The Green Dolphin
crony was as just a summary as any that could be made. At least Althea
accepted Lemuel at this baconian rating.
Yet notwithstanding the admission of the little man into her circle of
intimates, she would not at all have relished the idea of his cavorting
unrestrained about her orderly kitchen and making chowders therein,
and no sooner had the artist begun culinary operations than Asaph,
semi-educated out of his bachelor abandon, experienced a realization of
the fact.
For once launched on a project Lemuel forgot all else; and since in
this case his aim was to open clams, the utensil he used to perform
the office mattered not a whit; neither was it of moment to what
bourne the shells hurtled. He had pounced on Althea’s favorite paring
knife as a desirable weapon, and gone zealously to work, while his
companion trembled to see the slender blade writhe and quiver in his
resolute grasp. The shells he strewed about could be picked up from
the shed, lawn, driveway, and kitchen after Lemuel’s departure, but if
Althea’s treasured knife was injured the damage was not to be so easily
repaired. Nevertheless, he knew Lemmy’s disposition too well to risk
even the most delicate suggestion that the tool he wielded might break.
But he did contrive to frame some fable about the hens’ needing shells
and gather those most distantly lodged into a basket. Then having done
all he deemed prudent, he set about producing the ingredients that were
to go into the kettle.
Lemuel liked an early supper, and by four o’clock the mixture on the
stove was sending heavenward an aroma which the chef who bent over the
kettle affirmed was enough to make the mouths of the four-and-twenty
elders water.
“_But now th’ month is up, ol’ Turk!_
(_An’ we says so, an’ we hopes so_)
_Get up, you swine, an’ look for work!_
(_Oh, poor--ol’--man!_)”
roared he. “I ain’t thought of that chanty of the _Dead Horse_ for
years. Let’s see! How does it start off?”
It started off in a fashion so different from that either Asaph Holmes
or Captain Gill anticipated that the hair rose erect on their heads.
There was a crunching of wheels on the driveway, the tooting of a horn,
a babel of voices, and a loud rap at the screen door.
“Who’s that?” demanded Lemmy in a tense undertone.
“Hush!”
“Of course they’re at home,” piped a shrill feminine voice. “I can
smell cooking.”
“Clam chowder--or I’ll eat my hat,” a man asserted.
“I guess that’s all you’ll get,” laughed another woman.
“Clam chowder! M--m! I haven’t had a real one in years. I’d pay five
dollars for a plate of it.”
“Nonsense, you’re not so starved as all that, Eric.”
“I am, too. Haven’t you coaxed us past every tea-room on the road,
Mother, promising us a delicious meal at the Green Dolphin? There was a
fish of some fantastic color back there on the border of the town that
we might have gone to. But nothing would do but for us to hunt up this
place.”
“You won’t be sorry you waited, son. Someone told me Mrs. Holmes was a
marvellous cook.”
“What good will that do us if we can’t get in?”
“Of course we can get in. Isn’t the shop advertised to open today?”
“You may have been mistaken in the date, my dear,” suggested her
husband.
“It was posted in black and white at the Wilton cross roads; you saw it
yourself.”
Asaph held his breath, but Lemmy Gill, who had raised the cover to give
his _chef d’oeuvre_ a stir, caught the words and dropped the tin with a
crash that reverberated through the silence like a charge of artillery.
“We’re done for now,” whispered Asaph angrily. “Why on earth couldn’t
you have kept still?”
“I was tryin’ to.”
“Well, you didn’t succeed very well. I’ll have to go to the door now.”
“An’ tell ’em Althea’s gone?”
“Of course not--let ’em in for tea.”
“Tea!”
“Ain’t that what they’ve come for?”
“But--but, Asaph--hold on a minute. How can we? There’s two great cars
swarmin’ with folks. I can see ’em through the blind.”
“That can’t be helped now. If you hadn’t welcomed ’em with cymbals--”
“Quit bawlin’ me out. I tell you the confounded cover slipped.”
