eaned over the side of the dory and
pretended to drop them, one at a time, into the sea. That was another
of her odd little whimsies.

"Good-by, sad dream--good-by, glad dream," she said. "You will never
go ashore. You will always stay out here in the sea where I drop
you--unless I decide to dream you over again some day. If I do,
good-by till then." For Judith never dreamed her day-dreams on land.
They were a part of the sea and the sea-sky and the old black dory.

She must make her trip to the Hotel with her poor little haul of
lobsters, for she had promised all she got to Mrs. Ben. But for a
wonder Judith's pride deserted her, and she decided to tramp away
down the beach in her fisherman-clothes. When had she done that
before! When _hadn't_ she walked the weary little distance inshore
and back, to and from her home, for the sake of going down the beach
in her own girl-things. But to-night--"Never mind, Judy--who cares!"
she said to herself, with a shrug. Let Mrs. Ben laugh--let the fine
people lounging about laugh--let everybody laugh! Who cared? To-night
Judith was tired, and the stout little heart had gone out of her.

"Land!" laughed Mrs. Ben, in her kitchen door. But the sober face
under the old tarpaulin checked her. Mrs. Ben's heart was tender.

"I shouldn't think I looked very landish," Judith retorted. "And I
guess you won't say 'land!' when you see your lobsters. That's every
one I got to-day, Mrs. Ben!"

But Mrs. Ben said "Land!" again. Then, with an unexpected whirl of
her big, comely person, she had her hands on the boy-girls' shoulders
and was gently pushing her toward a chair by the window.

"You poor dear, you! Never mind the lobsters. Just you set there in
that chair and eat some o' my tarts! You look clean tuckered out."

"Not _clean_ tuckered," laughed Judith rather tremulously. It was
good to be pushed about like that by big, kind hands. And how good
the tarts were! She sank into the chair with a grateful sigh.

"I don't suppose you can be expected to bring lobsters when there
ain't any in the traps! All is, the folks 'll have to eat tarts!"
Mrs. Ben's folks were the people who lounged about in gay summer
clothes. Judith could see them out of the window as she ate her
tarts.

Some ladies were sitting on the doorsteps very near by, and their
voices drifted in to Judith with intervals of silence. She began to
notice what the voices were saying. They were talking about a little
figure in da