island, where I was born; there is no land more lovely in
all the West Indies."

"You come from Barbadoes?" cried the girl, "and it really is a pleasant
island?"

"Most truly it is," said he, "and the great dream of my life is to get
back there." Then he stopped. Was it really the dream of his life to get
back there? That would depend upon several things.

"If, then, you tell me the truth, my ship is bound for Barbadoes. And if
she should go, would you like to go there with us?"

Dickory hesitated. "Not directly," said he. "I would first touch at
Jamaica."

For some moments there was no answer from the tree-top, and then came
the question: "Is it a girl who lives there?"

"Yes," said Dickory unguardedly, "but also I have a mother in Jamaica."

"Indeed," said she, "a mother! Well, we might stop there and take the
mother with us to Barbadoes. Would the girl want to go too?"

Dickory bent his head. "Alas!" said he, "I do not know."

Then spoke the little Lena. "I would not bother about any particular
place to go to," said she. "I'd be so glad to go anywhere that isn't
here. But it is not a real ship, you know."

"I don't think I will take you," called down Lucilla. "I don't want too
many passengers, especially women I don't know. But I often think there
will be a gentleman passenger--one who really wants to go to Barbadoes
and nowhere else. Sometimes he is one kind of a gentleman and sometimes
another, but he is never a soldier or a sailor, but rather one who
loves to stay at home. And now, sir, I think I must take my glass and
try to pick out a ship from among the spots on the far distant waves."

"Come on," said Lena, "do you like to fish! Because if you do, I can
take you to a good place."

The rest of the day Dickory spent with Mr. Mander and his wife, who were
intelligent and pleasant people. They talked of their travels, their
misfortunes and their blessings, and Dickory yearned to pour out his
soul to them, but he could not do so. His woes did not belong to himself
alone; they were not for the ears of strangers. He made up his mind what
he would do. Until the morrow he would stay as a visitor with these most
hospitable people, then he would ask for work. He would collect
firewood, he would hunt, he would fish, he would do anything. And here
he would support himself until there came some merchant ship bound
southward which would carry him away. If the Mander family were anyway
embarrassed or annoyed by