Ford Foster thought that about the worst of that weather was when theafternoon train came in, and he had to show a pair of tired, moist, andaltogether unpleasant cousins to the room set apart for them. The cloudsin his mind did not clear away perceptibly even when, just after supper,a note came in from Mrs. Kinzer, inviting the Hart boys to join theyachting-party next morning.

  "The storm may not be over," growled Ford a little sulkily.

  "Oh!" said Annie, "Mrs. Kinzer adds that the weather will surely be fineafter such a blow, and the bay will be quite safe and smooth."

  "Does she know the clerk of the weather?" asked Joe Hart.

  "Got one of her own," said Ford.

  Joe and Ford both found something to laugh at in that, but they saidnothing. They were both feeling a little "strange," as yet, and werealmost inclined to try and behave themselves; the main difficulty in theway of it being a queer idea they had that their ordinary way of doingthings made up a fair article of "good behavior." Nobody had taken thepains to bounce them out of the notion.

  When the morning really came, sea and earth and sky seemed to be all thebetter for the trial they had been through, and the weather was all thatMrs. Kinzer had prophesied of it. The grass and trees were greener, andthe bay seemed bluer; while the few clouds visible were very white andclean, as if all the storms had been recently washed out of them.

  There was no question now to be raised concerning the yachting-party, orany part of it. Not a single thing went wrong in Mrs. Kinzer'smanagement of the "setting out," and that was half the day won to beginwith. Ford had some difficulty in getting Joe and Fuz out of bed soearly as was necessary; but he gave them an intimation which provedquite sufficient:--

  "You'd better hop, boys. Ham Morris wouldn't wait five minutes for theQueen of England, or even for me."

  "Joe," whispered Fuz, a little while after they got on board the yacht,"are we to be gone a week?"

  "Why? What's up?"

  "Such piles of provisions as they've stowed away in that kennel!"

  The bit of a water-tight cabin under the half-deck, at which Fuzpointed, was pretty well filled, beyond a doubt; but Mrs. Kinzer knewwhat she was about. She had provided luncheon for most of that partybefore, and the effect on them of the sea-air was also to be taken intoaccount.

  "Dab," said Ford Foster, "you've forgotten to unhitch the 'Jenny,' Hereshe is, towing astern."

  "That's all right. We may need her. She's too heavy to be taken onboard."

  A careful fellow was Mr. Hamilton Morris, and he well knew the value ofa rowboat to a sea-going picnic-party. As for Joe and Fuz, they werecompelled to overcome a strong inward inclination to cast the boatloose. Such a good joke it would have been! But Ham Morris was in theway of it, so long as he stood at the tiller.

  "The Swallow" was steady enough to inspire even Annie Foster with afeeling of confidence; but Ford carefully explained to her thedifference between slipping over the little waves of the landlocked bay,and plunging into the gigantic billows of the stormy Atlantic.

  "I prefer this," said Annie.

  "But I wouldn't have missed the other for any thing," replied Ford."Would you, Dick?"

  Mr. Richard Lee had taken his full share in the work of starting, andhad made himself singularly useful; but, if all the rest had not been sobusy, they would surely have noticed his remarkable silence. Hardly aword had he uttered that anybody could remember; and, now he was forcedto say something, his mouth opened slowly, as if he had never tried tospeak before, and was not quite sure he knew how.

  "No--Mr.--Foster,--I--would--not--have--missed--that--trip--for--a--good--deal."

  Every word came out by itself, "afoot and alone," and as different fromDick's ordinary speech as a cut stone is from a rough one. Ham Morrisopened his eyes wide, and Ford puckered his lips into the shape of astill whistle; but Annie caught the meaning of it quicker than they did.

  "Dick," she said at once, "are we to fish to-day?"

  "May--be,--but--that--depends--on--Mr. Morris."

  Every word was slowly and carefully uttered, a good deal in the mannerof a man counting over a lot of money, and looking out sharp forcounterfeits.

