Part 3

And playing on the sands was not the only way Hal and Dolly had of passing their days; sometimes their papa took them in the Speedwell across the bay to Oldport. When he had business to transact he would leave them in charge of old Andrew, but when he was not very busy he would take them with him. They never failed to stop and see Lassie, and Hal was always much disappointed that no news from her family had come. Hal enjoyed these trips to Oldport more than anything else. It was such fun to see the sailors on the ships that lay idly at the piers. Sometimes they would be lying on a coil of rope spinning yarns, and Hal wished that he could go and listen, for he was sure that he should enjoy their stories.

Sometimes a man-of-war lay in the harbor, and Hal was wildly envious of the midshipmen

whom he saw away up in the rigging, looking as much at home in that lofty situation as if they had been born there. When he grew old enough he meant to be a sailor; that was, at least, if mamma would let him. For he had

made up his mind that he could not go unless she said yes. He would never break his mamma’s heart, as old Andrew had done, of that he was determined, sailor or no sailor.

And if there were no man-of-war in port and he grew tired of watching the men at work on the wharves, why there were the fishing boats drawn up on the beach for him to look at.

There they lay, with their sails idly flapping about the mast and with no one aboard. The men had been in too much haste to get their fish promptly to market to take down the sails, and, besides, they knew that no harm could come to their boats in that sheltered spot. Hal would wonder what kind of fish they had caught, how many, and how much money they got for them, and what they did with their money; and in fact, when he began wondering he never knew exactly where to stop.

One rainy day, when there was no going to the beach, Hal and Dolly found their way out to the tool-house. Old Andrew was there putting a great patch on a corner of the Speedwell’s sail where it had been torn. The little people sat beside him and begged for a story. “Did you never get shipwrecked?” asked Hal.

“Yes,” said Andrew. “I was wrecked, and a close shave I had of it for my life.”

“Oh do tell us all about it,” cried they both.

So old Andrew began his story. “I shipped in the Raven,” he said. “She was bound for Norway. A fine vessel she was and a fast one, and I looked forward to a pleasant voyage, for it was in the summer. And when I got to Norway I meant to go ashore a bit and see the land. But I never saw it, for the first night out it came on to blow, and such a gale! When daylight broke all our sails were gone, and the ship was drifting on a rocky shore. Do our

best there was no way to help matters. By and by she struck on a ledge. Snap went her mast and there she was a helpless wreck. The wild waves came leaping over her, battering at her with all their might, and sweeping us off into the raging sea. Many was the strong man that perished that day.”

“And were you drowned?” asked Dolly very much interested.

“Hardly,” laughed Andrew; “or I should not have been here.”

“Of course not,” said Dolly. “How stupid I was! you must have got safely ashore; tell us how you did it.”

“Well,” said Andrew, “I was swept off with the others, and at first I thought it was all up with me, and that I should never breathe again, for I was buried deep by the furious waves; but at last I came to the top; and there close by me was a spar, dashing about. I seized and clung to it, and the wind drove us slowly shore-ward.

“There were a crowd of men on the beach and they soon spied me. The surf was very heavy, so that no boat could be launched, but

two or three men stood ready with ropes tied around them, asnd when I came near they dashed in and seized me, and we were dragged out by the rope.”

“Dear me!” said Hal; “that sounds pretty dreadful, I don’t much think I will be a sailor after all.”

Andrew smiled. “It is not a pleasant life at all; at least I never found it so.”

By and by the days began to grow shorter, and papa and mamma began to throw out hints about school. Hal and Dolly tried very hard not to hear them. It was so pleasant those bright September days that they wished they would never come to an end. All the summer visitors had gone and it seemed to the children as if the beach belonged to them.

But the end came at last. Again the trunks were piled into the Speedwell and the bay was crossed. Again the night was spent in the old inn, and when the morning came the train whirled them away once more, and their pleasant summer was at an end.

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

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