Probably the person who would have been most concerned could she
have known what was happening at home would have been Althea, who
while entertaining for Lemuel Gill a warm esteem was not blind to his
happy-go-lucky standards of living. She was a realist, and to pretend
to one of her unimaginative temperament that Lemmy was not idle,
shiftless and shabby would have been futile. Although an ocean rolled
before his door into which he might have dived for pearls; dropped
nets for food; and plunged for cleanliness and refreshment, he seldom
troubled its waters for any of these services, contenting himself
merely with gazing at its flashing foam.
Day after day and year after year he had looked upon the vast expanse
before him, delighting in its smiles and frowns and failing to
appreciate the material advantages of its proximity. Nevertheless he
must have derived something of value from its presence, or he would not
have remained where its surge and swell all but lapped his doorsill.
Just what the immensity of blue meant to him he could not, perhaps,
have put into words. There were golden June days when a spray of his
Dorothy Perkins, pink with blossoms and swaying against the sweep of
sea and sky, sent a throb of delight pulsing over him; the fairness of
a lily opening its chalice to the sun was lovelier, in his opinion,
when its perfumes mingled with the salty air; and the whisper of the
tide was a song he never tired of hearing.
Lemuel Gill may have been careless and untidy of body, but over his
soul there broke a hundred times a day floods of beauty that kept it
pure and unspotted.
Then there was his code of honor, for casual as he was he had his
own particular credo. He did not hesitate to borrow a clam fork and
forget to return it; or borrow money, either, in the same irresponsible
fashion; and he gossiped like a magpie. But the town agreed he never
passed on a slander or failed a friend.
“Lemmy’s made up of a streak of fat an’ a streak of lean, Althea,”
explained Asaph to his wife; and possibly this characterization of his
crony was as just a summary as any that could be made. At least Althea
accepted Lemuel at this baconian rating.
Yet notwithstanding the admission of the little man into her circle of
intimates, she would not at all have relished the idea of his cavorting
unrestrained about her orderly kitchen and making chowders therein,
and no sooner had the artist begun culinary operations than Asaph,
semi-educated out of his bachelor abandon, experienced a realization of
the fact.
For once launched on a project Lemuel forgot all else; and since in
this case his aim was to open clams, the utensil he used to perform
the office mattered not a whit; neither was it of moment to what
bourne the shells hurtled. He had pounced on Althea’s favorite paring
knife as a desirable weapon, and gone zealously to work, while his
companion trembled to see the slender blade writhe and quiver in his
resolute grasp. The shells he strewed about could be picked up from
the shed, lawn, driveway, and kitchen after Lemuel’s departure, but if
Althea’s treasured knife was injured the damage was not to be so easily
repaired. Nevertheless, he knew Lemmy’s disposition too well to risk
even the most delicate suggestion that the tool he wielded might break.
But he did contrive to frame some fable about the hens’ needing shells
and gather those most distantly lodged into a basket. Then having done
all he deemed prudent, he set about producing the ingredients that were
to go into the kettle.
Lemuel liked an early supper, and by four o’clock the mixture on the
stove was sending heavenward an aroma which the chef who bent over the
kettle affirmed was enough to make the mouths of the four-and-twenty
elders water.
“_But now th’ month is up, ol’ Turk!_
(_An’ we says so, an’ we hopes so_)
_Get up, you swine, an’ look for work!_
(_Oh, poor--ol’--man!_)”
roared he. “I ain’t thought of that chanty of the _Dead Horse_ for
years. Let’s see! How does it start off?”
It started off in a fashion so different from that either Asaph Holmes
or Captain Gill anticipated that the hair rose erect on their heads.
There was a crunching of wheels on the driveway, the tooting of a horn,
a babel of voices, and a loud rap at the screen door.
“Who’s that?” demanded Lemmy in a tense undertone.
“Hush!”
“Of course they’re at home,” piped a shrill feminine voice. “I can
smell cooking.”
“Clam chowder--or I’ll eat my hat,” a man asserted.
“I guess that’s all you’ll get,” laughed another woman.
“Clam chowder! M--m! I haven’t had a real one in years. I’d pay five
dollars for a plate of it.”
“Nonsense, you’re not so starved as all that, Eric.”
“I am, too. Haven’t you coaxed us past every tea-room on the road,
Mother, promising us a delicious meal at the Green Dolphin? There was a
fish of some fantastic color back there on the border of the town that
we might have gone to. But nothing would do but for us to hunt up this
place.”
“You won’t be sorry you waited, son. Someone told me Mrs. Holmes was a
marvellous cook.”
