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"From Labe Ginn," he observed. "Nobody else in Scarford that I know would spell Daniel with two 'l's and no 'i. What's troublin' Laban? Somethin' about the house, I presume likely." He leisurely tore open the envelope. The letter was a lengthy one, scrawled upon a half dozen sheets of cheap note paper. The handwriting was almost as unique as the spelling, which is saying considerable.
"No, I don't, Grandmother. Do you think there is anything wrong?" "I know there's somethin' troublin' him. I've lived with him too many years not to know the signs. Oh, Albert you haven't done anything to displease him, have you?" "No, indeed, Grandmother. Whatever it is, it isn't that." When they reached the office, the captain spoke to Mr. Keeler. "Had your dinner, Labe?" he asked.
But what is it, Labe?" "I want to talk. Want to talk, I do. Yes, yes, yes. Saw you go by and I've been waitin' for you. Waitin' yes, I have yes." He seized his assistant by the arm and led him across the road toward the shoe store. Albert felt the hand on his arm tremble violently. "Are you cold, Labe?" he asked. "What makes you shiver so?" "Eh? Cold? No, I ain't cold no, no, no. Come, Al, come."
The old woman, who was the mother of queen Labe, and had instructed her in all her magic secrets, had no sooner embraced her daughter, than to shew her fury, she in an instant by whistling, caused to rise a genie of a gigantic form and stature.
"Why!" she exclaimed; "who oh, my soul! "Hello, Zuby!" roared her husband, rising to greet her. "How be you, old gal?" Before she could speak or move he seized her in his arms, squeezed her to him, and pressed a kiss like the report of a fire-cracker upon her cheek. "How be you, Zuby?" he repeated. "Oh, Labe!" gasped Azuba. "Labe!" "I'm Labe, all right.
Abdallah knew no common means would do with Queen Labe: he therefore whistled in a peculiar manner, and there immediately arose a giant, with four wings, who presenting himself before him, asked what he would have?"
Instead the pair greeted each other as if they had parted in that office at the close of business on the previous day. "Mornin', Cap'n Lote," said Laban, quietly. "Mornin', Labe," replied the captain, just as calmly. He went on and opened his own desk, leaving his grandson standing by the door, not knowing whether to speak or offer to shake hands.
He looked more as if he might be expected to rap on the desk and ask the school to come to order. "Albert's goin' to take hold here with us in the office," went on Captain Lote. "You'll remember I spoke to you about that when we talked about his comin'. Al, Labe Mr. Keeler here will start you in larnin' to bookkeep. He'll be your first mate from now on.
"I'll be hanged if it ain't a healthy note," he grumbled, "when the skipper has to go and apologize to the cook because the cook's made a fool of herself! I'd like to know what kind of rum Labe drinks. I never saw any but his kind that would go to somebody else's head. Two people gettin' tight and only one of 'em drinkin' is somethin' " He disappeared into the kitchen, still muttering. Mrs.
I did so . . . I'm much obliged to you, Al. I shan't forget it no, no. I cal'late you can trot along home now, if you want to. I'm pretty safe for to-night, anyhow. Guess likely the new recruit won't desert afore morning." But Albert, watching him intently, refused to go. "I'm going to stay for a while, Labe," he said. "I'm not a bit sleepy, really. Let's have a smoke and talk together.
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