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"Dodrabbit ye, Pharo!" he cried, struck with the new jacket; "ye've been to Boston!" "I hain't; hain't been nigh her for forty year," said Captain Pharo, but he was unconscionably pleased. "Dodrabbit ye, Pharo! ye've been a-junketin' around to Bar Harbor; that 's whar' ye been." "I hain't, Coffin; honest I hain't been nigh her," chuckled Captain Pharo.
Captain Pharo, with a countenance full of delight and sympathy, pulled his ruffled jacket down nearer to the waist line, and lit his pipe. "Dodrabbit ye, Pharo!" continued Uncle Coffin, and turned from his pet to me with another wink, "what are yer days like now? They ain't like the grass, are they?
"Dodrabbit ye!" said he; "you sly young dog, you!" "That's what I tell him!" rippled the deep-gurgling brook of Captain Leezur's voice; "we're jest like nateral twin-brothers. Only," he added tenderly and gravely, "he ain't nigh so ongodly as I use' ter be." "Ongodly!
"Dodrabbit ye, Pharo!" said Uncle Coffin, wirily folding his powerful arms; "keep yer seat, Pharo, and keep yer pipe. Ef any man from Boston, or any other man, wants ter take the pipe outer my mouth, or outer Pharo Kobbe's mouth, let 'im come on an' try it!"
"Dodrabbit ye, Pharo!" said Uncle Coffin, seizing the hat from his head and regarding its bespattered surface with delight; "ye've been a-whitewashin'!" This Captain Pharo proudly did not deny. "Dodrabbit ye, Pharo!" said our fond host, giving him another whirl, "yer hair 's pretty plumb 'fore, but she 's raked devilish well aft. Ye can't make no stand fer yerself!
Ye're hungry, Pharo; ye're wastin'; come along!" Uncle Coffin seized me on the way, but in voiceless appreciation of my physical meanness he supported me with one hand, while he affectionately mauled and whirled me with the other. "Dodrabbit ye! you young spark, you! whar' ye been all this time?" he cried though I had never gazed upon his face before!
That 's what I want to know," sending a thrill of close human fellowship down my back. "Didn't ye reckon as Salomy and me 'ud miss ye, dodrabbit ye! you young lawn-tennis shu's, you!" I glanced down at my feet. They were covered with a thick crust of buttermilk and meal.
"Dodrabbit ye, Pharo!" cried a voice from the fondest of the Artichokes, seizing him with an exultant pride which he affected to hide under derogatory language; "was that you I seen in there jest now, stompin' the frescoes off'n the ceilin'?"
"Dodrabbit ye, major!" said he, punching me with a vigorous hand, "don't ye take no interest in a man's stock? Come along out and look at the stock." At that I rose and followed him. Captain Pharo was waiting for us.
But Uncle Coffin was already leading the horse and carriage on to the barn floor. "Dodrabbit ye!" he exclaimed, "git out, or I'll shute ye out." At this invitation we began to descend with cheerful alacrity. As the horse walked into an evidently familiar stall, Uncle Coffin seized Captain Pharo and whirled him about with admiring affection.
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