“Well, it’s of no account now what happened to it. You might as well
have tossed it up to the ceilin’ in joy fur’s the Dolphin’s concerned.
We’ll just have to open the door an’ let the whole crowd in. Althea’d
never get over it to her dyin’ day were I to send ’em off.”
“But the chowder--it’s ’most ready,” wailed Lemuel.
“Shove it back where it won’t burn an’ bear a hand.”
As the reluctant host disappeared through the doorway and Lemmy
grudgingly shifted his masterpiece from its position of honor, he
overheard Asaph saying:
“To be sure, marm. Come right in. Yes, the Dolphin’s open today. Mebbe
you’ll make yourself comfortable at some of the tables on the porch
while I fetch the dishes. The flowers in the garden? Yes, I raise
’em myself. What’s that? Sell you the Madonna lilies? I’m afraid
I couldn’t. No, not for five dollars or ten, either. No, nor the
larkspur. The flowers ain’t for sale. Only the food.”
Even in the distant kitchen Lemuel quailed before the indignant voice.
It did not sound like Asaph’s. He waited anxiously until it again
modulated into his friend’s customary tone:
“What have we got? Well, I ain’t thought that fur. I’ll have to take a
look round. Of course there’s--there’s water, an’ bread, an’--”
“We’re not convicts, Cap’n.”
“I’m not the Cap’n,” explained Asaph, simply. “He’s out in the kitchen
makin’ chowder.”
“Chowder!” A shout went up from the hungry motorists.
“I told you I smelled clam chowder,” put in one of the women
triumphantly.
“It was the crash of the tin cover that convinced us somebody was at
home,” explained a laughing voice.
Lemuel cursed his awkwardness.
“Well, fetch us something,” a male visitor interrupted with impatience.
“We’ve been on the road since morning with only a few sandwiches
’twixt us and starvation. We’ll have your whole menu from beginning to
end--price be damned.”
“Henry!”
“I tell you I’m hollow to my ankles,” her husband declared. “A dozen
muslin sandwiches and an egg don’t go far with an able-bodied man.”
“I’ll fix you up some victuals fast as ever I can,” answered Asaph.
“Just make yourselves at home an’ be patient till I can flax round a
mite.”
Then he bustled back into the kitchen.
“You’ll have to come to the rescue, Lemmy,” whispered he. “I’ve got ten
folks in there who don’t ’pear to have eaten since they turned their
teens. We may’s well make the tea in the wash boiler. Althea’s little
toy teapots ain’t goin’ to make no impression on ’em.”
“What do you want I should do first?”
“Clear the deck of the chowder an’ set some water a-boilin’,” returned
the flustered proprietor of the Dolphin. “My eye, but I’m thankful
you’re at hand! I hardly know where to ketch a-holt. Let me think.
There’s fruit cake somewhere; I remember hearin’ Althea say she’d
baked a batch of it ’cause ’twould keep. An’ there’s molasses cookies,
too. I ain’t sure but there’s pies tucked away under some of the big
yaller bowls; there often is. You might cut up some bread while you’re
waitin’. Give ’em good thick chunks--not those little lace slices you
can see through such as Mattie Bearse deals out. If folks are comin’
here to eat I mean they shall get their money’s worth.” He paused to
wipe the perspiration from his dripping forehead, then continued: “The
tea dishes are in the pantry. You’ll spy ’em on the shelf. They’re
green. Tote ’em out.”
With alacrity Lemuel leaped to obey orders.
“Found the china ware?” called Asaph, when after a reasonable pause his
assistant did not reappear.
“Aye, aye! But the cups ain’t bigger’n thimbles an’ they’re thin as
scallop shells. I’m scat of my life to meddle with ’em. Were I to grip
’em tight enough to hold onto ’em they’d cave in.”
“Don’t smash ’em, Lemmy! Don’t smash ’em, whatever else you do. Althea
bought a pretty close pattern an’ ain’t got one extra piece.”
