l friendly little beggars, Skipper Davy!'

"'_I_ never looks up at the stars.'

"'They're friends o' _mine_!'

"'Not bein' very much in favor o' the world!' says he, 'I doesn't
countenance the stars.'

"An' all at once I turned to un in a sweat an' shiver o' fear. Not
countenance the stars! Here, then, another flash o' light upon the big
mystery! Now first I glimpsed the end of a path of evil. Not
countenance the stars! Could a man truly come t' such a sad pass in
God's good world? I knowed evil: all lads knows it, t' be sure--its
first gates in the world: not its last places. An' they stand without,
in fair meadows, an' peep beyond--an' wonder, an' ponder, an' wish
with all their young, eager hearts t' follow the paths an' learn. An'
we that are growed forget the wonder an' the wish--an' show no scars
that we can hide, an' draw the curtain upon our ways, an' make mockery
o' truth, an' clothe our hearts in hypocrisy, an' offer false example,
an' lie of our lives an' souls, lest we stand ashamed. 'Tis a cruel
fate for lads, it may be, an' a deceitful prophecy. I knows little
enough about life, but exhibit my ways, whatever an' all, for the
worth they may have; an had I my will in the world, I'd light the
country beyond the gates, ecod! an' with my own hands stir up all the
beasts! Not countenance the stars! 'Twas a vision again for the lad
that was I--first glimpse o' the end of any path of evil. 'I must
guard my soul,' thinks the lad that was I, in his heart, 'lest I come
to a pass like this.'

* * * * *

"There was light abroad by this time: a big, golden, jolly moon,
peepin' over the black cliffs o' Thumb-an'-Finger, not ashamed t' grin
its fellowship with sea an' stars an' all the handiwork o' God. An'
all the world save Davy Junk--all the world from the ragged hills t'
the rim o' the sea--from the southern stars fair north t' the long,
white lights--was at peace in the night. An' then Skipper Davy said:
'I done jus' what you tol' me, Tumm, afore us put out from Rickity
Tickle. I--I--done a deal for Janet Luff's child--an' I've no
complaint t' make. I made haste, lad, as you said, an' got there
first, an' done the good deed, an' knowed 'twas a good deed; an' I
been a sight happier ever since--though I'm woebegone enough, God
knows! But the windows o' my soul is cleaner. I'm awakened. I been
sort o' converted--t' love. An' comin' down the coast--an' here at the
fishin', with the