Summer Days

  DOWN BY THE SEA.

  Hal Brooks and his sister Dolly lived in town. But this was only in thewinter. As soon as the first of June came every year there was a greatpacking of trunks, for all the family were off to the seaside. Mr.Brooks had a house in the country as well as in town. The country housewas built away out on a point of land that ran far into the ocean. Onone side of this point were the quiet waters of the bay that lay infront of an old sea-port town, but on the other were the wild waves ofthe ocean.

  The beach that faced the ocean was a fine one. In some places there wasa long stretch of sand, and here in the summer time people came downfrom the town to bathe in the surf on pleasant days. But as you walkedalong

  this beach, presently you would come to a great rocky point, where theair was full of foam as the heavy swell from the sea dashed against it.

  There were little sheltered nooks among these rocks, though, and hereDolly loved to sit in the bright Summer days, and watch the seagulls orthe boats that swept by.

  But we must go back to Hal and Dolly, who are now in town.

  It is the first day of June, and the sun is shining brightly. In frontof Mr. Brooks’ door is a great van, which two sturdy porters are fastfilling with trunks, for to-day they are all off for Oldport. Hal standson the steps watching the trunks as they are brought down, one afteranother, with great satisfaction, but he is soon summoned to breakfast.The carriage is to be at the door in half an hour to take them to thestation; for Oldport is a long day’s ride on the railway from the townwhere they live.

  There is not much to tell of that day’s ride in the cars. For hour afterhour their way led through green fields, where the cattle were browsingso lazily that they hardly lifted their eyes to look at the train as itrushed by. But toward afternoon they began to get now and then peeps ofthe sea, and once, through the marine glass that his father had, Halcould plainly make out two sailors furling the jib of a vessel some twomiles at sea.

  They were both pretty tired and dusty, and the basket that had heldtheir lunches was very empty, when just at dusk they heard the brakemanshout “Oldport,” and the train came to a stop at the well-rememberedplatform.

  Mr. Brooks did not go to the great hotel on the hill, but to a littleold inn close by the water’s edge. The inn keeper knew that they werecoming, and their rooms were all ready for them and supper was justbeing put on

  the table as they drove up to the door. Mr. Brooks always went to thisinn because the trip from Oldport to their home was made by boat, andthis house was close to the pier. They could drive around, but it was along, long way, while by the boat it was but a couple of miles. So oldAndrew always met them bright and early the next morning after theirreaching Oldport, with the big sail-boat, into which trunks, people andall were stowed away, and so home was reached.

  The children were both too tired to eat much supper, and as soon as itwas over went right to their rooms. Hal stood at the window a minutelooking out across the bay to see if he could make out their own house.Yes, away out on the point, he saw it shining white in the moonlight,and here right below him in the harbor was a ship just setting out forsea. At any other time he would have

  been much interested in watching her and the men in the boat that wererowing back to shore, but to-night he was much too sleepy, so he leftthe window and in ten minutes he and Dolly both were fast asleep snuglytucked up in bed.

  It was a bright morning when he opened his eyes. He lay still for amoment, hardly wide enough awake to know where he was. Then he heard thesplash of the little waves on the beach and that roused him instantly.Not a sound came from the next room, where his papa and mamma and Dollyslept. He crawled quietly out of bed so as not to wake them, and stoleto the window.

  A little way along the beach, perhaps half a mile from him, he saw a boyand girl running. A fishing boat was sailing by on its way out to sea,and a man in it was waving his hand to them. Hal made up his mind thathe must be

  the children’s father. But he looked at the boat and children only aminute, for coming across the bay was a sail that he knew at a glance tobe that of their own boat, the Speedwell.

  He ran to the chair where his clothes were, and began to dress himselfwith the greatest haste. Then leaving a few buttons to fasten as he wentalong, he stole out of the room on tip-toe, and running down the pier,reached it just in time to seize the painter that old Andrew threw him.And in another moment he was aboard; and the first thing that his fathersaw when he looked out of the window was Hal sitting on the Speedwell,and swinging his hat above him for joy.

