in America. He offered to take the child and place it in the care of the town authorities; but Susan hugged the baby closer to her bosom and looked at Ephraim - who said "No, please God, we'll rear the little one. She was sent to us in this strange way, and she shall never know want while Ephraim Wright has a strong arm to work for her."

But

So the good man went ashore; the shipwreck was a nine days wonder in the town, and then faded out of men's minds. through the cold stern winter the little baby was warmly and snugly nestled in her new home. They judged her to be about a year old. She soon forgot her old associations, and in her first prattling words called them papa and mamma without a sigh of regret. Now when Ephraim climbed the tower for his night watch, her baby lips had left their kisses on his rough cheek, and Susan sat down contentedly with her knitting, to sing soft lullabies to her child.

CHAPTER II.

JENNY'S CHILDHOOD.

THE stars of midnight shall be dear
To her, and she shall lean her ear

In many a secret place;

Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty, born of murmuring sound,

Shall pass into her face.

WORDSWORTH.

|ITTLE JENNY, so they shortened her long name, grew up as sweet

and fair as the white clover that was blossoming all about her; and like

that, with all her beauty she seemed well fitted for this wild, rude scene. She had no suspicion that she was other than Ephraim and Susan's own child, and she looked upon the rough island as her native home. She was soon able to run after the chickens and ducks, and to bring in the new-laid eggs in her little basket. Then as she grew older she roamed all over the island; found the swallow's nests hid in the

old buildings, and the sand-pipers in a hole in a rock, and picked up the gulls' eggs lying in the sun to hatch. Her father took her into the water and taught her early to swim, and she would lie and float in some sheltered cove and look up at the blue sky and fleecy clouds as if she were in her little bed in the garret. He took her with him in the boat, and as she grew stronger he taught her to row and to steer. A proud child she was, the first time he let her go over with him to the mainland and bring the boat home herself. He stood watching on the shore with anxious heart indeed, till she touched the little landing, and he saw her spring lightly out of her boat and tie. it fast to the post. Many a nice dinner she got for some stray visitor. She went out with

her pole and line to catch cunners, tautog, or cod from the rocks. Then she would skin and clean the fish and have all ready for the handy Susan to cook.

But Ephraim and Susan were too earnest and religious to feel that their little daughter was left them only for their own pleasure. In

the summer she followed these out-door sports and labors, but when the winter days came Susan taught her little charge to read and write, to knit and sew. They took her often to the mainland with them, and on Sunday, whenever it was possible, she was dressed in her neat clean calico and best hat and went to church with Ephraim or Susan; for they said, "She must not grow up strange and unlike other children." But in winter the quiet Sunday was spent at home, and then the three sat down together and read the precious words which speak to human hearts. wherever they are found. The story of the child and man Jesus, the tender history of Ruth, and especially the grand psalms of David were their delight. How often, as Jenny sat watching the sea, would she say over to herself, "There go the ships,-- there is that leviathan whom thou madest to play therein." Often did she wonder over these words, and look out upon the sea streaked with blue and green and shining silver, and fancy she could see the monster of the deep

stretching his huge length in the sun. Often in the wild nights of winter, as she cuddled down to sleep, she said to herself, "Stormy wind fulfilling his word ;" and when the tempest was hushed she heard a voice saying to winds and waves, "Be still and know that I am God." But she often looked up in her mother's face, wondering at the hushed and tender tone with which Susan read: "He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children." She read fairy stories, too, and many a tale of travel and adventure. She had but few books, for you may imagine there was no circulating library on the island, and she had no fond uncles and aunts to make her christmas and birthday presents. But she read those books over and over again, and thought of them `and dreamed of them, till they seemed a part of her very life. For she could not help being a dreamy little maiden, and her worst fault was forgetting there was any such thing as time; so that when she was out fishing on the rocks, or gathering eggs or sea-weed, the sun