e; but
Dab's plan for "punishing the Hart boys" was a complete failure. As Ford
told him afterward,

[Illustration: "VEGETABLES?" "WHY, THEY'RE LOBSTERS!"]

"Feel it? Not they. You might as well try to hurt a clam with a pin."

"And I hurt your sister's feelings instead of theirs," replied Dab.
"Well, I'll never try anything like it again. Anyhow, Joe and Fuz aint
comfortable. They ate too many roasted clams and too much lobster."

CHAPTER XXII.

Ham Morris did not linger long at the dinner-table, and Dab would have
given more than ever for the privilege of going with him. Not that he
felt so very charitable, but that he did not care to prolong his stay at
Mrs. Foster's, whether as "cook" or otherwise. He had not lost his
appetite, however, and after he had taken care of that, he slipped away
"on an errand for his mother," and hurried toward the village. Nearly
everybody he met had some question or other to ask him about the wreck,
and it was not to have been expected that Jenny Walters would let her
old acquaintance pass her without a word or so.

Dab answered as best he could, considering the disturbed state of his
mind, but he wound up with:

"Jenny, I wish you'd come over to our house by and by."

"What for?"

"Oh, I've got something to show you. Something you never saw before."

"Do you mean your new baby,--the one you found on the bar?"

"Yes; but that baby, Jenny!"

"What's wonderful about it?"

"Why, it's only two years old and it can squall in two languages. That's
more'n you can do."

"They say your friend, Miss Foster, speaks French," retorted Jenny. "Was
she ever shipwrecked?"

"In French? May be so. But not in German."

"Well, Dabney, I don't propose to squall in anything. Are your folks
going to burn any more of their barns this year?"

"Not unless Samantha gets married. Jenny, do you know what's the latest
fashion in lobsters?"

"Changeable green, I suppose."

"No; I mean after they're boiled. It's to have 'em come on the table in
cuffs and collars. Lace around their necks, you know."

"And gloves?"

"No, not any gloves. We had lobsters to-day at Mrs. Foster's, and you
ought to have seen 'em."

"Dabney Kinzer, it's time you went to school again."

"I'm going in a few days."

"Going? Do you mean you're going away somewhere?"

"Ever so far. Dick Lee's going with me."

"I heard about him, but I didn't know he meant to take you along. That's
very kind of Dick. I s'pose