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Updated: June 15, 2025
It was Captain Lote's belief, and his wife's hope, that a succession of sea winds might blow away recollections of Senor Speranza "fan the garlic out of her head," as the captain inelegantly expressed it. Jane had spent her sixteenth and seventeenth years at a school for girls near Boston. The opera company of which Speranza was a member was performing at one of the minor theaters.
It's what has kept me from marryin' him all this time. I swore I'd never marry a man that drinks, and I never will. Why, if it wasn't for liquor Labe would have been runnin' his own business and gettin' rich long ago. He all but runs Cap'n Lote's place as 'tis. The cap'n and a good many other folks don't realize that, but it's so."
Cap'n Lote's callin' you, ain't he?" Albert went into the office in response to his grandfather's call to find the latter seated at an old-fashioned roll-top desk, piled with papers. "I've got to go down to the bank, Al," he said. "Some business about a note that Laban ought to be here to see to, but ain't. I'll be back pretty soon. You just stay here and wait for me.
Captain " he paused before uttering the name which to his critical metropolitan ear had seemed so dreadfully countrified and humiliating; "Captain Zelotes Snow," he blurted, desperately. Jim Young laughed aloud. "Good land, Doc!" he cried, turning toward his passenger; "I swan I clean forgot that Cap'n Lote's name begun with a Z. Cap'n Lote Snow? Why, darn sure! I . . . Eh?"
But Captain Lote's hand still remained uplifted. "Mr. Fosdick," he said, "just a minute now just a minute. You never have met Albert, my grandson, have you? Never even seen him, maybe?" "No, but I intend to meet him and talk with him before I leave South Harniss. He was one of the two people I came here to meet." "And I was the other, eh? Um-hm. . . . I see.
This is Albert Sperandy, Cap'n Lote's grandson." Albert and Miss Kendall shook hands. "Thanks," said the former, gratefully and significantly. The young lady smiled. "Oh, you're welcome," she said. "I knew who you were all the time or I guessed who you must be. Cap'n Snow told me you were coming." She went out. Issachar, staring after her, chuckled admiringly.
Mistakes, too, were unprofitable for the maker. Captain Lote's eye twinkled when he read that. Later on he wrote that he had been made a corporal and his grandmother, to whom a major general and a corporal were of equal rank, rejoiced much both at home and in church after meeting was over and friends came to hear the news. Mrs. Ellis declared herself not surprised.
Even Captain Lote's praise of the Lusitania poem was whole-hearted and ungrudging. That summer was a busy one in South Harniss. There was the usual amount of summer gaiety, but in addition there were the gatherings of the various committees for war relief work. Helen belonged to many of these committees.
It ain't Lote's fault so much as 'tis his wife's she's responsible. Don't you fret, Bub, the cap'n'll be here for you some time to-night. If he said he'll come he'll come, even if he has to hire one of them limmysines. He, he, he! All you've got to do is wait, and . . . Hey! . . . Hold on a minute! . . . Bub!" The boy was walking away.
But the change in his attitude and tone came too late. Captain Lote's temper was boiling now, contradiction was its worst provocative. "Goin' to quit!" he sneered. "Goin' to quit because you don't like to work. All right, quit then! Go ahead! I've done all I can to make a man of you. Go to the devil in your own way." "Grandfather, I " "Go ahead! I can't stop you. It's in your breed, I cal'late."
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