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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Nonsense, nonsense, Cap'n Lote!" he protested. "You ain't fair to yourself. You never treated Al anyhow but just honest and fair and square. If he was here now instead of layin' dead over there in France, poor feller, he'd say so, too. Yes, he would. Course he would." The captain made no reply, but walked from the room. Laban turned to Mrs. Ellis. "The old man broods over that," he said.
Then he brought it home and gave it to his wife to read. Afterward he read it aloud to Mrs. Ellis and to Laban, who was making his usual call in the Snow kitchen. When the reading was ended Labe was the first to speak. His eyes were shining. "Godfreys!" he exclaimed. "Godfreys, Cap'n Lote!" The captain seemed to understand. "You're right, Labe," he said.
The cross-stitch "tidy" on the back was his mother's handiwork, she had made it when she was fifteen. Rachel sat down in the rocker. "Al" she began, still in the same mysterious whisper, "I know all about it." He looked at her. "All about what?" he asked. "About the trouble you and Cap'n Lote had this afternoon.
When I'm alone in my room I go 'most crazy pretty nigh loony. . . . But there! I don't know why I got to talkin' like this to you, Cap'n Lote. You've got your troubles and " "Hold on, Labe. Does Rachel know about your fight?" "No. No, no. Course she must notice how long I've been been straight, but I haven't told her. I want to be sure I'm goin' to win before I tell her.
The real point is that you're Janie Snow's son and your grandpa's Cap'n Lote Snow and your grandma's Olive Snow and there ain't goin' to be another smash-up in this family if I can help it. I've been through one and one's enough.
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?"
During that time I should be trying to write of course, but I would only do that sort of writing evenings or on Saturdays and holidays. It shouldn't interfere with your work nor be done in the time you pay me for. And at the end of the three or four years " He paused again. This time the pause was longer than ever. Captain Lote broke the silence.
"Now, Cap'n Lote," he added, as they rose from the table, "you stay right to home here for the rest of the day. I'll hustle back to the office and see if Issy's importance has bust his b'iler for him. So-long, Al. See you pretty soon. Got some things to talk about, you and I have. . . . Yes, yes."
So long, Helen . . . Oh say," he added, as an afterthought, "I guess you and Albert ain't been introduced, have ye? Albert, this is Helen Kendall, she's our Orthodox minister's daughter. Helen, this young feller is Albert er er Consarn it, I've asked Cap'n Lote that name a dozen times if I have once! What is it, anyway?" "Speranza," replied the owner of the name. "That's it, Sperandy.
I wish I had the scourin' of some of those Germans! I'd I don't know as I wouldn't skin 'em alive." Albert laughed. "Some of them pretty nearly deserved it," he said. Rachel smiled grimly. "Well, let's talk about nice things," she said. "Oh, Issy Price was here this forenoon; Cap'n Lote sent him over from the office on an errand, and he said he saw you and Mr.
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