Mrs. Foster that "the table was waiting for them all."

Even Mrs. Kinzer drew a long breath of relief and satisfaction. There
was nothing more in the wide world that she could do, just then, for
either "that baby" or its unfortunate parents; and she was beginning to
worry about her son-in-law, and how she should manage to get him to eat
something. For Ham Morris had worked himself into a high state of
excitement, in his benevolent haste, and did not seem to know that he
was hungry. Miranda had entirely sympathized with her husband until the
arrival of that message from Mrs. Foster.

"O Hamilton! And good Mrs. Foster must have cooked it all herself!"

"No, Miranda," said Ham thoughtfully. "Our Dabney went home with Ford
and Annie. I can't stay more than a minute, but I think we'd better go
right over. There's a good many things to come yet, from the village."

Go they did; while the charitable neighbors whom Ham had stirred up
concerning the wreck, attended to the completion of the cargo of "The
Swallow." More than that was true; for at least one other good and
kind-hearted boat would be ready to accompany her on her return trip
across the bay, laden with creature comforts of all sorts.

Even old Jock, the village tavern-keeper, not by any means the best man
in the world, had come waddling down to the landing with a demijohn of
old "apple-brandy;" and his gift had been kindly accepted, by the
special advice of the village physician.

"That sort of thing has made plenty of shipwrecks around here," said the
man of medicine; "and the people on the bar have swallowed so much salt