Dab Kinzer: A Story of a Growing Boy by William O. Stoddard (reading books for 6 year olds .TXT) 📖

Har dey come. Oh, my!"

Ford and Frank brought a fresh gust of enthusiasm with them, and they had Dick and his eels up from the grass in short order.

"We must see Mrs. Lee right away," said Ford. "It would never do to let
Dick tell her."

"Guess dat's so," said Dick.

Quite an embassy they made, those four boys, with Dab Kinzer for spokesman, and Dick Lee almost crouching behind them. Mrs. Lee listened with open mouth while Dab unfolded his plan, but when he had finished she shut her lips firmly together. They were not very thin, and not at all used to being shut, and in another instant they opened again.

"Sho! De boy! Is dat you, Dick? Dat's wot comes ob dressin' on 'im up. How's he goin' to git clo'es? Wot's he got to do wid de 'Cad'my, anyhow? Wot am I to do, yer all alone, arter he's gone? Who's goin' to run err'nds an' do de choahs? Wot's de use ob bringin' up a boy an' den hab him go trapesin' off to de 'Cad'my? Wot good'll it do 'im?"

"I tole yer so, Dab," groaned poor Dick. "It ain't no use. I 'most wish
I was a eel!"

Dabney was on the point of opening a whole broadside of eloquence, when
Ford Foster pinched his arm, and whispered,—

"Your mother's coming, and our Annie's with her."

"Then let's clear out. She's worth a ten-acre lot full of us. Come on, boys!"

If Mrs. Lee was surprised by their very sudden and somewhat unceremonious retreat, she need not have been, after she learned the cause of it. She stood in wholesome awe of Mrs. Kinzer; and a "brush" with the portly widow, re-enforced by the sweet face of Annie Foster, was a pretty serious matter.

She did not hesitate about beginning the skirmish, however; for her tongue was already a bit loosened, and in fine working-order.

"Wot's dis yer, Mrs. Kinzer, 'bout sendin' away my Dick to a furrin
'Cad'my? Isn't he 'most nigh nuff spiled a'ready?"

"Oh! it's all arranged nicely. Miss Foster and I only came over to see what we could do about getting his clothes ready. He must have things warm and nice, for the winters are cold up there."

"I hasn't said he might go—Dick, put down dem eels; an' he hasn't said he'd go—Dick, take off yer hat; an' his father"—

"Now, Glorianna," interrupted Mrs. Kinzer, calling Dick's mother by her first name, "I've known you these forty years, and do you suppose I'm going to argue about it? Just tell us what Dick'll need, and don't let's have any nonsense. The money's all provided. How do you know what'll become of him? He may be governor yet."

"He mought preach!"

That idea had suddenly dawned upon the perplexed mind of Mrs. Lee, and Dick's fate was settled. She was prouder than ever of her boy; and, truth to tell, her opposition was only what Mrs. Kinzer had considered it, a piece of unaccountable "nonsense," to be brushed away by just such a hand as the widow's own.

CHAPTER XIX. A GRAND SAILING-PARTY, AND AN EXPERIMENT BY RICHARD LEE.

That was a great day for the boys; but, before the close of it, Ford Foster had told his friends the news that Joe Hart and his brother Fuz had been invited to visit with him.

"Will they come?" asked Dab.

"Certainly. That kind of boy always comes. Nobody wants to keep him from coming."

"When do you look for them?"

"Right away. Vacation's almost gone, you know."

"Won't they be ashamed to meet your sister?"

"Not a bit. They'll try their tricks, even after they get here."

"All right. We'll help 'em all we know how. But, boys, I'll tell you what we must try for."

"What's that?"

"One grand good sailing-party in 'The Swallow,' before they get here."

"Hurrah for that! Annie was wishing for one, only yesterday."

"We'll have all of your folks and all of ours. 'The Swallow' is plenty big enough."

"Mother wouldn't go, and father can't just now. He's trying a case. But there's Annie and Frank and me"—

"And my mother, and Ham and Miranda, and our girls. Ham'll go, sure.
Then we must take Dick Lee along. It'd make him sick if we didn't."

"Of course. Ain't I glad about him! Could we get ready and go to-morrow?"

"Guess not so quick as that. We might by the day after, if the weather's all right."

Exactly. There is always a large-sized "if" to be put in, where any thing depends on the weather, Mrs. Kinzer took the matter up with enthusiasm, and so did the girls, Miranda included; and Ford Foster was quite right about his part of the company.

But the weather!

It looked well enough, to unpractised eyes; but Ham Morris shook his head, and went to consult his fishermen friends. There was a good deal of head-shaking done thereupon; for every human barometer among them advised him to wait a day or so, and hardly any two of them gave him the same reason for doing it.

Ford Foster was at the house when Ham made his report, and was a little surprised to see how promptly Dab Kinzer yielded his assent to the verdict.

"Such warm, nice weather as this is," he remonstrated; "and there isn't any wind to speak of."

"There's too much of it coming," was Ham's response; and there was no help for it after that, not even when the mail brought word from "Aunt Maria" that both of her dear boys would arrive in a day or two.

"Our last chance is gone, Annie," said Ford, when the news came.

"O mother!" she said despondingly, "what shall we do?"

"Have your sail, just the same, and invite your cousins."

