lost any time in setting about making that collection of
shells which she had mentioned to him in confidence when coming down in
the train it was her intention to begin as soon as she got to the sea;
and, all the time he had been speaking of the little crabs and other
things, she had been busily gathering together all sorts of razor
shells, pieces of cuttle-fish bone, cast-off lobsters' claws, and bits
of seaweed, which she now proudly drew his attention to, expecting the
old sailor's admiration.

He was, on the contrary, however, extremely ungallant.

"All rubbish!" he exclaimed on her asking him if he did not think her
pile of curiosities nice. "But, those corallines, young lady, are good.
They were long supposed to belong to the animal world, like the
zoophytes; instead of which they are plants the same as any other
seaweed. When that little branch you have there is dry, if you put the
end of it to a lighted candle, it will burn with an intense white flame,
similar to the lime-light, or that produced by electricity."

"We'll try it to-night!" said Bob emphatically. "We'll try it to-
night!"

"But, the Captain says it must be quite dry," interposed his sister,
somewhat appeased by the praise bestowed on her corallines for the
wholesale condemnation her collection had received. "Isn't that so,
Captain?"

"Right you are, my deary," said he. "They would not burn unless they're
just like tinder."

Dick, who had meanwhile been listening to all that was being said,
without intruding on the conversation, busying himself in picking up
shells for Miss Nell, and, occasionally, diverting Rover's attention by
throwing a stick for him into the sea, happened to come across, just at
this juncture, a queer-looking dark-coloured object that resembled an
india-rubber tobacco-pouch more than anything else.

"What be this, sir?" said he, holding up the article for inspection.
"Be he good for aught, sir?"

"Why, it's only a piece of seaweed, of course!" declared Master Bob,
settling the question in his own way. "Any one can see that."

"You're wrong," said the Captain. "You're quite wrong, Master Sharp!"

"It's a fairy's pillow-case," cried Nellie. "Isn't it?"

"Your guess is the nearer of the two, missy," decided Captain Dresser,
thumping his malacca cane down to give greater effect to his words.
"Strange to say, you've almost hit upon the very name; for, the fisher-
folk hereabouts and down the coast call the thing