“What good will that do us if we can’t get in?”
“Of course we can get in. Isn’t the shop advertised to open today?”
“You may have been mistaken in the date, my dear,” suggested her
husband.
“It was posted in black and white at the Wilton cross roads; you saw it
yourself.”
Asaph held his breath, but Lemmy Gill, who had raised the cover to give
his _chef d’oeuvre_ a stir, caught the words and dropped the tin with a
crash that reverberated through the silence like a charge of artillery.
“We’re done for now,” whispered Asaph angrily. “Why on earth couldn’t
you have kept still?”
“I was tryin’ to.”
“Well, you didn’t succeed very well. I’ll have to go to the door now.”
“An’ tell ’em Althea’s gone?”
“Of course not--let ’em in for tea.”
“Tea!”
“Ain’t that what they’ve come for?”
“But--but, Asaph--hold on a minute. How can we? There’s two great cars
swarmin’ with folks. I can see ’em through the blind.”
“That can’t be helped now. If you hadn’t welcomed ’em with cymbals--”
“Quit bawlin’ me out. I tell you the confounded cover slipped.”
“Well, it’s of no account now what happened to it. You might as well
have tossed it up to the ceilin’ in joy fur’s the Dolphin’s concerned.
We’ll just have to open the door an’ let the whole crowd in. Althea’d
never get over it to her dyin’ day were I to send ’em off.”
“But the chowder--it’s ’most ready,” wailed Lemuel.
“Shove it back where it won’t burn an’ bear a hand.”
As the reluctant host disappeared through the doorway and Lemmy
grudgingly shifted his masterpiece from its position of honor, he
overheard Asaph saying:
“To be sure, marm. Come right in. Yes, the Dolphin’s open today. Mebbe
you’ll make yourself comfortable at some of the tables on the porch
while I fetch the dishes. The flowers in the garden? Yes, I raise
’em myself. What’s that? Sell you the Madonna lilies? I’m afraid
I couldn’t. No, not for five dollars or ten, either. No, nor the
larkspur. The flowers ain’t for sale. Only the food.”
Even in the distant kitchen Lemuel quailed before the indignant voice.
It did not sound like Asaph’s. He waited anxiously until it again
modulated into his friend’s customary tone:
“What have we got? Well, I ain’t thought that fur. I’ll have to take a
look round. Of course there’s--there’s water, an’ bread, an’--”
“We’re not convicts, Cap’n.”
“I’m not the Cap’n,” explained Asaph, simply. “He’s out in the kitchen
makin’ chowder.”
“Chowder!” A shout went up from the hungry motorists.
“I told you I smelled clam chowder,” put in one of the women
triumphantly.
“It was the crash of the tin cover that convinced us somebody was at
home,” explained a laughing voice.
Lemuel cursed his awkwardness.
“Well, fetch us something,” a male visitor interrupted with impatience.
“We’ve been on the road since morning with only a few sandwiches
’twixt us and starvation. We’ll have your whole menu from beginning to
end--price be damned.”
“Henry!”
“I tell you I’m hollow to my ankles,” her husband declared. “A dozen
muslin sandwiches and an egg don’t go far with an able-bodied man.”
“I’ll fix you up some victuals fast as ever I can,” answered Asaph.
“Just make yourselves at home an’ be patient till I can flax round a
mite.”
Then he bustled back into the kitchen.
“You’ll have to come to the rescue, Lemmy,” whispered he. “I’ve got ten
folks in there who don’t ’pear to have eaten since they turned their
teens. We may’s well make the tea in the wash boiler. Althea’s little
toy teapots ain’t goin’ to make no impression on ’em.”
“What do you want I should do first?”
“Clear the deck of the chowder an’ set some water a-boilin’,” returned
the flustered proprietor of the Dolphin. “My eye, but I’m thankful
you’re at hand! I hardly know where to ketch a-holt. Let me think.
There’s fruit cake somewhere; I remember hearin’ Althea say she’d
baked a batch of it ’cause ’twould keep. An’ there’s molasses cookies,
too. I ain’t sure but there’s pies tucked away under some of the big
yaller bowls; there often is. You might cut up some bread while you’re
waitin’. Give ’em good thick chunks--not those little lace slices you
can see through such as Mattie Bearse deals out. If folks are comin’
here to eat I mean they shall get their money’s worth.” He paused to
wipe the perspiration from his dripping forehead, then continued: “The
tea dishes are in the pantry. You’ll spy ’em on the shelf. They’re
green. Tote ’em out.”
With alacrity Lemuel leaped to obey orders.
