A Sailors Lass | Page 4

of the water, and wrapped her in the blanket.
"Won't she drink some milk?" said Coomber, scratching his head helplessly.
"I dessay she will presently; but who's to keep her? You say there ain't none of the people saved from the wreck to tell who she belongs to?"
"No, there ain't none of 'em saved, so I think I'll take her myself," said Coomber.
"You take her!" exclaimed the woman; "what will your wife say, do you think, to another mouth to fill, when there's barely enough now for what you've got--four hearty boys, who are very sharks for eating?"
"Well, dame, I've had a little gal o' my own, but ain't likely to have another unless I takes this one," said Coomber, with a little more courage, "and so I ain't a-going to lose this chance; for I do want a little gal."
"Oh, that's all very well; but you ain't no call to take this child that's no ways your own. She can go to the workus, you know. Peters'll take her by-and-by. Her clothes ain't much, so her belongings ain't likely to trouble themselves much about her. Yer can see by this trumpery medal she don't belong to rich folks; so my advice is, let her go to the workus, where she'll be well provided for."
"No, no! the missus'll see things as I do, when I talk to her a bit. So if you'll take care of her for an hour or two, while I go home and get off these duds, and tell her about it, I'll be obliged;" and without waiting for the dame's reply, Coomber left the cottage.
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CHAPTER II.
THE FISHERMAN'S HOME.
"Why, mother, are you here?" Coomber spoke in a stern, reproachful tone, for he had found his wife and the cowering children huddled together in the corner of the old shed where the family washing and various fish-cleaning operations were usually carried on; and the sight did not please him.
"Are yer all gone mad that yer sitting out there wi' the rain drippin' on yer, when yer might be dry an' comfortable, and have a bit o' breakfast ready for a feller when he comes home after a tough job such as I've had?"
"I--I didn't know when you was coming to breakfast," said Mrs. Coomber, timidly, and still keeping close in the corner of the shed for fear her husband should knock her down; while the children stopped their mutual grumblings and complaints, and crept closer to each other behind their mother's skirts.
"Couldn't you ha' got it ready and waited wi' a bit o' fire to dry these duds?" exclaimed her husband.
"But the boat, Coomber, it wasn't safe," pleaded the poor woman. "We might ha' been adrift any minute."
"Didn't I tell yer she was safe, and didn't I ought to know when a boat's safe better nor you--a poor tool of a woman? Come out of it," he added, impatiently, turning away.
The children wondered that nothing worse than hard words fell to their share, and were somewhat relieved that the next question referred to Bob, and not to their doings.
"You say he ain't come home?" said Coomber.
"I ain't seen him since he went with you to Fellness. Ain't you just come from there?" said his wife, timidly.
"Of course I have, but Bob ought to have been back an hour or so ago, for I had something to do in the village. Come to the boat, and I'll tell you all about it," he added, in a less severe tone; for the thought of the child he had rescued softened him a little, and he led the way out of the washing-shed.
The storm had abated now, and the boat no longer rocked and swayed, so that the children waded back through the mud without fear, while their father talked of the little girl he had left with Dame Peters at Fellness. They listened to his proposal to bring her home and share their scanty meals with very little pleasure, and they wished their mother would say she could not have another baby; but instead of this Mrs. Coomber assented at once to her husband's plan of fetching the child from Fellness that afternoon.
The Coombers were not a happy family, for the fisherman was a stern, hard man by nature, and since he had lost his little girl he had become harder, his neighbours said. At all events, his wife and children grew more afraid of him--afraid of provoking his stern displeasure by any of those little playful raids children so delight in; and every one of them looked forward to the day when they could run away from home and go to sea, as their grown-up brother had done. Bob, the eldest now at home, was already contemplating taking this step very soon, and had promised to help Dick and Tom