CHAPTER XXI.
DAB AND HIS FRIENDS TURN THEMSELVES INTO COOKS AND WAITERS.
As for the Kinzers, that was by no means their first experience in suchmatters; but none of their friends had ever before been so near anout-and-out shipwreck.
It is quite possible, moreover, that they had never before been sonearly starved as they were that day. At least, something to that effectwas remarked by Joe Hart and Fuz, more than a dozen times apiece, while"The Swallow" was threading the crooked inlet, and making her way to thelanding.
"Ham," said Dab, "are you going right back again?"
"Course I am,--soon as I can get a load of eatables together, from thehouse and the village. You'll have to stay here."
"Why can't I go with you?"
"Plenty for you to do at the house and around while I'm gone. No, youcan't go."
Dab seemed to have expected as much; for he turned to Ford with,--
"Then, Ford, I'll tell you what we must do."
"What's that?"
"We must see about the famine. Can you cook?"
"No."
"I can, then. Ham'll have one half of our house at work getting hiscargo ready, and that baby'll fill up the other half."
"Mother won't be expecting us so soon, and our cook's gone out for theday. Annie knows something."
"She can help me, then. Those Hart boys'll die if they're not fed prettysoon. Look at Fuz. Why, he can't keep his mouth shut."
Joe and his brother seemed to know as if by instinct that the dinnerquestion was under discussion, and they were soon taking at least theirshare of the talk. Oh, how they did wish it had been a share ofsomething to eat, instead!
"The Swallow" was carefully moored, after discharging her passengers;but Dab did not start for the house with his mother and the rest. Heeven managed to detain some of the empty lunch-baskets, large ones too.
"Come on, Mr. Kinzer," shouted Joe Hart. "Let's put for the village.We'll starve here."
"A fellow that'll starve here, just deserves to, that's all," saidDabney. "Ford, there's Bill Lee's boat and three others coming in. We'reall right. One of 'em's a dredger."
Ford and Frank could only guess what their friend was up to, but Dab wasnot doing any sort of guessing.
"Bill," he shouted, as Dick Lee's father came within hearing,--"Bill!put a lot of your best panfish in this basket, and then go and fetch ussome lobsters. There's half a dozen in your pot. Did those others haveany luck?"
"More clams'n 'ysters," responded Bill.
"Then we'll take both lots."
The respect of the city boys for the resources of the Long-Island shorein a time of famine began to rise rapidly a few moments later; for, notonly was one of Dab's baskets promptly laden with "panfish," such asporgies, blackfish, and perch, but two others received all the clams andoysters they were at all anxious to carry to the house. At the same timeBill Lee offered, as an amendment on the lobster question,--
"Yer wrong 'bout de pot, Dab."
"Wrong? Why"--
"Yes, you's wrong. Glorianny's been an' biled ebery one on 'em, an'dey're all nice an' cold by dis time."
"All right. I never did eat my lobsters raw. Just you go and get them,Dick. Bring 'em right over to Ford's house."
Bill Lee would have sent his house and all, on a suggestion that theKinzers or the Fosters were in need of it; and Dick would have carriedit over for him.
As for "Glorianna," when her son came running in with his errand, sheexclaimed,--
"Dem lobsters? Sho! Dem ain't good nuff. Dey sha'n't have 'em. I'll jes'send de ole man all roun' de bay to git some good ones. On'y dey isn'tno kine ob lobsters good nuff for some folks, dey isn't."
Dick insisted, however; and by the time he reached the back door of theold Kinzer homestead with his load, the kitchen beyond that door hadbecome almost as busy a place as was that of Mrs. Miranda Morris, a fewrods away.
"Ford," suddenly exclaimed Dab, as he finished scaling a large porgy,"what if mother should make a mistake!"
"Make a mistake! How?"
"Cook that baby. It's awful!"
"Why, its mother's there."
"Yes, but they've put her to bed, and its father too. Hey, here come thelobsters. Now, Ford"--
The rest of what he had to say was given in a whisper, and was not evenheard by Annie Foster, who was just then looking prettier than ever, asshe busied herself around the kitchen-fire. The bloom that was coming upinto her face was a sight worth seeing. As for the Hart boys, Mrs.Foster had invited them to come into the parlor and talk with her untildinner should be ready. She added, with her usual smile, that there werecooks enough in the kitchen.
Such a frying and broiling!
Before Ham Morris was ready with his cargo for his trip back to thewreck, and right in the midst of his greatest hurry, word came over fromMrs. Foster that "the table was waiting for them all."
