A Sailors Lass | Page 8

Tiny
would like the proposed change in her nurse and diet.
But as it happened the little girl was very pleased to be lifted out of bed
and seated on Coomber's knee at the table.
"Me likes 'ou," she said, patting his cheek with her little white hand;
and she ate the fish and bread as though she was quite used to such
food.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER III.
TINY'S HOPE.
The slant rays of the setting sun lay on the wide stretch of level sand
surrounding Bermuda Point, for the tide was out, and had left it smooth,
or slightly rippled as with tiny wavelets. Standing at the very edge of
the sands, with her eyes shaded, and her clothes blowing round her bare
legs, was a little fair-haired girl. She was slender and delicate-looking
still, in spite of the sun-browned arms and face. Months had passed, but
Tiny was still at the Point.
She stood gazing seawards for some minutes, and then turned and
walked slowly across the rippled sand.
"I can't see him, Dick," she said, in a disappointed tone.
"Oh, well, never mind," said the boy, who sat scooping the loose sand
up in a heap, beyond the reach of the present ordinary tides.
"Have you filled both the baskets?" asked the little girl, as she waded

through the loose dry sand to where the boy was sitting.
"No, that I ain't," answered Dick, "mother said you could pick the
samphire to-day."
"Yes, but you said you'd help me," said the girl, walking steadily across
the sand to the salt-marsh beyond. Here the samphire grew in
abundance, and the little girl set to work to fill the two large baskets
that stood near.
"You might come and help, Dick," she called, hardly repressing a sob
as she spoke.
"Look here, I'll help if you'll just come and make some more of them
letters. You said you would, you know," added the boy, still piling up
the sand.
"Oh, Dick, you know I can't; you know I've forgot a'most everything
since I've been here;" and this time the little girl fairly burst into tears,
and sat down beside the half-filled baskets, and sobbed as though her
heart would break.
The boy's heart was touched at the sight of her distress, and he ran
across to comfort her.
"Don't cry, Tiny; I'll help yer, and then we'll try agin at the letters. I
know three--A B C: you'll soon find out about the others, and make 'em
in the sand for me."
But Tiny shook her head. "I'd know 'em if I had a book," she said, sadly;
"ain't it a pity daddy ain't got one?"
"What 'ud be the good of books to dad?" said Dick. "Harry Hayes has
got some, I know; but then he goes to school, and knows all about 'em.
There, let's forget we see him with that book yesterday, for it ain't no
good for us to think about it," concluded Dick; for he did not like to see
Tiny's tears, and the easiest way of banishing them was to forget the
original cause, he thought. But the little girl was not of the same

opinion. She shook her head sadly as she said--
"I've forgot a'most everything my mother told me."
"Oh, that you ain't," contradicted the boy, "You never forget to say
your prayers before you go to bed. I wonder you ain't forgot that; I
should, I know."
"How could you, Dick, if you knew God was waiting to hear you?" said
Tiny, lifting her serious blue eyes to his face.
"Then why ain't He waiting to hear me?" asked Dick.
The question seemed to puzzle the little girl for a minute or two; but at
length she said--
"He is, Dick, I think; I'm a'most sure He's waiting for yer to begin."
"Then He's waited a good while," said Dick, bluntly; and he got up and
began to pull away at the samphire, by way of working off or digesting
the wonderful thought. After working away in silence for some minutes,
Dick said--
"D'ye think God cares for us down here at Bermuda Point?"
Tiny paused, with her hands full of samphire.
"Why shouldn't He?" she said. "I know He cares for me. He loves me,"
she added, in a tone of triumph; "my mother told me so. She said He
loved me just as well as she did."
"I'd like to know whether He cares about me," said Dick. "D'ye think
yer could find out for us, Tiny? Yer see everybody likes you--mother,
and father, and Bob; and Harry Hayes showed you his book yesterday.
You see you're a gal, and I think you're pretty," added Dick, critically;
"so it 'ud be a wonder if He didn't like you."
"And why