was again and again tossed and
tumbled about as he tried to make the passage across the deck, but as
often as he tried his mates would have to pull on the rope and right
him. And I still think, as I did that night, that a ship's crew,
sailors, officers, and captain, are brave, brave folk,--the bravest
Folks I know.

As the storm went crashing on, I kept thrusting myself downward, in
hopes to plunge lower than the storm circle. No use. I was upborne every
time, and after many attempts knew it would be best to simply float as I
must.

I had drifted far from the sailing-vessel, when, as I floated high on
the crest of a wave, I looked upon a pleasure-craft of some kind, riding
high upon the breakers. Men who were not regular sailors looked with
startled eyes on the terrible sea. They were calm and quiet, but from
the way they questioned the staunch skipper, and watched the men forming
the crew, I knew they carried anxious hearts, and longed to see the
waters grow calmer.

A hard fling sent me afloat again, and I had a peep inside the cabin,
where ladies with white faces and clasped hands were whispering of the
storm, and listening with fear in their eyes to the wild clamor of the
winds.

Then there was a peep beyond that showed me something that to this day
I cannot understand, but I tell it because my instincts assure me that
boy-Folks and girl-Folks in good homes with good parents will know just
what it meant. And although I am only Lord Dolphin, a great fish of the
sea, there was something about it that has comforted me, and I think
always will comfort me as long as I live.

I saw a little girl, oh, a fair little creature, with fluffy, golden
hair shading her babyish face, who was on her knees beside a white and
gilded berth.

A berth, you know, is a small bed built right against the wall in any
kind of a vessel, be it sailer, steamship, or yacht. I think this was
some rich man's yacht.

The fair little lady, then, was on her knees beside her gilded berth,
her elbows resting on the pretty white bed, eyes closed, tiny white
hands clasped, and lips moving. She surely was talking to some One, but
Who I cannot even guess.

But this much was certain: that child was not afraid. Not in the least!
She must have wakened from sleep, else she would not have been alone.
And hearing the wild storm, she had slipped from her little bed, put
herself on her knees, and raised her dear, fearless little hands and
heart--where?