"Why, after they're cooked!"
"Well, I s'pose we can; but I feel more like shaking hands with 'em all
around, just now. They're old friends and neighbors of mine, you know."
"Yes; but I guess we'd better eat them."
"Cap'n Dab," said Dick, "dey jes' knock all de correck pronounciation
out ob me, dey does."
"Ford, Frank, I'll ask Mrs. Myers and Almira up here right away. Those
oysters and clams have got to be eaten this very evening."
They did not need twice asking; and there was a thoughtful expression on
the face of Mrs. Myers when she looked from one box into the other. It
was fairly on her tongue's end to suggest what share of those luxuries
should be taken at once to Deacon Short's or Mrs. Sunderland's; but she
stopped in time, for that thought was followed by another,--
"What could the boys have been writing home about her cooking and her
table?"
There might be something serious in it; for boarders were people who
came and went, boys or no boys, and Dab and his friends were just the
kind of boys to "come and go." At all events, she could not object to
their having such a supply as that sent them; and she took up the
responsibility of all the cookery required, at once.
It was a feast while it lasted, and the effects of it upon the character
of Mrs. Myers's table were permanent.
There was no further danger that Dab's growth would be checked in any
such manner as his mother had feared.
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