Polly Samson, in particular, being of a romantic turn of mind, soon
dried her eyes, and when called on to assist in the construction of a
little place of shelter for herself on the centre of the raft, by means
of boxes and sails, she began to think that the life of a castaway might
not be so disagreeable after all. When this shelter or hut was
completed, and she sat in it with her father taking luncheon, she told
him in confidence that she thought rafting was "very nice."

"Glad you find it so, Polly," replied the captain with a sad smile.

"Of course, you know," she continued, with great seriousness of look and
tone, "I don't think it's nice that our ship is lost. I'm very very
sorry--oh, you can't think how sorry!--for that, but this is such a
funny little cabin, you know, and so snug, and the weather is _so_ fine;
do you think it will last long, father?"

"I hope it may; God grant that it may, darling, but we can't be sure.
If it does last, I daresay we shall manage to reach one of the islands,
of which there are plenty in the Southern Seas, but--"

A roar of laughter from the men arrested and surprised the captain. He
raised the flap of sail which served as a door to the hut--Polly's
bower, as the men styled it--and saw one of the passengers dragged from
a hole or space between the spars of the raft, into which he had slipped
up to the waist. Mr Luke, the passenger referred to, was considered a
weak man, mind and body,--a sort of human nonentity, a harmless
creature, with long legs and narrow shoulders. He took his cold bath
with philosophic coolness, and acknowledged the laughter of the men with
a bland smile. Regardless of his drenched condition, he sat down on a
small keg and joined the crew at the meal of cold provisions which
served that day for dinner.

"Lucky for us," said one of the sailors, making play with his
clasp-knife on a junk of salt pork, "that we've got such a fine day to
begin with."

"That's true, Bob," said another; "a raft ain't much of a sea-goin'
craft. If it had blowed hard when we shoved off from the ship we might
ha' bin tore to bits before we was well fixed together, but we've had
time to make all taut now, and can stand a stiffish breeze. Shove along
the breadbasket, mate."

"You've had your allowance, Bob; mind, we're on short commons now," said
Baldwin Burr, who superintended the distribution of provisions, and
served out a measured quantity to every man. "There's your