e fire. "How
are 'ee, Billy, my lad?"

Billy, glaring defiance at his mother, who returned the glare with
interest in the shape of a united shake of the fist and head, replied
that he was "fuss'rate."

Tottie having immediately claimed, and been put in possession of the
other knee, divided her father's attention, and while the goodwife
busied herself in preparing the supper, which had been originally
intended for "Uncle John," a quick fire of question and reply of the
most varied and unconnected sort was kept up by the trio at the fire, in
tones, and accompanied by hugs and gestures, which proved beyond all
doubt that Stephen Gaff was a father of the right kind, and that the
little ones hailed him as an inestimable addition to their household
joys.

It would be unjust to Mrs Gaff were I to permit the reader to suppose
that she was a disagreeable contrast to the father. She was
true-hearted and loving, but she had been born and bred in the midst of
a class of people whose manners are as rough as their calling, and was
by no means tender or considerate. A terrific scream, or a knock-down
slap, from Mrs Gaff, was regarded both by giver and recipient in much
the same light as is a mild reproof in more polite society.

"Wrecked again, Stephen," said Mrs Gaff, pausing in her occupation, and
recurring to the remark made by her husband when he first entered the
room, "where have 'ee bin wrecked this time?"

"A'most at the door, lass, on the Black Rock."

"Ay, an' was all the rest saved?" inquired the wife.

"No, none of 'em. A' lost save one, a little child."

"A child, lad!" exclaimed the wife in surprise; "what have 'ee done wi'
it?"

"Took it to its friends."

As he said this the sailor gave his wife a look which induced her to
refrain from further questioning on that subject.

"An' who saved ye, Stephen?"

"God saved me," replied the man, earnestly.

"True, lad; but was there none o' the boys there to lend a hand?"

"No, none. It puzzled me a bit," said Stephen, "for the lads are wont
to be on the look-out on a night like this."

"It needn't puzzle ye, then," replied the wife, as she set a chair for
her husband at the table, and poured out a cup of tea, "for there's bin
two sloops an' a schooner on the rocks off the pier-head for three hours
past, an' a' the lads are out at them,--Uncle John among the rest.
They've made him coxswain o' the new lifeboat since ye last went to
sea."

Stephen set down