"But the Kinzers"—

"Why, Annie! Mrs. Kinzer will not think of neglecting them. She's as kind as kind can be."

"And we are to pay her with Joe and Fuz," said Ford. "Well, I wish Ham
Morris's storm would come along."

He only had to wait until the next day for it, and he felt quite contented to be safe on shore while it lasted. There was no call for any laughter at the prophecies of the fishermen after it began to blow. Still the blow was not a long one, and Ham Morris remarked,—

"This is only an outside edge of it. It's a good deal worse than this out at sea. I'm glad we're not out in it."

Ford Foster thought that about the worst of that weather was when the afternoon train came in, and he had to show a pair of tired, moist, and altogether unpleasant cousins to the room set apart for them. The clouds in his mind did not clear away perceptibly even when, just after supper, a note came in from Mrs. Kinzer, inviting the Hart boys to join the yachting-party next morning.

"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. They were both feeling a little "strange," as yet, and were almost inclined to try and behave themselves; the main difficulty in the way of it being a queer idea they had that their ordinary way of doing things made up a fair article of "good behavior." Nobody had taken the pains to bounce them out of the notion.

When the morning really came, sea and earth and sky seemed to be all the better for the trial they had been through, and the weather was all that Mrs. Kinzer had prophesied of it. The grass and trees were greener, and the bay seemed bluer; while the few clouds visible were very white and clean, as if all the storms had been recently washed out of them.

There was no question now to be raised concerning the yachting-party, or any part of it. Not a single thing went wrong in Mrs. Kinzer's management of the "setting out," and that was half the day won to begin with. Ford had some difficulty in getting Joe and Fuz out of bed so early as was necessary; but he gave them an intimation which proved quite sufficient:—

"You'd better hop, boys. Ham Morris wouldn't wait five minutes for the
Queen of England, or even for me."

"Joe," whispered Fuz, a little while after they got on board the yacht, "are we to be gone a week?"

"Why? What's up?"

"Such piles of provisions as they've stowed away in that kennel!"

The bit of a water-tight cabin under the half-deck, at which Fuz pointed, was pretty well filled, beyond a doubt; but Mrs. Kinzer knew what she was about. She had provided luncheon for most of that party before, and the effect on them of the sea-air was also to be taken into account.

"Dab," said Ford Foster, "you've forgotten to unhitch the 'Jenny,' Here she is, towing astern."

"That's all right. We may need her. She's too heavy to be taken on board."

A careful fellow was Mr. Hamilton Morris, and he well knew the value of a rowboat to a sea-going picnic-party. As for Joe and Fuz, they were compelled to overcome a strong inward inclination to cast the boat loose. Such a good joke it would have been! But Ham Morris was in the way of it, so long as he stood at the tiller.

"The Swallow" was steady enough to inspire even Annie Foster with a feeling of confidence; but Ford carefully explained to her the difference between slipping over the little waves of the landlocked bay, and plunging into the gigantic billows of the stormy Atlantic.

"I prefer this," said Annie.

"But I wouldn't have missed the other for any thing," replied Ford.
"Would you, Dick?"

Mr. Richard Lee had taken his full share in the work of starting, and had made himself singularly useful; but, if all the rest had not been so busy, they would surely have noticed his remarkable silence. Hardly a word had he uttered that anybody could remember; and, now he was forced to say something, his mouth opened slowly, as if he had never tried to speak before, and was not quite sure he knew how.

"No—Mr.—Foster,—I—would—not—have—missed—that—trip—for—a—good —deal."

Every word came out by itself, "afoot and alone," and as different from Dick's ordinary speech as a cut stone is from a rough one. Ham Morris opened his eyes wide, and Ford puckered his lips into the shape of a still whistle; but Annie caught the meaning of it quicker than they did.

"Dick," she said at once, "are we to fish to-day?"

"May—be,—but—that—depends—on—Mr. Morris."

Every word was slowly and carefully uttered, a good deal in the manner of a man counting over a lot of money, and looking out sharp for counterfeits.

"Look here, Dick," suddenly exclaimed Dab Kinzer, "I give it up: you can do it. But don't you try to keep it up all day. Kill you, sure as any thing, if you do."

"Did I say 'em all right, Cap'n Dab?" anxiously inquired Dick, with a happy look on his merry black face.

"Every word," said Dab; "but it's well for you they were all short. Keep on practising."

"I'll jes' do dat, shuah!"

Practising? Dick?

Yes, that was it; and he joined heartily in the peal of laughter with which the success of his first attempt at "w'ite folks' English" was received by that party.

Dab explained, that, as soon as Dick found he was really to go to the academy, he determined to teach his tongue new habits; and the whole company heartily approved, even while they joined Dab in advising him not to attempt too much at a time.

"You might sprain your tongue over a big word," said Ford.

There was an abundance of talk and fun all around, as "The Swallow" skimmed onward; and the outlines of the long, low sand-island were rapidly becoming more distinct.

Nearer they drew, and nearer.

"Is that a light-house, away over there?" asked Annie of Dab.

"Yes, that's a light-house; and there's a wrecking-station, close down by it."

"A wrecking-station?"

"I say," said Ford, "are there men there all the while? Are there many wrecks on this coast?"

"Ever so many wrecks," said Dab,