n' 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