Even Mrs. Kinzer drew a long breath of relief and satisfaction. Therewas nothing more in the wide world that she could do, just then, foreither "that baby" or its unfortunate parents; and she was beginning toworry about her son-in-law, and how she should manage to get him to eatsomething. For Ham Morris had worked himself into a high state ofexcitement, in his benevolent haste, and did not seem to know that hewas hungry. Miranda had entirely sympathized with her husband until thearrival of that message from Mrs. Foster.
"O Hamilton! And good Mrs. Foster must have cooked it all herself!"
"No, Miranda," said Ham thoughtfully. "Our Dabney went home with Fordand Annie. I can't stay more than a minute, but I think we'd better goright over. There's a good many things to come yet, from the village."
Go they did; while the charitable neighbors whom Ham had stirred upconcerning the wreck, attended to the completion of the cargo of "TheSwallow." More than that was true; for at least one other good andkind-hearted boat would be ready to accompany her on her return tripacross the bay, laden with creature comforts of all sorts.
Even old Jock, the village tavern-keeper, not by any means the best manin the world, had come waddling down to the landing with a demijohn ofold "apple-brandy;" and his gift had been kindly accepted, by thespecial advice of the village physician.
"That sort of thing has made plenty of shipwrecks around here," said theman of medicine; "and the people on the bar have swallowed so much saltwater, the apple-jack can't hurt 'em."
Maybe the doctor was wrong about it; but the demijohn went over to thewreck in "The Swallow," very much to the gratification of old Jock.
Mrs. Foster's dining-room was not a large one: there were no large roomsin that house. Nevertheless, the entire party managed to gather aroundthe table,--all except Dab and Ford.
"Dab is head cook, and I'm head waiter," had been Ford's explanation."Frank and the boys are company."
Certainly the cook had no cause to be ashamed of his work. The coffeewas excellent. The fish was done to a turn. The oysters, roasted,broiled, or stewed, and likewise the clams, were all that could havebeen asked of them. Bread there was in abundance; and all things weregoing finely, till Mrs. Kinzer asked her son, as his fire-red faceshowed itself at the kitchen-door,--
"Dabney, you've not sent in your vegetables. We're waiting for them."
Dab's face grew redder, and he came near dropping a plate he held in hishand.
"Vegetables? Oh, yes! Well, Ford, we might as well send them in now.I've got them all ready."
Annie opened her eyes, and looked hard at her brother; for she knew verywell that not so much as a potato had been thought of in theirpreparations. Ford himself looked a little queer; but he marched rightout, white apron and all. A minute or so later the two boys came inagain, each bearing aloft a huge platter.
One of these was solemnly deposited at each end of the table.
"Vegetables?"
"Why--they're lobsters!"
"O Ford! how could you?"
The last exclamation came from Annie Foster, as she clapped her handsover her face. Bright-red were th
ose lobsters, and fine-looking fellows,every one of them, in spite of Mrs. Lee's poor opinion; but they were alittle too well dressed, even for a dinner-party. Their thick shoulderswere adorned with collars of the daintiest material and finish, whileevery ungainly "flipper" wore a "cuff" which had been manufactured for adifferent kind of wrist.
There were plenty of cuffs and collars, and queer enough the lobsterslooked in them. All the queerer because every item of lace and linen wasvariegated with huge black spots and blotches, as if some one had begunto wash it in ink.
Joe and Fuz were almost as red as the lobsters; and Mrs. Foster's facelooked as severe as it could, but that is not saying a great deal. TheKinzer family knew all about those cuffs and collars, and Ham Morris andthe younger ladies were trying hard not to laugh.
"Joe," said Fuz snappishly, "can't you take a joke? Annie's got thelaugh on us this time."
"I?" exclaimed Annie indignantly: "no, indeed! That's some of Ford'swork, and Dabney's.--Mr. Kinzer, I'm ashamed of you."
Poor Dab!
He muttered something about those being all the vegetables he had, andretreated to the kitchen.
Joe and Fuz, however, were not of the sort that take offence easily; andthey were shortly helping themselves quite liberally to lobster, cuffsor no cuffs. That was all that was necessary to restore harmony at thetable, but Dab's plan for "punishing the Hart boys" was a completefailure.
As Ford told him afterwards:
"Feel it? Not they. You might as well try to hurt a clam with a pin."
"And I hurt your sister's feelings instead of theirs," said Dab. "Well,I'll never try any thing like it again. Anyhow, Joe and Fuz ain'tcomfortable they ate too many roasted clams and a good deal too muchlobster."
There was a certain degree of consolation to be had from such a fact asthat.