For a few minutes the wife had gone out of the house, and she returned,
breathlessly.

"They is all laughin' down ter th' beach," she announced. "They is
Frenchy's little bye, all wid' yeller curls, a-playin' wid our laddies,
and Sammy Moore he've brung a barrel o' flour, and a box wid pork, and
they is more tea and sugar. What d' yer think o' that?"

She was much excited, and looked from her husband to us, nervously, as if
fearing to awaken from a dream.

"That ere trader he said I couldn't have no more, afore I sent him a few
quintals o' fish," said Dick, "I don't see how it come."

"You had to have it," said the doctor, just a little bit gruffly. "You
can pay me back after you get to work again."

The woman grabbed his arm, and made him wince, and then she returned to
the beach again and brought back the box.

"Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am," she said. "Jist set down still fer a minnit.
I kin bile th' kittle now an' you'll be havin' a dish o' tea."

"Thank you ever so much," I answered, as pleasantly as I could. "I don't
want to give you so much trouble, and we are going back at once."

The woman looked sorely disappointed.

"It's awful good tea," she pleaded. "Th' kind as comes in yeller