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WHAT a world!" Still Captain Zelotes said nothing. His eyes were fixed upon the yellow sheet of paper on the desk before him. After a long minute he spoke. "Well," he said, very slowly, "well, Labe, there goes there goes Z. Snow and Company." The telegram from the War Department was brief, as all such telegrams were perforce obliged to be.
When you go to Wellmouth Port you get off the cars at Wellmouth Center and then take Labe Bearse's barge and ride four miles; and then, if the horse don't take a notion to lay down in the road and go to sleep, or a wheel don't come off or some other surprise party ain't sprung on you, you come to a place where there's a Baptist chapel that needs painting, and a little two-for-a-cent store that needs trade, and two or three houses that need building over, and any Lord's quantity of scrub pines and beach grass and sand.
Well, one evenin' Labe was comin' home pretty how-come-you-so, and he fell into Jonadab Wixon's well. Wonder he wa'n't killed, but he wa'n't, and they fished him out in a little while. He said that was the deepest well he ever saw; said he begun to think it reached clear through to the hereafter, and when he struck the water he was s'prised to find it wa'n't hot.
No, ma'am, you don't! You're above that, I cal'late. And I shan't ask Labe neither even if he was where I could ask him, which he ain't. Husbands! Don't talk to me about husbands! THEY don't count." Serena said that she would see what could be done and hurried away to discuss the new development with the family. "Of course she can't join," she declared. "It is ridiculous. The idea!
Wait a minute." "Be still? What do I want to be still for? I cal'late Cap'n Lote'll holler some, too, when he hears. He's alive, Cap'n Lote, I tell ye. Let go of me, Labe Keeler! He's alive!" "Who's alive? What is it? Labe, YOU answer me. Who's alive?" Laban's thoughts were still in a whirl. He was still shaking from the news the telegraph operator had brought.
I thought I'd shipped a man, but I see 'twas only a sassy baby. My uncle Labe had a good cure for seasickness. You take a big hunk of fat salt pork, dip it in molasses, and " "Oh, d-o-n-'t!" Another spasm. "Dip it in molasses," repeated Captain Eri. "Don't, Cap! PLEASE don't!"
Keeler, who came into the office from the inner room, "which girl do you cal'late Al here is wavin' by-bye to this mornin'? Who's goin' away on the cars this mornin', Labe?" Laban, his hands full of the morning mail, absently replied that he didn't know. "Yes, you do, too," persisted Issy. "You ain't listenin', that's all. Who's leavin' town on the train just now?" "Eh? Oh, I don't know.
He said they lived on everything that began with M. Alice says 'Why with an M? And the hatter, or the March hare, I forget which 'twas, says prompt, 'Why not? . . . Yes, yes, why not? that's what he said. . . . There's some philosophy in that, Al. Why does a hen go across the road? Why not? Why is Labe Keeler a disgrace to all his friends and the town he lives in?
Among the learned ladies of the sixteenth century we may choose Louise Labé, surnamed 'La Belle Cordière, who made a collection of a new kind, composed entirely of works in French, Spanish, and Italian, and Charlotte Guillard, a printer as well as a book-collector, who published at her own expense a volume of the Commentaries of St. Jerome.
The queen likewise, who was more splendidly dressed than the day before, came to receive him, and they went together to her apartments, where they had a repast brought them, and spent the remainder of the day in walking in the garden and in various other amusements. Queen Labe treated King Beder after this manner for forty days, as she had been accustomed to do all her lovers.
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