Isaiah?"

Mr. Chase's face assumed an aggrieved expression.

"Course we have," he answered, "but I didn't know you was goin' to have
company."

"Neither did we. But we could stand a clean table-cloth, even at that."

"I've got somethin' to do besides changin' tablecloths every day."

"Every day! Every Thanksgivin' Day, you mean. This one--"

"Now, look-a-here, Cap'n Shad; you know well as I do that Sarah J.
never come to do the washin' last week. She was down with the grip and
couldn't move. If you expect me to do washin' as well as cook and sweep
and keep house and--and shovel snow, and--"

"Shovel snow! What kind of talk's that? There ain't been any snow since
February."

"Don't make no difference. When there was I shoveled it, didn't I? It
ain't no use; I try and try, but I can't give satisfaction and I might's
well quit. I don't have to stay here and slave myself to death. I can
get another job. There's folks in this town that's just dyin' to have me
work for em."

Captain Shadrach muttered something to the effect that if Isaiah did
work for them they might die sooner. Mr. Chase rose from his seat.

"All right," he said, with dignity. "All right, this settles it. I'm
through. After all the years I sailed cook along with you, Shad Gould,
and after you beggin' me--yes, sir, beggin' on your knees, as you might
say, for me to run this house for you long as you lived--after that,
to--to--Good-by. I'll try not to lay it up against you."

He was moving--not hastily, but actually moving--toward the kitchen
door. Zoeth, who was evidently much disturbed, rose and laid a hand on
his arm.

"There, there, Isaiah," he pleaded. "Don't act so. We ain't findin' any
fault. Shadrach wasn't findin' fault, was you, Shadrach?"

"No, no, course I wasn't. Don't talk so foolish, Isaiah. Nobody wants
you to quit. All I said was--Come back here and set down. Your tea's
gettin' all cold."

To Mary-'Gusta it seemed as if the tea had been at least cool to begin
with. However, Mr. Chase suffered himself to be led back to the table
and attacked his supper in injured silence. Mary-'Gusta offered a
suggestion.

"I guess I could wash a tablecloth," she said. "I always wash my dolls'
things."

Her three companions were plainly surprised. The Captain was the first
to speak.

"You don't say!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, sir, I do. And," with a glance at the silver, "I can scour
knives and forks and spoons, too. I used to help Mrs. Hobbs