Capn Dans Daughter | Page 3

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?"
"Matter! Don't talk to ME! Carelessness is the matter! Slip- sloppiness
is the matter! Here's a man that calls himself a man and goes mopin'
around pretendin' to BE a man, and what does he do?"
"I don't know. I'd tell you better, maybe, if I knew who he was."
"Who he was! I'll tell you who he was--is, I mean. He's Balaam
Hambleton, that's who he is."
"Humph! Bale Hamilton, hey? Then it's easy enough to say what he
does--nothin', most of the time. Is that letter for me?"
"Course it's for you! And it's a week old, what's more. One week ago
that letter come in the mail and the postmaster let that--that Hambleton
thing take it, 'cause he said he was goin' right by here and could leave it

just as well as not. And this very mornin' that freckle-faced boy of
his--that George Washin'ton one--what folks give such names to their
young ones for I can't see!--he rung the front door bell and yanked me
right out of the dish water, and he says his ma found the letter in
Balaam's other pants when she was mendin' 'em, and would I please
excuse his forgettin' it 'cause he had so much on his mind lately. Mind!
Land of love! if he had a thistle top on his mind 'twould smash it flat.
Don't talk to me!"
"I won't," drily; "I WON'T, Zuba, I swear it. Let's see the letter."
He bent forward and took the letter from her hand. Then, adjusting his
spectacles, he examined the envelope. It was of the ordinary business
size and was stamped with the Boston postmark, and a date a week old.
Captain Dan looked at the postmark, studied the address, which was in
an unfamiliar handwriting, and then turned the envelope over. On the
flap was printed "Shepley and Farwell, Attorneys, ----- Devonshire
Street." The captain drew a long breath; he leaned back in his chair and
sat staring at the envelope.
Azuba wiped the suds from her wet hand and arm upon her apron. Then
she wrapped it and the other arm in said apron and coughed. The cough
was intended to arouse her employer from the trance into which he had,
apparently, fallen. But it was without effect. Captain Daniel did stop
staring at the envelope, but he merely transferred his gaze to the
ink-spattered blotter and the ledger upon it, and stared at them.
"Well?" observed Azuba.
The captain started. "Hey?" he exclaimed, looking up. "Did you
speak?"
"I said 'Well?'. I suppose that's speakin'?"
"'Well?' Well what?"
"Oh, nothin'! I was just wonderin'--"
"Wonderin' what?"
"I was wonderin' if that letter was anything important. Ain't you goin'
to open it and see?"
"Hey? Open it? Oh, yes, yes. Well, I shouldn't wonder if I opened it
some time or other, Zuba. I gen'rally open my letters. It's a funny habit
I have."
"Humph! Well, all right, then. I didn't know. Course, 'tain't none of my
business what's in other folks's letters. I ain't nosey, land knows.

Nobody can accuse me of--"
"Nobody can accuse you of anything, Zuba. Not even dish washin' just
now."
Azuba drew herself up. Outraged dignity and injured pride were
expressed in every line of her figure. "Well!" she exclaimed; "WELL!
if that ain't--if that don't beat all that ever I heard! Here I leave my work
to do folks favors, to fetch and carry for 'em, and this is what I get.
Cap'n Dott, I want you to understand that I ain't dependent on nobody
for a job. I don't HAVE to slave myself to death for nobody. If you ain't
satisfied--"
"There, there, Zuba! I was only jokin'. Don't get mad!"
"Mad! Who's mad, I'd like to know? It takes more'n that to make me
mad, I'd have you understand."
"That's good; I'm glad of it. Well, I'm much obliged to you for bringin'
the letter."
"You're welcome. Land sakes! I don't mind doin' errands, only I like to
have 'em appreciated. And I like jokes well as anybody, but when you
tell me--"