water, the apple-jack can't hurt 'em."

Maybe the doctor was wrong about it; but the demijohn went over to the
wreck in "The Swallow," very much to the gratification of old Jock.

Mrs. Foster's dining-room was not a large one: there were no large rooms
in that house. Nevertheless, the entire party managed to gather around
the table,--all except Dab and Ford.

"Dab is head cook, and I'm head waiter," had been Ford's explanation.
"Frank and the boys are company."

Certainly the cook had no cause to be ashamed of his work. The coffee
was excellent. The fish was done to a turn. The oysters, roasted,
broiled, or stewed, and likewise the clams, were all that could have
been asked of them. Bread there was in abundance; and all things were
going finely, till Mrs. Kinzer asked her son, as his fire-red face
showed itself at the kitchen-door,--

"Dabney, you've not sent in your vegetables. We're waiting for them."

Dab's face grew redder, and he came near dropping a plate he held in his
hand.

"Vegetables? Oh, yes! Well, Ford, we might as well send them in now.
I've got them all ready."

Annie opened her eyes, and looked hard at her brother; for she knew very
well that not so much as a potato had been thought of in their
preparations. Ford himself looked a little queer; but he marched right