“Please, Maggie, make room,” continued Beth, already having learned her power of persuasion over her new mammy.
“I can’t, honey, but I’ll tell yo’ what. Yo’ an’ Harvey kin do it if he knows how to boil dem.”
“Of course, I know how.”
“Well, I’ll let yo’ take dis big iron kettle into de library. Yo’ kin put de kettle on de fire, dar, an’ boil dem.”
Beth danced up and down for joy. “Oh, won’t that be fun. Thank you, Maggie. You’re a lovely Maggie.”
“Dar ain’t no hot watah, but I’ll take dis cold watah in fur yo’, an’ it’ll heat in no time.”
Maggie carried the kettle, half-filled with water, and placed it securely, as she thought, on the big open wood-fire in the library. Then she left the children to their own devices, Fritz alone keeping them company. A watched kettle never boils, and the children did not have the patience to test the truth of this.
“I hate to wait for water to boil,” said Beth.
Just then Harvey conceived a brilliant idea.
“Say, Beth, we’ll put in the crabs before it begins to boil. Then we can play until they’re done.”
“And the cold water won’t hurt them like hot, will it, Harvey?”
Without answering, he emptied the crabs into the kettle. Beth viewed them critically.
“There’s the horrid old thing that bit me. I know him by his one claw.”
“He shall be the first one eaten to show how mean he was. What shall we play?”
“Let’s play stage.”
He accepted the suggestion, and while they played, Fritz snoozed comfortably before the fire.
The water began to get hot, and the crabs became lively. They crawled around so vigorously that a log slipped and upset the kettle. There was a sizzling of water, and, in an instant, fifteen crabs were loose in the Davenport library.
This avalanche of crabs awakened Fritz, who opened his eyes halfway and beheld a crab at his very nose. Perhaps in his sleepiness, he thought it another kind of kitten ready for a frolic. At any rate, he put out his paw towards the crab, which met his advances more than halfway. With a wild howl, Fritz jumped up on three feet while the crab clung grimly to the fourth.
“Poor Fritz! You, too, should beware of the Jabberwock that bites,” cried Beth from the lounge where she had taken refuge.
Around and around whirled Fritz in a most lively manner.
“Just see him,” cried Beth triumphantly. “Gustus always said he could dance, and this proves it.”
Harvey, who was trying to catch some of the crabs, grunted disdainfully, but continued his unsuccessful chase without any other comment.
Fortunately for Fritz, the crab dropped of its own accord, and the frightened dog tore like a streak of lightning through the house and on outdoors.
Once Harvey stooped and thought he surely had a crab, when Beth beheld another crab with claws upstretched right behind.