leaves were short and infrequent. Theirs was a curious sort of married
life. "We is kind of independent, Labe and me," said Azuba. "He often
says to me--that is, as often as we're together, which ain't often--he
says to me, he says, 'Live where you want to, Zuby,' he says, 'and if
you want to move, move! When I get ashore I can hunt you up.' We don't
write many letters because time each get t'other's, the news is so
plaguey old 'tain't news at all. You Dotts seem more like home folks to
me than anybody else, so I stick to you. I presume likely I shall till I
die."

Azuba entered the store in the way in which she did most things, with
a flurry and a slam. Her sleeves were rolled up, she wore an apron, and
one hand dripped suds, demonstrating that it had just been taken from
the dishpan. In the other, wiped more or less dry on the apron, she held
a crumpled envelope.

"Well!" she exclaimed, excitedly. "If some human bein's don't beat
the Dutch then _I_ don't know, that's all. If the way some folks go
slip-slop, hit or miss, through this world ain't a caution then--Tut!
tut! tut! don't talk to ME!"

Captain Dan looked up from the ledger.

"What?" he asked absently.

"I say, don't talk to ME!"

"We--ll," with deliberation, "I guess I shan't, unless you stop talkin'
yourself, and give me a chance. What's the matter now, Zuba?"