"You see," she went on, "she and Laban have been engaged to be married ever since they were young folks.It's Laban's weakness for liquor that's kept 'em apart so long.She won't marry him while he drinks and he keeps swearin' off and then breaking down.
He's a good man, too; an awful good man and capable as all get-out when he's sober.Lately that is, for the last seven or eight years, beginnin' with the time when that lecturer on mesmerism and telegraphy--no, telepathy--thought-transfers and such--was at the town hall--Rachel has been havin' these sympathetic attacks of hers.She declares that alcohol-takin' is a disease and that Laban suffers when he's tipsy and that she and he are so bound up together that she suffers just the same as he does.I must say Inever noticed him sufferin' very much, not at the beginnin,'
anyhow--acts more as he was havin' a good time--but she seems to.
I don't wonder you smile," she added."'Tis funny, in a way, and it's queer that such a practical, common-sense woman as Rachel Ellis is, should have such a notion.It's hard on us, though.
Don't say anything to her about it, and don't laugh at her, whatever you do."Albert wanted to laugh very much."But, Mrs.Snow--" he began.
"Mercy sakes alive! You ain't goin' to call me 'Mrs.Snow,' Ihope."
"No, of course not.But, Grandmother why do you and Captain--you and Grandfather keep her and Keeler if they are so much trouble?
Why don't you let them go and get someone else?""Let 'em go? Get someone else! Why, we COULDN'T get anybody else, anyone who would be like them.They're almost a part of our family; that is, Rachel is, she's been here since goodness knows when.And, when he's sober Laban almost runs the lumber business.
Besides, they're nice folks--almost always."Plainly the ways of South Harniss were not the ways of the world he had known.Certainly these people were "Rubes" and queer Rubes, too.Then he remembered that two of them were his grandparents and that his immediate future was, so to speak, in their hands.The thought was not entirely comforting or delightful.He was still pondering upon it when his grandfather came in from the barn.
The captain said good morning in the same way he had said good night, that is, he and Albert shook hands and the boy was again conscious of the gaze which took him in from head to foot and of the quiet twinkle in the gray eyes.
"Sleep well, son?" inquired Captain Zelotes.
"Yes...Yes, sir."
"That's good.I judged you was makin' a pretty good try at it when I thumped on your door this mornin'.Somethin' new for you to be turned out at seven, eh?""No, sir."
"Eh? It wasn't?"
"No, sir.The rising bell rang at seven up at school.We were supposed to be down at breakfast at a quarter past.""Humph! You were, eh? Supposed to be? Does that mean that you were there?""Yes, sir."
There was a surprised look in the gray eyes now, a fact which Albert noticed with inward delight.He had taken one "rise" out of his grandfather, at any rate.He waited, hoping for another opportunity, but it did not come.Instead they sat down to breakfast.
Breakfast, in spite of the morning sunshine at the windows, was somewhat gloomy.The homesickness, although not as acute as on the previous night, was still in evidence.Albert felt lost, out of his element, lonely.And, to add a touch of real miserableness, the housekeeper served and ate like a near relative of the deceased at a funeral feast.She moved slowly, she sighed heavily, and the bandage upon her forehead loomed large and portentous.When spoken to she seldom replied before the third attempt.Captain Zelotes lost patience.
"Have another egg?" he roared, brandishing the spoon containing it at arm's length and almost under her nose."Egg! Egg! EGG! If you can't hear it, smell it.Only answer, for heaven sakes!"The effect of this outburst was obviously not what he had hoped.
Mrs.Ellis stared first at the egg quivering before her face, then at the captain.Then she rose and marched majestically to the kitchen.The door closed, but a heartrending sniff drifted in through the crack.Olive laid down her knife and fork.
"There!" she exclaimed, despairingly."Now see what you've done.
Oh, Zelotes, how many times have I told you you've got to treat her tactful when she's this way?"Captain Lote put the egg back in the bowl.
"DAMN!" he observed, with intense enthusiasm.
His wife shook her head.
"Swearin' don't help it a mite, either," she declared."Besides Idon't know what Albert here must think of you." Albert, who, between astonishment and a wild desire to laugh, was in a critical condition, appeared rather embarrassed.His grandfather looked at him and smiled grimly.
"I cal'late one damn won't scare him to death," he observed.
"Maybe he's heard somethin' like it afore.Or do they say, 'Oh, sugar!' up at that school you come from?" he added.
Albert, not knowing how to reply, looked more embarrassed than ever.Olive seemed on the point of weeping.
"Oh, Zelotes, how CAN you!" she wailed."And to-day, of all days!
His very first mornin'!"
Captain Lote relented.
"There, there, Mother!" he said."I'm sorry.Forget it.Sorry if I shocked you, Albert.There's times when salt-water language is the only thing that seems to help me out...Well, Mother, what next? What'll we do now?""You know just as well as I do, Zelotes.There's only one thing you can do.That's go out and beg her pardon this minute.There's a dozen places she could get right here in South Harniss without turnin' her hand over.And if she should leave I don't know WHATI'd do."
"Leave! She ain't goin' to leave any more'n than the ship's cat's goin' to jump overboard.She's been here so long she wouldn't know how to leave if she wanted to.""That don't make any difference.The pitcher that goes to the well--er--er--"She had evidently forgotten the rest of the proverb.Her husband helped her out.
"Flocks together or gathers no moss, or somethin', eh? All right, Mother, don't fret.There ain't really any occasion to, considerin'