“Found the china ware?” called Asaph, when after a reasonable pause his
assistant did not reappear.
“Aye, aye! But the cups ain’t bigger’n thimbles an’ they’re thin as
scallop shells. I’m scat of my life to meddle with ’em. Were I to grip
’em tight enough to hold onto ’em they’d cave in.”
“Don’t smash ’em, Lemmy! Don’t smash ’em, whatever else you do. Althea
bought a pretty close pattern an’ ain’t got one extra piece.”
“I ain’t layin’ to, the Lord knows. But they’re so slippery. Oh,
say, you’ll have to come an’ set me loose from this one. I’ve got my
forefinger through the handle an’ can’t budge it.”
“Hold on an’ don’t pull at it. I’ll be there in a minute.”
With anxious haste Asaph put down the loaf of cake he had just
dislodged from beneath a great earthen bowl and sped to his comrade’s
aid.
But to extract Lemuel’s plump digit from the ring of frail porcelain
through which it had forced itself proved to be no simple task. He was
shackled as firmly to the green cup as if he were a manacled prisoner.
“You can’t pull it off with your hands all buttery,” fretted the
captive. “Go wash ’em so’st they won’t slip.”
“What’d you jam your whole joint through the handle for, anyway?”
“You don’t s’pose I did it a-purpose, do you?” snapped Lemuel. “Them
cups have a glaze on ’em like ice. I slid through the hole unawares.”
“I wish to mercy you could slide out as easily. Well, it’s no use
putterin’ here. Come out to the sink an’ douse your hand in some hot
suds. That’s the only remedy I know,” sighed Asaph impatiently. “All is
if you can’t manage to get the thing off you’ll have to set down an’
wait till we have more time to tackle it.”
“S’pose it won’t come off?”
“Then you’ll have to tag Althea to Abington an’ let her get you free;
or else wear it till she comes home.”
“You don’t mean you’d expect me to wear this trinket hangin’ to me a
week,” fumed Captain Gill, splashing the soapy water wildly about.
“What would you do--smash it? I don’t know what Althea’d say if you
did. She counted noses on them cups. Besides, if you break the cup you
throw out the saucer too.”
“But how can I go round with a sea-green teacup clingin’ to me like a
barnacle?” whined Lemmy.
“Ain’t it stirrin’ at all?”
“No, not a peg. An’ what’s more my finger’s swellin’ up bigger every
minute.”
In spite of his annoyance Asaph smiled.
“You’re weddin’ the Dolphin, Lemmy, like the Doges of Venice used to
wed the Adriatic,” observed he drily. “It beats me how you contrived to
wriggle that ring on in the beginnin’.”
“I told you it slid onto me. I had a notion I’d string a few cups on my
hand an’ bring ’em out that way. I thought ’twould save time.”
“Humph! Well, I reckon the old-fashioned method of carryin’ ’em is good
as any,” was the brutal comment.
A pause followed the words.
“You ain’t goin’ to leave me like this, are you?” Lemuel presently
wailed in a reproachful tone.
“I can’t go botherin’ with you any more just now. I’ve wasted a full
ten minutes as ’tis. ’Fore we know it them folks will be out here
hollerin’ for their tea. You sit down somewhere, Lemmy, out of harm’s
way an’ leave me to feed ’em. Once I’ve filled ’em up I’ll launch in on
you again.”
Reluctantly the abashed victim sank into a chair.
“I ain’t a-goin’ to fuss to cut up the cake or put the cookies on
plates. There ain’t time,” continued Asaph as if thinking aloud. “They
can slice what they want off the loaf an’ help themselves out of the
cookie jar. Let me see--cake, bread, butter--” he checked the articles
off on his fingers. “Seems if some beach plum preserve would go good
along with the rest.”
“The tea ain’t made,” suggested Captain Gill, rising timidly from his
corner.
“Sit--down, Lemmy!” thundered his friend. “I know the tea ain’t brewed.
I’ve got it in mind. The water’s boilin’ an’ I can make it in a jiffy.
What I want to do is to hunt up that special tea Althea ordered from
Boston. She got it a-purpose an’ ’twas supposed to be pretty fine. It’s
only fair to give them folks the best we’ve got. Now where’d she tell
me she was goin’ to stow it?” He scratched his head.
Search, however, as he might, effort failed to reveal this very
necessary commodity. He pulled out the contents of neatly arranged
drawers and boxes, scattering his wife’s possessions recklessly high
and low; he swept bowls and tin cans from the pantry shelves. The
tea was not to be found. And not only was it missing but none of an
inferior quality came to light to take its place. At last having
overturned a pitcher of sour milk into the ice-chest he halted his
frenzied chase.
