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Updated: June 19, 2025
The oysters, roasted, broiled, or stewed, and likewise the clams, were all that could have been asked of them. Bread there was in abundance; and all things were going finely, till Mrs. Kinzer asked her son, as his fire-red face showed itself at the kitchen-door, "Dabney, you've not sent in your vegetables. We're waiting for them."
It was heard and understood away there in the parlor of the Morris house, and brought every soul of that anxious circle right up standing. "Must be it's Dab!" exclaimed Mrs. Kinzer. "O mother!" said Annie, "is Ford safe?" "They wouldn't cheer like that, my dear, if any thing had happened," remarked Mr.
"The storm may not be over," growled Ford a little sulkily. "Oh!" said Annie, "Mrs. Kinzer adds that the weather will surely be fine after 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 said nothing.
Kinzer being any thing less than the mistress of any house she might happen to be in; but Dabney laid down his knife and fork, with "It's all right, then. If Ham and Miranda are to settle it, I think I'll take the room Sam has now. You needn't take away your books, Sam: I may want to read some of them, or lend them to Annie. You and Kezi and Mele had better take that upper room back.
Dab Kinzer and his friend were prompt enough coming to the rescue of their unfortunate fellow-lubber; but to get him out of the queer wreck he had made of that punt looked like a tough task to both of them, and they said as much. "I isn't drownin'," exclaimed Dick heroically, as the other boat was pulled alongside of him. "Jest you take your scoop-net, and save dem crabs."
His mother was making some purchases in the store, and Dab was thinking how the Morris house would look when it was finished; and it was at him the old farmer was pointing in answer to a question which had just been asked him. The questioner was the sharp-eyed boy who had bothered poor Dick Lee that morning, and he was now evidently making a sort of "study" of Dab Kinzer.
Kinzer excused his thinness, to her neighbors, to be sure, on the ground that he was "such a growing boy;" but, for all that, he caught himself wondering, now and then, if he would never be done with that part of his trials. For rapid growth has its trials. "The fact is," he said to himself one day, as he leaned over the north fence, "I'm more like Ham Morris's farm than I am like ours.
Lee as well as her husband was on the beach; and within a minute after "Captain Kinzer" and his crew had landed, poor Dick was being hugged and scolded within an inch of his life, and the two other boys found themselves in the midst of a perfect tumult of embraces and cheers.
"On'y, you jist mind wot yer about!" said his mother, "and see't you keep dem clo'es from gettin' wet. I jist can't 'foard to hab dem spiled right away." The fault with Dab Kinzer's old suit, after all, had lain mainly in its size rather than its materials; for Mrs. Kinzer was too good a manager to be really stingy.
Right down nice furniture it is, too; but there's so much of it. I'm afraid the minister'll have to stand out in the front yard." "The house'll do for this time," replied Mrs. Kinzer. "There 'll be room enough for everybody. What puzzles me is Dab." "What about Dab?" asked Ham. "Can't find a thing to fit him," said Dab's mother. "Seems as if he were all odd sizes, from head to foot."
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