"No; he's all right," said Mary-'Gusta. "Isn't it nice he ain't hurt,
Mr.--I mean Cap'n Gould?"

Captain Shad rubbed his knee. "Um--yes," he said, with elaborate
sarcasm; "it's lovely. Course I don't mind breakin' both MY legs, but if
that cat had been--er--bruised or anything I should have felt bad. Well,
Isaiah," he added, tartly, turning to the grinning "steward," "are them
fried potatoes of yours real or just in your mind?"

"Eh? Why--why they're right there on the stove, Cap'n Shad."

"Want to know! Then suppose you put 'em on the table. I'm hungry and I'd
like to eat one more square meal afore somethin' else happens to finish
me altogether. By fire! if this ain't been a day! First that chair, and
then that will and letter of Marcellus's, and then this. Humph! Come on,
all hands, let's eat supper. I need somethin' solid to brace me up for
tomorrow's program; if it's up to this, I'll need strength to last it
through. Come on!"

That first supper in the white house by the shore was an experience for
Mary-'Gusta. Mrs. Hobbs, in spite of her faultfinding and temper, had
been a competent and careful housekeeper. Meals which she prepared were
well cooked and neatly served. This meal was distinctly different.
There was enough to eat--in fact, an abundance--fried cod and the fried
potatoes and hot biscuits and dried-apple pie; but everything was put
upon the table at the same time, and Mr. Chase sat down with the others
and did not even trouble to take off his apron. The tablecloth was not
very clean and the knives and forks and spoons did not glitter like
those the child had been accustomed to see.