“I can’t find the durn stuff,” fumed he, wearied out. “An’ now the
ice-chest’s awash with milk.”
“S’pose I was to--”
“Do set down, Lemuel Gill. Ain’t I got trouble enough without you
instigatin’ more? The kindest thing you can do is to keep out of
this clutter. I know you want to help; but how can you when you’re
handcuffed? All is I’ll just have to break the news that there ain’t
no tea. They’ll have to content themselves with water.”
“But Althea advertised tea,” objected Lemuel. “’Twas the chief thing
she promised people. A tea-house without tea is like a weddin’ without
a bride.”
“Don’t I know it? If you can’t offer comfort cheerier than that you
better hold your tongue.”
For an interval nothing was heard in the kitchen but the frantic
bubbling of the kettle.
“You--you--ain’t goin’ to give ’em those kitchen plates to eat off of,
are you?” Lemmy inquired, when he could contain himself no longer.
“Yes, I am,” came curtly from his crony. “I don’t mean to run the risk
of wearin’ rings on my fingers--nor bells on my toes, neither. One of
us has got to remain able-bodied an’ seaworthy an’ that green china’s
wicked slippery. Besides, if I don’t use it none of it will get broke.”
The mention of the offending porcelain brought freshly to Lemuel’s mind
his tribulation.
“My finger’s all purple an’ numb as a dead fish,” lamented he.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help it,” was the meagre comfort Asaph hurled
over his shoulder as he disappeared on to the veranda. “You’ll have to
grin an’ bear it.”
Left to himself Captain Gill settled gloomily back into his rocker
and with indignation surveyed the fragile barrier that stood betwixt
him and liberty. He revelled in gossip and would dearly have loved to
behold the visitors and mingle in the general hilarity.
“I knew this infernal Dolphin would ketch Asaph,” grumbled he in an
undertone. “From its christenin’ I felt squeamish about it. Dolphins
bring bad luck. I never sighted a school of ’em at sea that the breeze
didn’t die down afterwards. Asaph will be a slave to this critter all
summer--see if he ain’t! Take a dolphin into your home an’ you’ve
annexed a boarder that’ll leave you no peace. What chance is he goin’
to have henceforth for fishin’, clammin’, gardenin’, or readin’? Fur’s
that goes what chance am I goin’ to have myself?”
He was still mulling over these depressing thoughts and ruefully
regarding the calamity into which his initial encounter with the Green
Dolphin had plunged him when the door opened and his pal appeared.
“The feller they call Henry has offered me a five-dollar bill for a
dish of clam chowder,” cried he excitedly. “’Pears he comes from Denver
an’ ain’t visited New England for years. He says he ain’t seen a clam
since he can remember. An’ no sooner did he pipe up for chowder than
all the rest of ’em, findin’ there was no tea, did the same. They’re
ready to pay ’most any price for it.”
“Is there enough?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of it. I poured in a generous lot of milk so’st
we could warm it over. There’s no danger of it fallin’ short. I just
didn’t know how you’d feel about sellin’ it. You see ’twas you made it.”
“I’ll own I didn’t have in mind feedin’ it to a gang of starvin’
motorists,” retorted Lemmy. “Still, I dunno but we may’s well let ’em
have it. You’re in a tight place an’ I ain’t been able to help you
none.”
“You were tryin’ to, anyhow, Lemmy.”
The glance Asaph flashed his friend widened into a smile and with it
the cloud of irritation that hung between them vanished.
“Bail out the chowder, pardner,” ejaculated Captain Gill, instantly in
his normal spirits. “Don’t spare it. I can make another one tomorrow.”
“I reckon you’ll have to,” was the melancholy forecast.
This prediction proved to be only too true a one. Plate after plate
of the steaming viand disappeared through the kitchen door never to
return. Then at last, hot and exhausted, the panting host of the
Dolphin poked his head in at the window.
“They will have you out, Lemmy--there’s no stoppin’ ’em. Mr.
Hollingsworth--that’s Henry, from Denver--says there warn’t ever a
chowder made that could match this one. He insists on meetin’ the cook
who concocted it. An’ there’s a girl here, a Miss Margaret Davidson
(Peggy, they call her), who’s so plumb crazy over the garden she can
scarcely eat. You’ll have to come an’ tell her about the flowers.”
“But--but--how can I?” With a wan expression Lemuel held up his captive
finger.
“That? Pooh, never mind that blasted teacup, Lemmy. Smash it!”
responded Asaph with high-pitched gaiety.