CHAPTER VI.

CRABS, BOYS, AND A BOAT-WRECK.


That Saturday morning was a sad one for poor Dick Lee.

His mother, the previous night, carefully locked up his elegant apparel,
the gift of Mr. Dabney Kinzer. It was done after Dick was in bed; and,
when daylight came again, he found only his old clothes by the bedside.

It was a hard thing to bear, no doubt; but Dick had been a bad boy on
Friday. He had sold his fish instead of bringing them home, and then had
gone and squandered the money on a brilliant new red necktie.

"Dat's good 'nuff for me to wear to meetin'," said Mrs. Lee, when her
eyes fell upon the gorgeous bit of cheap silk. "Reckon it won't be
wasted on any good-for-nuffin boy. I'll show ye wot to do wid yer fish.
You' a-gettin' too mighty fine, anyhow."

Dick was disconsolate for a while; but his humility took the form of a
determination to go for crabs that day, mainly because his mother had
long since set her face against that tribe of animals.

"Dey's a wasteful, 'stravagant sort ob fish," remarked Mrs. Lee, in
frequent explanation of her dislike. "Dey's all clo'es and no body, like
some w'ite folks I know on. I don't mean de Kinzers. Dey's all got body
nuff."