oaxingly.

"Star of Faith, when winds are mocking
All his toil, he flies to Thee;
Save him, on the billows rocking,
Far, far at sea."

"I don't think I know any more," said the child, as she finished this
verse.

"Well, you've done first-rate, deary; and mind, you must sing that song
to me every night," he added.

For a little while they went on in silence, and nothing could be heard
but the gentle lap, lap of the waves at the side of the boat, until
Coomber said: "Come, sing to us again about that sailor's star. Bob, you
try and pick it up as she sings," he added.

So the verses were sung through again, and without a break this time;
and Tiny was able to recall the last verse, too, and sang--

"Star Divine, oh! safely guide him,
Bring the wanderer back to Thee;
Sore temptations long have tried him,
Far, far at sea."

"Bravo, little 'un," exclaimed Bob, who was completely charmed out of
his sulky mood by the singing.

"I say, Bob," suddenly exclaimed Coomber, "is the bottle up there?"

"I ain't seen the bottle," sulkily responded the lad, his ill-humour
returning at once.

"I--I took it up, and told 'em to fill it," exclaimed Coomber; and as he
spoke he drew in his oars, and felt under the seat, and all round the
boat. "I must ha' forgot it, thinking about the little 'un and her
picture," he said, after searching round the boat in vain.

"It's too late to go back," said Bob; "it'll be dark soon."

"Ye-es, it's too late to go back with the child," said Coomber, slowly
and regretfully; though what he should do without his nightly dose of
whisky he did not know.

"Sing again," whispered Bob to Tiny; and the next minute the little
voice rang out once more its "Star of Peace."

It brought peace to the angry fisherman--the more angry, perhaps,
because he had nobody but himself to blame that the bottle had been left
behind. Before they landed the singing had worked its mysterious charm,
and the fisherman had almost forgotten his anger, and his bottle, too.

"You tie up the boat, and make haste in, Bob," he said, as he took the
little girl in his arms, and stepped out upon the shore. A light was
shining in the window of the old boat-house, and Tiny was all impatience
to get home and show her treasure to Dick.

"Take it out of your pocket, daddy, and give it to me," she said, as
they were crossing the sands; and the moment the door was opened she ran
in, exclaiming,