The next few days passed swiftly by in doing the usual camp-work varied by Billy’s efforts to run the launch—he was hoping to own one himself some day; and the other boys’ indifferent success at wood-chopping to keep the boxes filled, showed the youthful engineer that they wished they could be with him.
Then came the day set aside by Mrs. Remington for a “laundry party.” She said she hadn’t the courage to send such awful clothes to the Islesboro Steam Laundry.
However, the sting of this occasion was removed by the unexpected promise of the first swim that season when the wash was finished.
While the boys were soaking their trawling duds in hot soapy water, good-natured Mose brought them a large bottle of household ammonia. As he drew near the tub he pretended to believe they were preparing a new kind of fish chowder.
“Yo’ don’ tell me dem are cloe’s yo’ got fermentin’ in dat tub,” cried he aghast. “Why, dey’s got scales like a fish, an’ dey smells like a fish, an’ Ah b’lieve yo-all tryin’ t’fix up a new-fangle kin’ ov fish-soup! It looks lak some ov dat tin-soup broth! Ah spec’s hit’ll tas’ mos’ de same, too,” and Mose sniffed at the aroma with a true chef’s expressive disdain.
The boys laughed and Mose hoaxed them until every one was in a good humour, then the wise old cook went back to his work chuckling to himself. “Hit all depen’s on how yo’ han’le boys when dey gotta nasty job on ’er han’s to do!”
Then, how the boys enjoyed their plunge in the sea, even though Paul and Dudley confided to each other that they were quite sure the temperature was below zero that day.
Mrs. Remington herded them out in a few minutes and the balance of the day was spent in trying various athletic exercises to restore the quick circulation of the blood of youth.
