on as a most
extraordinary whim, but he never remembered seeing such a thing as a
book in Fellness all the years he had known the place. People might have
books, some of them, at least, but they were not of much use to
fisher-folks, and he rather despised them.
The sun had gone down before they landed; but the moon was rising; and
so, between daylight and moonlight, they would be able to get back
without any difficulty, when the fish and samphire were disposed of.
"Now, Bob, get her unloaded, while I take the little 'un up to see Dame
Peters," said Coomber, as he lifted Tiny out of the boat.
She was looking round eagerly in search of the houses and shops, for in
spite of what she had been told, she could not divest herself of the
idea that Fellness was a grand, glorious place, where everything could
be bought if people only had fish and seaweed enough; and surely two big
baskets of samphire were sufficient to buy a book.
But to her disappointment she saw only a few lounging fishermen and
children--like herself and Dick--instead of the crowds of people she had
expected; and as for shops--well, she could see a row of stone cottages
at a distance. There might be a dozen, perhaps, and a few sheds and
outbuildings, but the rest of the landscape was flat and unoccupied as
their own Point; and at the sight Tiny hid her face in the fisherman's
neck and burst into tears.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IV.
TINY'S TREASURE.
"Well, now, if you can make her out, it's more than I can," said
Coomber, pausing in the doorway of Dame Peters' cottage, after he had
seated Tiny by the old woman's fire.
"Oh, leave her here for half an hour; she'll be all right by the time
you come back; there's no 'counting for children, and she may feel
frightened a bit, for all she ain't cried till she got ashore."
"It's just that that beats me," said the fisherman; "she's as lively as
you please in the boat, but as soon as she gets out, down she pops her
head, and begins to pipe her eye."
"Well, there, you go and look after Perkins and the fish, and I'll see
to her," said Dame Peters, a little impatiently; for she had some
potatoes cooking for her husband's supper, and she knew they needed
attention. After looking to these, she turned to Tiny, who had dried her
tears by this time, and sat watching the old woman. "D'ye like to see
pictures, deary?" she asked; and at the same time she opened the top
drawer of an old-fashioned chest
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