“No, don’t do that!” called the man after him. “I don’t want your crabs! I never eat them! They give me indigestion. They’re bad for me. Save them for your father.”
“My father will pay you if you give us something to eat,” said Janet.
“Um! We’ll talk about that later,” chuckled the old gentleman.
“Here, Peter,” he added, as a colored man-servant appeared along another path, “take these children up to the house and see that the cook gives them something to eat—and drink, too,” he added. “They’re thirsty. Give them lemonade or milk—whatever they want.”
“Yes, sah, Mr. Narr,” answered the colored man, and at that name Ted and Janet started in surprise. “Did yo’ say I was to hab de cook gib ’em lemonade an’ milk, sah?”
“Lemonade and milk? The idea! Of course not! Don’t be stupid, Peter. I said lemonade or milk—not both! Whatever they want, though. They’ve been ship-wrecked, Peter, and cast away upon this island. It isn’t exactly a desert island, though,” he added, with a chuckle, as he looked at the beautiful large house where he lived. “But they were shipwrecked, Peter, and we must feed the shipwrecked ones.”
“Shipwrecked, sah?” and the colored man looked at his master in a strange way.
“Well, their boat drifted away. It’s much the same thing. Now take them up and feed them, and let me know when they’ve had enough. You’ll find me here with Nero,” and he patted the dog’s black head.
“Yes, sah, Mr. Narr! Yes, sah!” murmured Peter. “Come along ob me, chilluns,” he added, with a kind smile.
Ted and Janet liked Peter at once. He had a kind way about him. Perhaps this had something to do with the magic words of food and drink.