“I ain’t layin’ to, the Lord knows. But they’re so slippery. Oh,
say, you’ll have to come an’ set me loose from this one. I’ve got my
forefinger through the handle an’ can’t budge it.”
“Hold on an’ don’t pull at it. I’ll be there in a minute.”
With anxious haste Asaph put down the loaf of cake he had just
dislodged from beneath a great earthen bowl and sped to his comrade’s
aid.
But to extract Lemuel’s plump digit from the ring of frail porcelain
through which it had forced itself proved to be no simple task. He was
shackled as firmly to the green cup as if he were a manacled prisoner.
“You can’t pull it off with your hands all buttery,” fretted the
captive. “Go wash ’em so’st they won’t slip.”
“What’d you jam your whole joint through the handle for, anyway?”
“You don’t s’pose I did it a-purpose, do you?” snapped Lemuel. “Them
cups have a glaze on ’em like ice. I slid through the hole unawares.”
“I wish to mercy you could slide out as easily. Well, it’s no use
putterin’ here. Come out to the sink an’ douse your hand in some hot
suds. That’s the only remedy I know,” sighed Asaph impatiently. “All is
if you can’t manage to get the thing off you’ll have to set down an’
wait till we have more time to tackle it.”
“S’pose it won’t come off?”
“Then you’ll have to tag Althea to Abington an’ let her get you free;
or else wear it till she comes home.”
“You don’t mean you’d expect me to wear this trinket hangin’ to me a
week,” fumed Captain Gill, splashing the soapy water wildly about.
“What would you do--smash it? I don’t know what Althea’d say if you
did. She counted noses on them cups. Besides, if you break the cup you
throw out the saucer too.”
“But how can I go round with a sea-green teacup clingin’ to me like a
barnacle?” whined Lemmy.
“Ain’t it stirrin’ at all?”
“No, not a peg. An’ what’s more my finger’s swellin’ up bigger every
minute.”
In spite of his annoyance Asaph smiled.
“You’re weddin’ the Dolphin, Lemmy, like the Doges of Venice used to
wed the Adriatic,” observed he drily. “It beats me how you contrived to
wriggle that ring on in the beginnin’.”
“I told you it slid onto me. I had a notion I’d string a few cups on my
hand an’ bring ’em out that way. I thought ’twould save time.”
“Humph! Well, I reckon the old-fashioned method of carryin’ ’em is good
as any,” was the brutal comment.
A pause followed the words.
“You ain’t goin’ to leave me like this, are you?” Lemuel presently
wailed in a reproachful tone.
“I can’t go botherin’ with you any more just now. I’ve wasted a full
ten minutes as ’tis. ’Fore we know it them folks will be out here
hollerin’ for their tea. You sit down somewhere, Lemmy, out of harm’s
way an’ leave me to feed ’em. Once I’ve filled ’em up I’ll launch in on
you again.”
Reluctantly the abashed victim sank into a chair.
“I ain’t a-goin’ to fuss to cut up the cake or put the cookies on
plates. There ain’t time,” continued Asaph as if thinking aloud. “They
can slice what they want off the loaf an’ help themselves out of the
cookie jar. Let me see--cake, bread, butter--” he checked the articles
off on his fingers. “Seems if some beach plum preserve would go good
along with the rest.”
“The tea ain’t made,” suggested Captain Gill, rising timidly from his
corner.
“Sit--down, Lemmy!” thundered his friend. “I know the tea ain’t brewed.
I’ve got it in mind. The water’s boilin’ an’ I can make it in a jiffy.
What I want to do is to hunt up that special tea Althea ordered from
Boston. She got it a-purpose an’ ’twas supposed to be pretty fine. It’s
only fair to give them folks the best we’ve got. Now where’d she tell
me she was goin’ to stow it?” He scratched his head.
Search, however, as he might, effort failed to reveal this very
necessary commodity. He pulled out the contents of neatly arranged