There was a long pause.
"Ye don't say! Wal now, ain't that jes' fine. But ye'll call me if ye need hand-help, eh?"
Grandpa strode back to the table, sat down and stuffed his napkin under his chin.
"What did Miz' Terry say?" asked Grandma, setting his plate in front of him.
Grandpa ate with gusto. He slurped one oyster, then another, before he would talk. "Why, ye'd never believe it, Idy, how quick people think! First, Charlie Saunders, who's in charge of the hull Public Service—he calls Miz' Terry and warns her 'bout the wind bein' high and the electric liable to go out, so she calls Henry Leonard down to the hardware store, and almost afore she hung up there was a boy knockin' at her door with a generator and some gasoline to run it."
Grandpa sighed in satisfaction. "So let the wind screech," he said, "and let the rain slap down, and let the tide rip. We're all here together under our snug little roof."
A good feeling came into the room. The lantern flame seemed suddenly to shine brighter and the homely kitchen with its red-checkered cloth became a thing of beauty.
