The Dickinson press., 1885-03-21

dropped a small, shining silver thing
sixpence, really a6-penny piece. Now,
sixpence is not q large sum, but when
attained miraculously at the moment
when one had ceased to hope for any,
thing, it might seem so at Trot's age.
Some vague idea that fairies we're re.
ally around actually thrilled the child.
Then the substantial fact fixed itself
in her mind.
A present Of some sort Lois should
have. She could give it to her.
Trot hid the treasure in the corner of
her pocket-handkerchief, took home the
pie, and kept her secret as she ate the
pie with her coffee.
Then, when all was tidy, away she
went, stealing out the house with great
Importance, and staring ut the shops
and pricing things, and finding nothing
(for sixpence) that was worth buying.
At last, III a small shop window, she
saw some little pin-cushions-two seal
lop shells set over a bit of colored satin,
with a loop Of ribbon to fasten to ones
belt Or a nail.
Lucy uu1Eul w, BIG U1lOuRuU.
Alas! they were Is pence apiece.
But the half-grown girl behind til.
counter was good natured.
"Look here" she whispered to Trot,
II know how hard it is to get things
when you're young and amt earning
yet. She charges IS pence for these,
but she buys 'em of an old sailor, who
makes them himself, for sixpence. You
go down the street, along the wharf to
a little yellow house. There's toy boats
in the window, and parrots, and bananas,
and he's an old man with a wooden leg !;
and jest ask him. He'll sell you one,
I'm sure"
cts very nice of you to tell me-"
said Trot, and with a grateful look she
sped away; and though Lois would
have expected to see her killed outright,
did get sally through the crowds of drays
and carriages at the waterside of the
yellow house, where the little old man
with his wooden leg kept his queer little
shop, and, as the sign at the door de-
clared, "boarders" also.
Lame sailors smoked Oh the steps.
One whitfield at the end of the work.
room.
AS Trot stood modestly waiting, a tall
man, with a long beard, who looked thin
and i'll, and very sad, hurried past her
and went up stairs. 1t vas then that
the old man asked her what she wanted.
Zone of them cushings?" he repeated.
s'Well, my dear, yes. By the dozen is
my rule, but l breaks rules for pretty
little lassies like you. Will you have
blue, apink, or a yaller silk? Make up
your mind and I'll pitch down what you
choose. My darter fixes the silk, Igums
the shells on and polishes 'em, and SO
they're finished. She's at work up
stairs now. So which,"
"Blue, please" said Trot, and away
stumped the old man. When he came
down he showed her the cushion, took
the silver, and went to hunt up q bit OF
paper to wrap it in; and the whiting
sailor spoke to him.
"That poor chap looked blue" he
said.
"He is blue" said the old sailor. Gall
that's come and gone is nothing to this, "
he said. HE hoped agin hope until
now. But. you see, he's looked for his
gal a month now, and can't find her
and he says either she's dead or married
and he's talking of putting a pistol to his
head. 1 never see a chap SO mortal
down in the mouth afore."
"Folks has lived through it and mar
ried other gals" said the sailor, whit
ting hard and turning very red.
eyes," said the old man, "but don't
you see, he's mad three years on a des-
ert island, and seen two men along Of
him die, one arte, the other, and was
at s%tarvation's door when Capt. Briggs
picked him up, that weak he couldn't
stand. And now this worry. Sartinty
can be borne better than unsarinty be
it ever so woful. Here. little l~assie!p
But Trot, with eyes and mouth wide
open, did not even see the little package
he held out to her.
A memory of a pose and of hair like
those of the tall man she had seer burst
upon her.
Jack had no beard. but oh-but oh
she was strong in childish hope and that
childish expectation of fine endings to
real life-stories which we lose in after
life.
LOIS wonld have sighed and gone
away, but Trot clutched the old mans
jacket with her thin little hands.
ooh, please, SIR" she said, ooh, I be-
lieve it's Jack. I always knew he
wasn't drowned. Oh, please tell him
that if he's Jack, I'm Trot, and Lois is
my sister. Oh, tell him! I think it's
Jack, and that it is Lois he is looking
for. We're Capt. Lees daughters-tell
him-tell him!
"Good Lord!" shouted the whiting
sailor, dropping his knife. cts like
play. The fellow is looking for Cappen
Lees darter."
Up he went, five stairs at a time.
Down he came with the man with the
beard.
"Where is she? Where is she?" he
gasped. "This-this isn't Trot?"
"This isn't Jack. Oh, dear, dear?"
cried Trot. "Only your nose-that
looks like. Oh, is it Jack Darrow?".
"Whereis Lois 2" was all he answered.
And the whiting sailor wiped bis
eyes with big red handkerchief and
the old man yelled 'hurrah!"
Then he crammed the pretty cushion
into the child's pocket and she went
away with her hand in the thin brown
hand of Jack Darrow, and told him all
as they fastened along.
"Go up and prepare her, Trot," said
Jack. "This is sudden. It might hurt
her"
So Trot climbed the stairs, thinking
what she might say, and she came where
Lois sat at work and saidf
"Lois, I want to give you a birthday
present, and the fairies put sixpence in
to the hole in my shoe and I went to