  While they were eating breakfast Andrew and another man carried down thetrunks and stowed them away, and by nine o’clock all the luggage was onboard. Meanwhile the children were impatient to be off. But much as theylonged to be at their summer home they would never have left Oldportwithout first seeing Thalassa. Thalassa was the adopted daughter of theinnkeeper, and was always called Lassie. The children were very muchinterested in her, for she had a strange history. It was this:

  One night, about thirteen years before, there was a great storm. All atonce came word that a ship was on the bar. The people crowded to thebeach to watch, and to see if they could help those on board. But itwas of no use. Of all that ship’s company only one came ashore alive,and that was a baby girl. How she lived in that wild sea no one couldtell. The innkeeper who saw her floating just outside the surf, madefast a line around his waist, and at the risk of his life swam out andbrought her in. And ever since that day when he rescued her half drownedfrom the sea, and declared that the friendless little baby should be ashis own child, Lassie, his little mermaid as he called her, had beenvery dear to him. As for Lassie, she loved her adopted father betterthan all the world beside.

  The children had often asked their mother to tell them over and overLassie’s story, and their hearts had thrilled again and again as theyheard of the great ship that in the morning had swept through the waterwith all sails set, like a thing of life, only to be a shattered wreckat

  night, and of the little wave-tossed baby. And so they never came toOldport without stopping to see Lassie.

  They found her this morning in the kitchen. She was walking up and downthe floor

  carrying in her arms little Betty, who could never be persuaded to takeher nap unless Lassie sang to her. Lassie’s voice was very sweet andBetty dropped off just as the children came in.

  “Well, Lassie,” said Hal, beginning as he always did at the samequestion, “have you had any tidings yet from your family?”

  “No,” said Lassie, “and I hope I never shall. I love my home here toowell to want to have any one come and take me away.”

  “But suppose your real father turned out to be the king of England,”said Hal. “It would be much finer to be the Princess Thalassa than justOld David’s Lassie.”

  “I wouldn’t go with him a step if he were the King of England,” saidLassie, “no, not even if he were the Khan of Tartary.”

  Hal had not much to say to this, as he did not even know who the Khan ofTartary was, so after a little he said good-by. “Perhaps he may turn upyet,” he called out as he moved along. “Any way, I’ll come and see younext time I am in Oldport and hear if he has.”

  The harbor was quite a busy scene as they sailed across it. Here was agreat ship just home from some foreign land. Away up aloft,

  so high above the water that it made Dolly dizzy to look, out on theyards sun-burned sailors were furling the sails, happy, no doubt, to behome again. Here and there heavy sloops, coasters Hal thought them, weremaking their way slowly on.

  Old Andrew, as he sat at tiller of their boat, cast his eyes up at thesailors on the large ship and sighed.

  “Does it make you feel like going to sea again, Andrew?” asked Mr.Brooks.

  “Aye, aye, sir,” said the old man. “It’s ten years now since I left thesea, but every now and then the old longing comes back.”

  “Why, Andrew,” exclaimed Hal and Dolly both at once, “w
e never knew thatyou had been a real sailor! Tell us all about it, away back from thevery beginning.”

  “The very beginning was pretty bad,” said the old man, “for I ran awayfrom home when

  I was a boy. I had sometimes been to the little seaport near where Ilived, and had watched the ships and had longed to be a sailor.

  “But my father would not hear of it. He wanted me to stay at home and bea farmer like himself. I tried to like farming, but I could not, and soone day I sat down on a log and thought it all out, and that night I ranaway and shipped as a cabin boy.”

  “How splendid!” said Hal.

  “It doesn’t look very splendid to me,” said old Andrew. “If I had stayedat home I might have had a farm of my own now, instead of having to hireout like any other common man. And I would never have had the thought ofhow I broke my mother’s heart, to trouble me all these fifty years.”

  Hal began to think that perhaps it was not such a