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Updated: May 8, 2025
No, sah. He knows dat Tom Higbee's bound to go fo' him or leave de place, and Marse Jack wouldn't mind settlin' HIM too as well as his brudder, for de scores is agin' de Doomonts yet. And Marse Jack ain't no slouch wid a scatter gun."
"Are the New York girls so designing?" asked Percival. "Is Higbee's ham good to eat?" replied Higbee, oracularly.
At one end and towering another ten feet or so above the mammoth letters was a white-capped and aproned chef abandoning his mercurial French temperament to an utter frenzy of delight over a "Higbee's Ham" which had apparently just been vouchsafed to him by an invisible benefactor. "There, now!" exclaimed Higbee; "what do you call that I want to know hey?" "Great!
Then I got it down to 'Eat Higbee's Hams. That seemed short enough but after studying it, I says, What's the use of saying 'eat'? No one would think, I says, that a ham is to paper the walls with or to stuff sofa-cushions with so off comes 'eat' as being superfluous, and leaving it simple and dignified 'Higbee's Hams."
It would be done; it were ungraceful not to do it, after certain expressions; but it would be done with no heart because of the certain knowledge that no one at least no one to be desired could possibly care for him, or consider him even with interest for anything but his money the same kind of money Higbee made by purveying hams "and she wouldn't care in the least whether it was mine or Higbee's, so there was a lot of it."
As her chain was rattling through the hawse-hole, Percival, with his sister and Mauburn, came on deck. "Why, there's the Chicago Higbee's yacht." "That's the boat," said Mauburn, "that's been piling the white water up in front of her all afternoon trying to overhaul us." "There's Millie Higbee and old Silas, now." "And, as I live," exclaimed Psyche, "there's the Baron de Palliac between them!"
Higbee's opinion of the Milbreys also came back to him. "Sorry, old man, but I've a headache, so you must excuse me for to-night. But I'll tell you, we'll all come over in the morning and go for a dip with you." "Good! Stop for us at the Laurels, about eleven, or p'r'aps I'll stroll over and get you. I'm expecting some mail to be forwarded to this hotel."
Nor at the barbaric Higbee's should we have been vouchsafed, to treasure for our own, the knowledge that Mrs.
I advise you to go some'eres else." "Well," I asked, "where can I go?" "Danged if I know," he replied, "'lessen it 's to Kate Higbee's. She lives about six or seven miles west. She ain't been here long, but I guess you can't miss her place. Just jog along due west till you get to Red Gulch ravine, then turn north for a couple of miles. You'll see her cabin up against a cedar ridge.
My advertisin' man wanted it to be, first, 'Higbee's Hams, That's All. But, I don't know for so big a space that seemed to me kind of well kind of flippant and undignified.
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