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A Sailor's Lass
A Sailor's Lass
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CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
ONE STORMY NIGHT 7
CHAPTER II.
THE FISHERMAN'S HOME 22
CHAPTER III.
TINY'S HOPE 41
CHAPTER IV.
TINY'S TREASURE 57
CHAPTER V.
ON THE SANDS 74
CHAPTER VI.
BAD TIMES 92
CHAPTER VII.
A TEA MEETING 110
CHAPTER VIII.
BRIGHTER DAYS 127
CHAPTER I.
ONE STORMY NIGHT.
"Mother, we're afloat agin." It was a gruff, sleepy voice that spoke,
and the old fisherman turned over and snored on, as though the fact of
their home being afloat was of no consequence to him. His wife, however,
was by no means so easy in her mind, for it was only during the
equinoctial gales and an unusually high tide that their home was lifted
from its moorings; and now it had been swinging and swaying for hours,
and the rusty chains that held it fast to some posts were creaking and
straining as though the next gust of wind would certainly carry them out
to sea or drive them up the river, where they would inevitably be
swamped in a very short time, for their boat-home was leaky at the
bottom--had been a water-logged boat before the fisherman took
possession of it and turned it into a quaint-looking cottage by running
up some wooden walls along the sides, and roofing it in with planks and
tarpaulin. Thus converted into a dwelling-house, the boat had been
secured, by four chains fixed to posts in the ground, on the top of a
mud-bank that formed the boundary of the mouth of the river.
The ocean itself was less than a quarter of a mile from where the old
boat was moored, and so the poor woman might well be excused for growing
more alarmed as the minutes went on and the gale increased, until the
boat fairly rocked, and the children in the adjoining cabin began crying
and screaming in their fright.
"Coomber! Coomber!" she said at last, shaking her husband, and starting
up in bed; for a sound more dreadful than the children's screams had
made itself heard above the din of the wind and waves.
CHAPTER I.
ONE STORMY NIGHT 7
CHAPTER II.
THE FISHERMAN'S HOME 22
CHAPTER III.
TINY'S HOPE 41
CHAPTER IV.
TINY'S TREASURE 57
CHAPTER V.
ON THE SANDS 74
CHAPTER VI.
BAD TIMES 92
CHAPTER VII.
A TEA MEETING 110
CHAPTER VIII.
BRIGHTER DAYS 127
CHAPTER I.
ONE STORMY NIGHT.
"Mother, we're afloat agin." It was a gruff, sleepy voice that spoke,
and the old fisherman turned over and snored on, as though the fact of
their home being afloat was of no consequence to him. His wife, however,
was by no means so easy in her mind, for it was only during the
equinoctial gales and an unusually high tide that their home was lifted
from its moorings; and now it had been swinging and swaying for hours,
and the rusty chains that held it fast to some posts were creaking and
straining as though the next gust of wind would certainly carry them out
to sea or drive them up the river, where they would inevitably be
swamped in a very short time, for their boat-home was leaky at the
bottom--had been a water-logged boat before the fisherman took
possession of it and turned it into a quaint-looking cottage by running
up some wooden walls along the sides, and roofing it in with planks and
tarpaulin. Thus converted into a dwelling-house, the boat had been
secured, by four chains fixed to posts in the ground, on the top of a
mud-bank that formed the boundary of the mouth of the river.
The ocean itself was less than a quarter of a mile from where the old
boat was moored, and so the poor woman might well be excused for growing
more alarmed as the minutes went on and the gale increased, until the
boat fairly rocked, and the children in the adjoining cabin began crying
and screaming in their fright.
"Coomber! Coomber!" she said at last, shaking her husband, and starting
up in bed; for a sound more dreadful than the children's screams had
made itself heard above the din of the wind and waves.
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