Bob West boarded at the
hotel, and so did Ned Long, a "farm hand," who did sundry odd jobs for
anyone who needed him, and helped pay his "keep" by working for Mrs.
Kebble when not otherwise engaged.
Mrs. Kebble was the landlady, and a famous cook. Kate Kebble, a
slatternly girl of sixteen, helped her mother do the work and waited on
the table. Chet Kebble, the landlord, was a silent old man, with
billy-goat whiskers and one stray eye, which, being constructed of
glass, usually assumed a slanting gaze and refused to follow the
direction of its fellow. Chet minded the billiard-room, which was mostly
patronized Saturday nights, and did a meager business in fire insurance;
but he was "so eternal lazy an' shifless," as Mrs. Kebble sharply
asserted, that he was considered more a "hanger-on" of the establishment
than its recognized head.
The little rooms of the hotel were plainly furnished but maintained with
exceptional neatness.
The one in the east corner of the second floor met with the approval of
Uncle John and the Major, and was promptly engaged. It was cheerful and
sunny, with outlooks on the lake and the village, and contained a lounge
as well as the bed.
When the invalid arrived, he was assisted to this apartment and
installed as its permanent occupant.
"Any baggage?" asked Mr.
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