Then he straightened up, to see the boat’s captain standing near its pilot house, and shouting through a great trumpet.
“I’m waiting for dinner to cook,” Ben answered in his piping voice.
“Can’t hear you!” roared the captain. “Run home and get your horn, and talk to me.”
Ben ran up the little hill to Mrs. Ross’s, and borrowed her trumpet, or megaphone. One’s voice sounds much louder when these are used, and they are to be found at every house on the shores of the St. Mary’s, boats, and those on the land, often want to say, “How do you do?” to each other. It was all Ben could do to hold the great tin trumpet on straight, for it was nearly as long as he was.
“I’m waiting for dinner to cook,” the boy shouted again, and this time the captain heard him.
“Going to have turkey, I suppose?” the captain asked.
“No, but we’re going to have turkey stuffing,” answered Ben with pride.
“Turkey stuffing, but no turkey! If that isn’t the best I ever heard!” The captain had dropped his trumpet, and doubled up with sudden laughter. Luckily Ben did not hear. “What else are you going to have?” he called when he had repeated the joke about him. “Mince pie without any mince meat?”
“No, sir!” Ben’s voice was shrill, but clear. “My father had mince pie for Thanksgiving dinner once, though.”
“Did, did he?” The captain dropped his trumpet again. “That boy’s all right,” he said to the first mate. “He’s too plucky to be laughed at. I’m going to send him some turkey for his stuffing, Morgan. Tell the cook to get ready half a turkey and a mince pie, and say, Morgan, have him send up one of those small baskets of grapes. We’ll tie them to a piece of plank, and they’ll float ashore all right. Tell the cook to hurry, or we’ll be too far downstream for the boy to get the things.” Then he raised his trumpet again.