Captain January | Page 6

and wonder how they was rigged, and how many tons they were, and
all about it. Yes! I was a wild un, and no mistake; and after awhile I got
so roused up--after my mother died, it was, and my father married
again--that I just run away, and shipped aboard of a whaler, bound for
the north seas. Wal, Honey, 'twould take me a week to tell ye about all
my voyages. Long and short of it, 'twas the life I was meant for, and I
done well in it. Had tumbles and toss-ups, here and there, same as
everybody has in any kind o' life; but I done well, and by the time I was

forty year old I was captain of the _Bonito_, East Indiaman, sailin' from
New York to Calcutta."
The Captain paused, and puffed gravely at his pipe for a few minutes.
"Well, Rosebud," he continued, presently, "you know what comes next.
The Bonito was cast away, in a cyclone, on a desert island, and all
hands lost, except me and one other."
"Dear Daddy! poor Daddy!" cried the child, putting her little hands up
to the weather-beaten face, and drawing it down to hers. "Don't talk
about that dreadful part. Go on to the next!"
"No, I won't talk about it, Star Bright!" said the old man, very gravely.
"Fust place I can't, and second place it ain't fit for little maids to hear of.
But I lived on that island fifteen year,--five year with my good mate
Job Hotham, and ten year alone, after Job died. When a ship kem by,
after that, and took me off, I'd forgot most everything, and was partly
like the beasts that perish; but it kem back to me. Slow, like, and by fits,
as you may say; but it kem back, all there was before, and maybe a
good bit more!"
"Poor Daddy!" murmured the child again, pressing her soft cheek
against the white beard. "It's all over now! Don't think of it! I am here,
Daddy, loving you: loving you _all to pieces_, you know!"
The old man was silent for a few minutes, caressing the little white
hands which lay like twin snowflakes in his broad, brown palm. Then
he resumed, cheerfully:
"And so, Cream Cheese from the dairy of Heaven, I kem home. Your
old Daddy kem home, and landed on the same wharf he'd sailed from
twenty-five years before. Not direct, you understand, but takin' steamer
from New York, and so on. Wal, there wa'n't nobody that knew me, or
cared for me. Father was dead, and his wife; and their children, as
weren't born when I sailed from home, were growed up and gone away.
No, there wa'n't nobody. Wal, I tried for a spell to settle down and live
like other folks, but 'twa'n't no use. I was'nt used to the life, and I
couldn't stand it. For ten years I haven't heard the sound of a human
voice, and now they was buzz, buzzin' all the time; it seemed as if there
was a swarm of wasps round my ears the everlastin' day. Buzz! buzz!
and then clack! clack! like an everlasting mill-clapper; and folks starin'
at my brown face and white hair, and askin' me foolish questions. I
couldn't stand it, that was all. I heard that a light-keeper was wanted

here, and I asked for the place, and got it. And that's all of the first part,
Peach Blossom."
The child drew a long breath, and her face glowed with eager
anticipation. "And _now_, Daddy Captain," she said, "now you may
say, 'Ten years ago this fall!'"
"Ten years ago this fall," said the Captain meekly acquiescing, "on the
fourteenth day of September, as ever was, I looks out from the tower,
bein' a-fillin' of the lamps, and says I, 'There's a storm comin'!' So I
made all taut above and below, fastened the door, and took my glass
and went out on the rocks, to see how things looked. Wal, they looked
pooty bad. There had been a heavy sea on for a couple o' days, and the
clouds that was comin' up didn't look as if they was goin' to smooth it
down any. There was a kind o' brassy look over every thin', and when
the wind began to rise, it warn't with no nat'ral sound, but a kind of
screech to it, on'arthly like. Wal, thar! the wind did rise, and it riz to
stay. In half an hour it was blowin' half a gale; in an hour it blew a gale,
and as tough a one (barrin' cyclones) as ever I see. 'T had like to ha'
blow me off my pins, half a dozen times. Then nat'rally the sea kem up;
and 'twas all