ur porridge quite a spell. That way we can put by somethin' toward the
rent, an' we'll be all right.

"Maybe," little Glory went on, "that old colonel don't have all to say
'bout the 'Harbor.' Maybe he don't like little girls an' that's why.
I'll get Cap'n Gray to find out an' tell. He likes 'em. He always gives
me a cent to put in the bag--if he has one. He's poor, too, though, but
he's got a daughter growed up 'at keeps him. When I get growed I'll
earn. Why, darlin' grandpa, I'll earn such a lot we can have everything
we want. I will so and I'll give you all I get. If--if so be, we don't
go to the 'Harbor' after all."

The captain stroked his darling's head and felt himself cheered by her
hopefulness. Though they were penniless just now, they would not be for
long if both set their minds to money getting; and, as for going to
"Snug Harbor" without Glory, he would never do that, never.

"Well, well, mate, we're our own masters still; and, when the colonel
sends his man for me, I'll tell him 'no,' so plain he'll understand.
'Less I may be off on my rounds, singin' to beat a premer donner. Hark!
mess-time already. There goes eight bells. What's for us, cook?"

As he spoke, the little bell, which hung from the ceiling, struck eight
tinkling notes and Glory's face clouded. There was nothing in the tiny
cupboard on the wall save a remnant of porridge from breakfast, that had
cooled and stiffened, and the empty money-bag.

"O grandpa! So soon? Why, I ought to have finished Jane's jacket and
took it to her. She'd have paid me an' I'd ha' got the loveliest chop
from the store 'round the corner. But now, you dear, you'll just have to
eat what is an' make the best of it. Next time it'll be better an'
here's your plate."

Humming a tune and making a great flourish of plate and spoon, she
placed the porridge before the captain and watched his face anxiously,
her heart sinking as she saw the distaste apparent at his first
mouthful. He was such a hungry old dear always, and so was she hungry,
though she didn't find it convenient to eat upon all such occasions.
When there happened to be enough food for but one, she was almost glad
of the sailor's blindness. If he smelled one chop cooking on the little
stove, how should he guess there weren't two? And if she made a great
clatter with knife and plate, how could he imagine she was not eating?

Up till now, Glory could always console herself with dreams of the "Snug
Harbor" and th