  "Look here, Dick," suddenly exclaimed Dab Kinzer, "I give it up: you cando it. But don't you try to keep it up all day. Kill you, sure as anything, if you do."

  "Did I say 'em all right, Cap'n Dab?" anxiously inquired Dick, with ahappy look on his merry black face.

  "Every word," said Dab; "but it's well for you they were all short. Keepon practising."

  "I'll jes' do dat, shuah!"

  Practising? Dick?

  Yes, that was it; and he joined heartily in the peal of laughter withwhich the success of his first attempt at "w'ite folks' English" wasreceived by that
party.

  Dab explained, that, as soon as Dick found he was really to go to theacademy, he determined to teach his tongue new habits; and the wholecompany heartily approved, even while they joined Dab in advising himnot to attempt too much at a time.

  "You might sprain your tongue over a big word," said Ford.

  There was an abundance of talk and fun all around, as "The Swallow"skimmed onward; and the outlines of the long, low sand-island wererapidly becoming more distinct.

  Nearer they drew, and nearer.

  "Is that a light-house, away over there?" asked Annie of Dab.

  "Yes, that's a light-house; and there's a wrecking-station, close downby it."

  "A wrecking-station?"

  "I say," said Ford, "are there men there all the while? Are there manywrecks on this coast?"

  "Ever so many wrecks," said Dab, "and they keep a sharp lookout. Thereused to be more before there were so many light-houses. It was a badplace to go ashore in, too,--almost as bad as Jersey."

  "Why?"

  "Well, the coast itself is mean enough, for shoals and surf; and thenthere were the wreckers."

  "Oh! I understand," said Ford. "Not the Government men."

  "No, the old sort. It was a bad enough piece of luck to be driven in onthat bar, or another like it; but the wreckers made it as much worse asthey knew how to."

  They were all listening now, even his sisters; and Dabney launched outinto a somewhat highly-colored description of the terrors of theLong-Island "south shore," in old times and new, and of the characterand deeds of the men who were formerly the first to find out if anything or anybody had been driven ashore.

  "What a prize to them that French steamer would have been!" said Annie;"the one you and Ford took Frank from."

  "No, she wouldn't. Why, she wasn't wrecked at all. She only stuck hernose in the sand, and lay still till the tugs came and pulled her off.That isn't a wreck. A wreck is where the ship is knocked to pieces, andpeople are drowned, and all that sort of thing. The crew can't helpthemselves, after that. Then, you see, the wreckers have a notion thatevery thing that comes ashore belongs to them. Why, I've heard some ofour old fishermen--best kind of men too--talk of how Government hasrobbed them of their rights."

  "By the new system?" said Annie.

  "Well, first by having wrecks prevented, and then by having all propertykept for the owners."

  "Isn't that strange! Did you say they were good men?"

  "Some of 'em. Honest as the day is long about every thing else. But theyweren't all so. There was old Peter, now, and he lives on the islandyet. There's his cabin. You can just see it sticking out of the edge ofthat big sand-hill."

  "What a queer thing it is!"

  "Queer? I guess you'd say so, if you could have a look at the thingshe's picked up along shore, and stowed inside of it. There isn't butjust room for him to cook and sleep in."

  "Is he a fisherman too?"

  "Why, that's his trade. Sometimes the storms drift the sand high allover that cabin, and old Pete has to dig it out again. He gets snowedunder two or three times every winter."

  Annie Foster, and probably some of the others, were getting new ideasconcerning the sea-coast and its inhabitants, every minute; and she felta good deal like Dick Lee,--she "wouldn't have missed that trip for anything."

  They were now coasting along the island, at no great distance; and,although it was not nearly noon, Dabney heard Joe Hart say to hisbrother,--

  "Never was so hungry in all my life. Glad they did lay in a good stockof provisions."

  "So am I," returned Fuz; and he added in a whisper,

  "Isn't there any way for us to get into that cabin?"

  Joe shook his head. There was not the slightest chance for any smallpiracy to be worked on that craft, so long as Mrs. Kinzer remained the"stewardess" of it; and the two hungry boys were compelled to wait hermotions.