did the wind rave about a peaceful inland dwelling as it
did about that lonely light-house for two long nights. It roared, it
howled, it shrieked, it whistled; it drew back to gather strength, and
then rushed to the attack with such mad fury, that the strong, young
light-house, whose frame was all of iron and stone, shrunk trembling
before it, and the children in their beds screamed aloud for fear. But
through all and beyond all, the calm, strong light sent out its
piercing, warning rays into the black night; and who can tell what
sinner it may that night have prevented from crossing the Devil's Bridge
to the world which lies beyond?

There was but one wreck during the storm, so far as our travellers
heard; and in this the lives were saved. Two men, caught out in a
fishing-smack, finding that their little vessel was foundering, betook
themselves to their small boat; but this filled more rapidly than they
could bale it; and they had just given themselves up for lost, when
their signals of distress were observed on board the light-ship
stationed near Newport, which sent a life-boat to their assistance, and
rescued them just as their little boat went to pieces.

When Mysie heard this occurrence mentioned, as they were journeying
homeward, it recalled to her mind a little incident of the day
succeeding the storm.

Walking with Clara upon the beach, they saw borne toward them, on the
crest of a mighty wave, a square beam of wood, bent at an obtuse angle,
which Clara at once pronounced to be the knee from some large boat, and,
rushing dauntlessly into the water, the energetic little maid battled
with the wave for its unwieldy toy, and finally dragged it triumphantly
out upon the beach, and beyond the reach of the wave, only wishing that
she had "a piece of chalk to make father's mark upon it." Failing the
chalk, she rushed off home for "father and one of the boys," who soon
bestowed the prize in a place of safety.

Mysie at first wondered considerably that persons should take so much
trouble for a piece of wood, but ceased to do so when she remembered
that on the whole island could not probably be found a tree of a foot in
diameter, and that everything like board or joist at the light-house
must be brought by sea to Holmes's Hole, Edgartown, or Menemshee, and
thence carted over _that_ road to Gay Head, becoming, by the time it
reached "the Light," not a common necessary, but an expensive luxury.
She was not, therefore, s